heraldingangel | Inbox for deerington

[Later, if Castiel decides to reach out to Sam... or, hell, if he decides to find Lucifer through Sam, it's easy enough to find the archangel. Just wait until the night falls, and hope that Sam Winchester isn't pulling another 24 hours wide awake.

Sam himself is in the distance of the dream, entirely unaware of Castiel's arrival. Unaware of anything, really — he sits with his back against a tree, and he looks younger, more fresh-faced; 19 or 20 years old, beside a girl with lovely blond hair who is lying her head against his stomach, his hand clasped in hers.

Lovers, considering a future together.]

If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're being a real peeping tom here, Castiel.

[The voice comes from behind him. As the angel stands in a pleasant Californian field with the state poppies in bloom, Lucifer is just a few feet separate, looking more like himself as Castiel would know him best — as 'Nick'. He's watching the uninterrupted scene while he bites his thumbnail.]

It never lasts long, but what I'm not so cruel that I'd interrupt a moment of reprieve.

[After all, he cares a lot about Sam. He'd love for him to be happy.

Someday, anyway.

After Lucifer's done with whatever he wants to do, first.]

Edited (its 5 am and my writing is blah!!!) 2020-12-10 13:14 (UTC)

[ Made aware of his brother's activities by both Jack and Dean, Castiel takes it upon himself to find him. A task that proves easier than he first expected. In the cobwebs of Sam's dreams, he finds the first traces of angelic power. Faint but impossible to miss. Starting at the outer edges, he makes his way through the dream that weaves seamlessly into half-blurred scenes ready to take off at a moment's notice. None sharpen at his approach, they're not there for him. Near the center of woven threads, a scene comes into focus. It's Sam and Jessica. The scene holds the couple captive, caught in the tranquility of the moment, and off to the side, along the rim, stands - ]

Lucifer.

[ Blue eyes settle on the archangel wearing the vessel most familiar to him. Somehow, it's easier to face than Sam's likeness, but his mouth still thins into a grim line. Confronting an archangel has never ended well for him, yet he stands firm near the edge of the dream. The threads that hold the scene together hang loosely but firm bringing a sense of peace to the sleeping soul. A peace he has no intention of breaking. ]

We need to talk.

Edited 2020-12-13 21:15 (UTC)

[For all of Castiel's grimness, Lucifer looks light as a feather. Like he's just visiting kin over the county lines, a relaxedness to his shoulders and a small smile of contentment on his face.]

Need to talk? About what, little brother?

[The pinnacle of innocence.

What has he done wrong here? Oh, sure, maybe he's almost choked the dingier Cas to death. Maybe he almost gained control enough to hurt some possessed boy. But everything else...? He's harmless.]

I've been a complete angel, since we last spoke.

Edited 2020-12-14 13:00 (UTC)

[ In this world of dreams and dreamers, the brothers stand apart. The rebel son and the devil. Both fallen from grace, but only one leapt to freedom. ]

You're invading their dreams.

[ Only one loved humanity. ]

And you've never wandered into a dream or two?

[He gestures around them.]

Seems an awful lot like you're doing the same.

[The voices drift in the distance — Sam's is a higher lilt, still almost shy in delivery and nothing like the hoarser, deeper richness of a Sam one apocalypse in. Jessica's voice is sweet and friendly and teasing. They're talking about traveling a few miles to the beach; about how broke they are, but with smiles, the kind of hapless floating through life that a young, energetic couple can do, even in the midst of loans and classes and overcomplicated sleeping schedules with part-time jobs.

They'll make it work. They deserve a weekend off.

Lucifer smiles, and it drips with the uneasiness of a widely smiling stranger knocking at someone's window at midnight.]

Manners, Castiel.

A little privacy, for Sam Winchester? Hm?

[ The sound of a life not lived drifts toward them along a thread of hope that still held on despite the devil in the backseat. ]

Sam has you locked away. I knew you'd be here.

[ A detail he learned recently from a source he has no intention of divulging. Nor does he back away at the smiling snake in the garden. A soldier to his marrow, he stands his ground, unflinching in the face of an insurmountable foe. In a fight between them, he would not win. They were not made from a common spring. An unknown being his brother was to him much as he was to the humans he chose to protect. ]

The last time we spoke, you hid from me. I was too weak to recognize you within Sam, but now I see you.

What do you want from them?

[He wrinkles his brow, slightly sullen.]

What do I want?

Castiel, I just want to return home. Return to my rightful place as the champ, the #1, the winner of the grand ol' apocalypse. [He steps closer, frowning, eyes reddened and glowing.] I earned that spot — And it was taken from me. Unfairly.

This my vessel; my body. I won it fair and square — and someday, Sam will come around and see what I've created for us.

[There's a bone-deep chill, like winter has set in around the two of them; it tries to smother Castiel with its frigid temperatures, radiating from one particular, annoyed devil.]

A cleaner planet. Cleared of all the human weeds that had tarnished it. I want nothing else but that, and if I can't have it — then I'll tantrum until Sam remembers how much easier it is, when he doesn't have to fight so hard.

[ Lucfier banishes any warmth from the soul radiating light and goodwill. He feels it in his bones in a place that should hold no sway over him. Yet, it cuts through him by sheer force of will to a place where his true form lies. Losing ground, black wings shiver against the cold until the mention of Sam lights a fire that sets his world ablaze ].

Sam won't let you out. He'll fight you. Every step of the way.

[ He snaps back in defiance, blue eyes flashing with the same spark of passion that once drove him to go against everything he'd ever known. ]

You're not going anywhere. You're trapped. Just like the rest of us.

Edited 2020-12-18 04:03 (UTC)

[He sneers, his head held high on his neck. But there's a measure of annoyance in his eyes as he surveys the other angel and his ruffled feathers. Lucifer had not had much experience with Castiel, in his timeline — rare occasion, really, because he had no reason to care for Dean or the angel while his vessel was elsewhere. But he knows enough. Learned enough, in all the time they had wanted to kill the devil.

Still obnoxious as ever, though in such a different way.]

Acting a little too big for those baby bird wings, Castiel.

I know he'll fight. He'll fight, and that's why he's my favorite. But here's the thing: Sam's not going to last under that pressure for long, and even if he does manage long enough — what are you going to do? Try to dig me out of him? Destroy his mind or maul his soul in the process? How do you think Sam's going to react to two years worth of my memories suddenly pouring into him?

Especially after all the lives I took with his hands.

[He seems a bit more at ease suddenly, as if the reminder of the atrocities he'd committed has soothed the ire Castiel had inspired. He was quite good at his craft, after all. Tormenting, killing, wiping people off the map...]

Poor Sammy, he'd be completely obliterated by all those things I've worked so hard to protect him from. All those families... the children. [He sighs, looking down, sympathy dripping with blood.] So unfortunate.

[He's a monster. What did anyone expect?]

[ Sulfur-covered landscapes is all that his brother offers. Hell on Earth. Torment, torture, and brimstone sustained by the mere existence of hope. The insidious feeling burns within him giving him ground to stand on. It holds steady and firm until he starts making sense. Sam was fighting a losing battle. He told Jack as much not long ago. It's why he was here trying to get ahead of it. ]

You weren't trying to protect him.

[ His hand's fist at his sides, nails digging into his palm from the sheer act of holding back the tide of anger boiling inside him with no escape. If he lashed out, if he took a step against him, the delicate threads holding the dream together would snap, breaking the peace. ]

You're using him like you use everyone.

[ He grits out, wings trembling in agitation, needing to take flight him and drag him out. ]

You don't care if he suffers. You only care about yourself.

Edited 2020-12-18 04:59 (UTC)

Did you care if he suffered while the angels listened to his prayers for years and years — full of begging for help for his family? Were you protecting him, when you let him out of the panic room? Were you not using him, when you helped lead him to that convent in Ilchester?

[He steps close, daring Castiel to raise a hand in this sacred place — this dream where Lucifer could so easily pull any string he wanted. Where Castiel could so easily destroy the calm with his grace alone. He stands inches apart and smiles, and there's a cold, overpowering evil behind his eyes. This is the being that twisted human beings into unrecognizable demons. Who tainted humans to their core. The snake in Sam's field.]

All the while, you lied to Dean and Sam both. Pretended you had good intentions, and that Sam was wrong in everything he did — an abomination who would bring about an Apocalypse.

An apocalypse you all lied about wanting to stop. An apocalypse you all jumped for joy over. I came to Sam and offered him more than any of you ever did.

Stones in a glass house, little brother. Red in your ledger.

Explain to me where you have any room to stomp your feet at me?

[The air around Castiel grows thin; a pressure pushes on him from all around his dream form, pinning him with a gravity that comes from all sides of him. Like a butterfly pinned to a board. Lucifer has little power outside of dreams... but here? In his vessel's mind?

Castiel's practically put himself on a landmine by coming in.

... Brave. And stupid.

And sure, he's not strong enough to kill him in the realest sense. But he sure can expel him in a terribly painful way, whenever he's tired of this nonsense.]

Edited 2020-12-18 05:20 (UTC)

[ Reckless anger rises inside him, spurred on by the silver tongue of an angel who was cast out. It colors his world narrowing his focus to the single entity in front of him until Lucifer holds the dream world hostage forcing him to heel. He stills inside his vessel, anger burning behind blue eyes aware of his tactics. It's the same one demons used, no doubt gleaned from their creator. Slipping inside the head of mortal beings, jabbing at their flaws with insidious words laced with just enough truth to make them crumble.

Castiel wasn't perfect, no angel was. He'd faltered, made mistakes, but choosing humanity over the corruption of Heaven and Hell wasn't one of them. Lucifer could throw his mistakes in his face all he wanted but the fact remained, his failings weren't the issue here. What mattered to him, why he was here, was Sam and Dean. Jack, too. He would not be swayed and lose sight of that objective. Not by lies and malice brought forth by an unscrupulous being versed in misdirection. ]

I never used him. Sam or Dean.

[ Pushing back against the storm, he holds his ground, unflinching in the face of one who was once the best of them. ]

I followed orders until they stopped making sense. You went after a child. Used your demons to do your dirty work.

[ Gritting his teeth against the onslaught of power, his wings tremble, folding under the pressure, but still, he does not stop. ]

You forced him into a corner. Made it so he had no other choice but to accept you for a chance at fighting you. You aren't a savior, you're a beast.

[ Fighting Lucifer's power is a losing battle for any seraph evidence by the loss of control he experiences when his fingers start to quiver under the onslaught. ]

That's why you could never understand, I'm not here for me. I'm here for them. I don't care what you do to me. So long as it stops you from hurting them, I'm willing to sacrifice everything.

[His expression darkens when he's likened to a beast. As if everything else spoken has been fair game — but words like beast? Monster? Abomination? Oh, he's heard every synonym in the book from his family. His lips twist into a sneer, and the cold seeps further into the scenery, turning grass brown and wilting yellow poppies into husks.]

Oh, so noble. So graceful, O Rebellious Angel.

[He claps — and which each clap, thunder and lightning rumble, flash in tune with the sound of palm striking palm. In the distance, Sam and Jessica look up with uneasiness as the blue sky slowly grays and whirls with the beginnings of a stormy sky.]

You're right, though. I'm a beast, aren't I? Some serpent in the garden, some boogieman old bitties holler about in Sunday School. If I'm a beast to you, then I'll just have to be a beast in your presence, won't I?

[He holds up his hand, fingers prepared to snap.

Castiel probably remembers that gestures unpleasantly. There's no graveyard here, though, and when he snaps those fingers —

Castiel is unharmed.

Pinned still, but unharmed.

But Jessica suddenly bursts into an explosion of blood and bone and innards, the young Sam sprayed with what's left of her; he stands on the hill in shock for a moment, and his hands shake before it all catches up, and he begins screaming in horror. Jessica's strangled name rings out, but Lucifer's eyes are locked on Castiel as Sam sobs and collapses in his girlfriend's remains.]

Look what you made me do.

How could you, Castiel?

Edited 2020-12-20 13:17 (UTC)

Inbox for deerington

dreamwalkin with your broooo

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: talk of genocidal murder yikes

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: violence, gore