#omano chan

[arial86]

Lucifer feels himself pale, the anger flowing down the drain. His head grows cold while his stomach churns hot, flushed with all the blood rushing from his face. He feels really sick. It's only the sharp pain just behind his heart that nails him to the spot, somehow still standing. Michael is in terrible pain. Seeing him burning up from the inside, close to sobbing and gasping for air under the freezing stream of the shower to ease the pain just a little is breaking Lucifer's heart. Before he could think better of it he is pulled to his brother, wrapping him up in his arms, pulling him back to his chest. He feels helpless like a child. The despair with which Michael unconsciously leans back into his touch, grasps for his naked forearms for his skin is cool, crunches the traitorous heart into fine diamond dust.

The Apple of Your Eye, Omano-Chan

[arial86]

In the middle of the reeking bloodbath Michael is sitting on one arm of the sofa. There is no scratch at all on his imperial figure. He sits like one of those stone angels in cemeteries with their solemn, gentle faces and commanding posture even as they watch over the dead. The blade lying across his knees is glinting even in the dark. Clean. There was no fight here. Only ants were squished. Lucifer squints at the scene. "Do I want to know what's all this?" he asks. Michael looks at him with the calm of the endless ocean in his eyes. "I found them tumbling across our property," Michael says. "And they call me a mass murderer," Lucifer rolls his eyes and bites down on a hiss as he feels the skin peeling at their corners. Michael stands. The steel is slowly melting from his features as he walks up to his brother. Gently, he cups Lucifer's cheek in a warm palm, and suddenly the skin doesn't feel too tight anymore. Only chills chase each other along the length of the blond's spine. It's Michael's grace. "What's with all the blood?" Lucifer asks a bit lightheaded. "That's for you. I gathered you wouldn't rely on me healing you all the time." Why is there sadness underlining those words? "I'll leave you to it," in passing Michael adds, "Clean up after yourself."

The Apple of Your Eye, Omano-Chan

[arial86]

Lucifer snickers. Does he honestly think that there is any chance of a last showdown here? Well. He shouldn’t be the one to let his brother down. The destructive dance starts again.

The Apple of Your Eye, Omano-Chan

[arial86]

A great amount of sleeping later Michael took a shower and re-emerged into the world of the living. He also came back on angel radio, which partly and definitely not admittedly, eased off the knot in Lucifer's stomach. His brother is all right and he can go back to hating him just as it was before.

The Apple of His Eye, Omano-Chan

[arial86]

After that night of calm and softening Lucifer forcefully reminded himself how much he hated his brother. Thus he has become Michael's shadow; only more faithful, a malicious sweet voice even on the greyest of days, tirelessly seeking for the tiniest of cracks on the other's armour. Just a single sign of sloppiness in the sacred procedure of putting on the golden mail, and Lucifer immediately slipped a poisoned little knife in there.

The Apple of Your Eye, Omano-Chan

[arial86]

Lucifer makes one last attempt to push himself up from the ground, but soon it is Michael's solid weight straddling his middle that keeps him in place. He expects the firm, suffocating touch of a blade to his throat, repaying the favour from those nights prior. Instead, a warm hand cups the side of his face and pulls Lucifer up into an awkward half sitting position. His body obeys. Foreign power cruises his veins keeping the Fallen where Michael wants him to be. Michael leans down and kisses Lucifer on the mouth. Surprise, then a burst of electricity stills his heart. The next time his tongue flickers out, to gain more time for a snap back, or to chase Michael's taste on his lips he will never know for sure, but he finds that the blistering scar is gone. The only blood he savours tastes like copper and sun-kissed warm soil. It is Michael's. His brother leans up, brows pinched into a scowl. "I can still taste the demon blood on your breath," he says. "It's disgusting." And Lucifer can taste salt on Michael's skin, exhaustion and insistence for oxygen on his breath. Michael has tired. If Lucifer swallows down the gagging fury he can see it in his brother's movements too. There is the strain of muscle as he pushes himself back on his feet, his shoulders are squared by pure will, head is hanging by two degrees as he leans his sticks carefully against the wall. It was a training, playful little fight. Nothing compared to the Apocalypse. Yet Lucifer has been defeated. Yet Michael has tired. Still on the ground, Lucifer shouts after Michael's retreating back. "You didn't only abandon me!" He chuckles maliciously. "Did you rebel, Michael? You didn't kill me. You left Heaven!" Michael doesn't stop on his way inside. Just as he opens the door Lucifer's voice thunders through the air, sure that the elder could not miss it, "I'll make sure you'll never return!"

The Apple of Your Eye, Omano-Chan

[jorieds]

Just don't let me take a shower while thoroughly frustrated :P This idea was so, ugh, strange and off, and disassembled I wanna digg a hole and bury myself in it :P ^^; sry!!!

Oh, god. Don’t be sorry . This is so cute, it needs to be shared!

What about when Dean and Michael’s anniversary Michael just steps up in front of Dean and asks “Do you trust me?” and Dean is spluttering out a “Yeah sure”, the next thing he notices is that he is in an entirelly different setting, he’s standing behind a garage in a salvage yard, and when he peeks around he sees a blond woman striding into the garage greeting the mechanic, and he’s just about to snap at Michael’s awful taste in picking gifts - timetravel? really? (1/2)

but then he sees the two people there and they are Mary and John, but not really the younger versions he had met in 78, but as he remembered them—- Michael took him to his parents’ shared Heaven as an anniversary gift because he ran out of ideas (well, he actually had to kill Dean in the process, and he doesn’t have as much time as he wants, because Michael’s is breaking his own rules and it’s just better to be brought back sooner than later) (2/2)

UGH. SO CUTE. Because I can picture Michael seeing as Dean’s features light with an almost childish happiness as he sees his parents laughing and being content together. Blinking when they feel eyes on them and turn to see him. Dean would gulp, feeling nervous all of sudden, but then Michael’s hand is on his back, reassuring him in some way, and he looks up at him.  

"It’s okay," Michael says and Dean feels a watering smile forming. He wants to kiss Michael so badly but John’s voice stops him with a "Dean? Is that you?"

Michael squeezes his side and pushes him towards his parents and sees him as he runs and hugs Mary, who was running towards his son, John coming from behind and hugging them both too.

AND GOSH THEN THE ‘MEET THE PARENTS’ SCENE.

Because Dean told his parents that Michael brought him, Mary would demand for him not to leave and eat with them, even if its Heaven, the food tastes just fine, thank you. Michael’s face when they are all sitting in the table, thinking, “Perhaps I didn't think this through,” because John is glaring at him, Mary asking more questions about how they met and stuff and Dean keeps shifting in his seat with a pretty blush on his cheeks.

(John is glaring mostly because Michael told them about the vessels and stuff and when John asked for more, Michael said bluntly ‘I was inside you, once’.)

I want more fluff in my life. Thanks for this, darling.

[theflamesthesword]

Tintin the Kitten - Deal With It

“It’s moving,” Michael grumbles from the couch. Lucifer rolls his eyes and takes a long gulp of the beer in his hand.

“That’s what kittens do, brother,” Lucifer drawls.

Michael frowns at the small tabby in his lap and picks it up in his hands. The pot belly and soft ribcage seem like paper to him. The thing squirms in his arms and mewls at him. Michael stares into the brown kitten eyes and squints.

Lucifer snorts and sets down his beer, standing off the floor and dropping onto the couch next to Michael.

“You’re scaring it,” Lucifer chides, pulling the kitten from Michael’s hands and cradling it to his chest. “And hurting it.”

The poor kitten mewls and nuzzles Lucifer’s breast as the Devil’s fingers flutter over it’s small head and soft ears.

Michael watches his brother in silence, happy to sit and watch him with the kitten.

“So, that’s how you handle a kitten?” he asks softly, curling up onto his side and resting his head on Lucifer’s shoulder, eyes directed at the kitten.

“Yeah, it is,” Lucifer smiles, setting the kitten on his lap and turning to face Michael.

“You’ll learn,” Lucifer murmurs, nudging his forehead against Michael’s.

Michael smiles and rests his fingertips on the kitten, softly stroking the light coloured fur and drawing a happy purr from the kitten. Michael smirks and kisses Lucifer.

“I think I’m getting it,” he whispers smugly.

“Oh you dastardly punk,” Lucifer teases, kissing Michael again.

Michael chuckles and the kitten curls up happily in the crook of Lucifer’s hip and thigh.

They named the kitten Tintin. For no apparent reason.