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Bonus Round 2 is now closed, and Bonus Round 3 is now open!

This round, the theme is sins/virtues.

If you have an idea for something you'd like to see, please leave the ship, a sin/virtue, and any other details as a PROMPT below. After you've posted, read through everyone else's prompts, and leave a FILL for any which catch your eye. Fills can be in any media, and they need not be long, but please put a little effort in--if anyone starts spamming this post for points, we'll be able to tell.

You should place PROMPT/FILL, your current team affiliation and a brief summary in the comment title. Do not forget to change the title of the comment when posting a FILL as a reply to a PROMPT. NSFW prompts and fills should mention this in the summary or at the top of the post. Reminder that team names must be in alphabetical order (ie. Balthazar/Death, not Death/Balthazar) and that portmanteaus (ie. Lubriel, Annaby) are not allowed when identifying team affiliation.

You will be awarded five points per prompt for the first five prompts you leave. The first three fills posted for each prompt will receive 15 points, the next three 10 points, and the next three 5 points. Prompts with ten or more fills will no longer receive fill points.

Bonus rounds are still rarepair only, but you can post prompts or fills for any rare ship this round, including gen/platonic ones (which should be indicated with an & as above). Due to some unforeseen complication from last round, we have changed the rules. It is now 15 points per fill for the first three fills by three different people. So if someone does a fic for Fill 1 and a fanmix for Fill 2, then get 15 + 10 points, and then Person 2 does a fill and Person 3 does a fill, so even though those would be fills 3 and 4, they count as 15 and 15 points since they're fills by new people. You are still not permitted to fill your own prompt. We also encourage people not to fill prompts from their teammates, although the points will not be deducted if you do.

Bonus round fills can include links provided they are publicly viewable. Works can also be cross-posted to other websites, as there is no anonymity requirement in bonus rounds. However, works posted directly to comments will be limited to 16,000 characters by the Dreamwidth comment limit. Longer works should therefore be divided between multiple comments.

Remember, Team Chuck can participate in bonus rounds, and if you change teams, points earned will transfer with you until the end of the team shuffle period.

This round is now closed.
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Prompt, Team Dean/Michael, Lust/Gluttony/etc.

Date: 2013-11-01 03:09 pm (UTC)
mistress_snakey: (Default)
From: [personal profile] mistress_snakey
2014!Castiel/Fallen Angels. Castiel was not the only angel who stayed behind. But as the one more acquaintance with human nature, he decides to help his fallen brothers with their newly found human needs.
marie_de_sade: (Default)
From: [personal profile] marie_de_sade

Castiel isn’t sure where they all come from. The angels have been gone for months when the first one shows up at the camp. Castiel doesn’t have even a trace of grace left so he doesn’t feel the fallen angel but as soon as he sees her at the gate he knows.

Castiel has to stop Dean from shooting her on sight.

“So,” Castiel mumbles a little awkwardly. He knows the woman fiddling with the junk on his dresser is his sister but he doesn’t know which one. His heart clenches at the realization and it sickens him to have to ask but it’s not something he can avoid. “Who are you?”

She picks up his clunky, old, flashlight and flicks it on and off, before setting it down and looking up at Castiel. “I suppose it is Suzie now.”

“Oh, you don’t …” Castiel trails off as she picks up a bottle of pills, shakes it and then tosses it over her shoulder. “You don’t have to take your vessels name.”

She scoffs and sits down on his bed, the springs squeak out in protest against the weight. “I might as well.”
Castiel sits down next to Suzie, who is stretching her hands out in front of her and staring at them with mild fascination. “Dean is trying to find a place for you to stay.”

“I’m sure he is,” she shrugs. “I won’t be staying here long.”

“You have nowhere else to go.”

“I will manage.” She thoughtful strokes her long nails, Castiel can just imagine her trying to figure out their use. “Being human is much more painful than I expected.”

“Have you eaten yet?” Castiel puts his hand on Suzie’s shoulder, despite the wary look he gets because of it. “Your body probably wants food.”

“My body,” she frowns and stands. “Well then, I suppose I should do that.”

Castiel takes her back to the supply cabin, he gives her canned tuna, granola bars and peanut butter on stale crackers but she spits out each one out. Suzie looks miserable as she tries to cleanse out the taste of the peanut butter with a mouthful of Dean’s whiskey. He tells her to wait a moment while he gives out the half eaten food to some of the other, no point letting it go to waste, and when he returns he ushers her into Dean’s cabin. After making sure that Dean isn’t around he pulls back the cabin and opens the door hidden in the floor boards.

It’s a small little nook, it doesn’t hold much, just some items that Dean doesn’t want getting stolen. It’s mostly ammo and medical supplies, but off to the side is a stack of mason jars. Dean isn’t much nostalgia but when a supply run ended up at an old lady’s pantry the first thing he grabbed was the canned pie filling. They are usually saved for a night were he’s finished a bottle of Daniels, he twists open the small jar and downs the contents, it’s one of the few times he nearly smiles.

“Here,” Castiel hands her a jar of cherry filling, “Try this.”

She warily dips her finger into the goo, scoops up a glob and sucks the digit into his mouth. Her face instantly brightens and she reaches to take more but Castiel hold the jar away from her. “I want that.”

“I know,” Castiel nods. “This is the only one you can have though, after this you need to eat what everyone else does.”

Suzie’s nose instantly wrinkles in disgust. “But I want that.”

Castiel shakes his head. “This is Dean’s. I’m only doing this for you because we’re family.”

Castiel flinches at the harsh laugh she lets out but she quickly quiets down when she realizes he is serious. “Oh, well, thank you.”

Handing her the jar he rises to his feet and makes way to the door. “You finish that, I’ll keep Dean busy for a bit.”
Castiel rubs his palm against his tired eyes, there was always so much to do and so little time to do it. Chuck was near panicking early and Castiel had to spend all evening trying to calm him and convince him that the camp wasn’t days away from starvation. Walking into his cabin he nearly slips on a jar that was lying on the floor, along with several others in a line straight to the bed.

“What the…” Castiel trails off and picks up the stray jar. It lined with a red slime that Castiel instantly recognizes and he marches right over to the girl sleeping on his head. “Suzie!”

“Mmm, go away,” she replies lazily.

“You ate all of them,” he hisses, slamming the glass on the night table. “Dean- Dean will be furious.”

“It was so good.” She curls in on herself, her arms wrap around her midsection. “But it still hurts.”

“Because you ate too much!” Castiel rolls her onto he back, her stomach is clearly swollen and she must have eaten over twenty jars. “Why didn’t you stop?”

“I don’t know,” she whines. “It didn’t hurt when I was eating it.”

“Damn,” Castiel cusses. “I told you to just eat the one.”

Suzie has already fallen back asleep and Castiel sees no reason to keep yelling at the unconscious angel.
She was gone by the morning anyways.

Days pass and turn into months, soon Castiel forgets all about Suzie, stops wondering where she could have gone. There are more important things to worry about anyways.

Then one day the supply run comes back with a group of survivors and Dean shuffles them off into a spare cabin to quarantine. Castiel doesn’t think much of it, it happens from time to time and he’s frankly still a little buzzed from the pills he took that morning. So he just lounges in his bed and munches on a handful of cereal. There’s a knock on the door and Dean walks in before Castiel can answer.

“Someone’s asking for you,” he tells Castiel. “One of the people we just brought it.”

“I don’t know anyone.”

“Go, don’t go, I don’t care,” Dean shrugs and leaves. Castiel waits till the drugs have completely left his system before he goes to find out for himself who it is.

“Castiel!” A voice calls out before he’s even half way across the lawn. He walks up to the armed guards at the cabin and sees a small blonde trying to wedge herself between them.

“It’s fine,” Castiel tells them. “She can’t get infected she’s…she’s like me.”

It seems strange to still call himself an angel after all this time.

“Whatever.” One moves to the side and lets the girl out, she instantly flings herself at Castiel and hugs him.

“I found you!” She cries out.

“Yes, yes you did.” Castiel pulls her off him and the leads her back to his cabin. “I’m sorry but I don’t know who you are.”

“It’s me,” she blinks as if that’s enough. Thankfully she doesn’t embarrass Castiel by making him guess. “Lailah.”

“Oh.” She had been created around the same time he was but she rarely ever left heaven, he’s sure that is why she still seems to lighthearted.

“I knew I’d find you.”

“Me? Why would you want to find me.”

“I don’t know, I just know I was supposed to.” She taps her chin in thought. “I remember it from before.”

“Before? Before you fell?”

She nods enthusiastically. “So, you can fix this now, right?”

“Fix what?” he asked confused.

“Fix me,” she smiles brightly, “make me an angel again.”

“Lailah…I can’t…I can’t do that.”

The smile instantly drops from the lips. “What?”

“I don’t know why you think I can but I’m no more of an angel than you are.”

“No, no, I was told…” Her bottom lip trembles and tiny pricks of water sting her eyes. “I thought you would help me.”

“I will, I’ll show you how to be human, how to-”

“I don’t want to be human!” She shouts. Tears burst from her eyes and she collapses on Castiel’s bed. “It’s so awful; the world out there, all those people, I don’t want any of that.”

“It’s not so bad, I’ve been like this for years.” The words just make her sob harder.

“Just leave me alone.” He leans down and tries to comfort her but she pulls away. “Please, just go.”

Castiel leaves her, he sits on the steps to his cabin and listens to her sobbing. He tels himself that in the morning she'll be better and he'll helper her then. When he comes back the next day she refuses to get out of bed, the same the day after that and the next, and the next. She spends a week in bed, refusing to eat, refusing to speak no matter how hard Castiel tries to lure her out.

When it seems hopeless he grabs the bottle in his pocket and puts it in her hand. "This will help."

She rolls the bottle on the bed and it falls onto the ground. Castiel tries again, pulling the cap off and dropping the pills in her hand. "Please, just try it. You can fly again."

She doesn't move and Castiel thinks that he's lost her but then her mouth slowly opens. Castiel gives her a weak smile before twisting open a water bottle and pops a few pills in his own mouth.

A few minutes later they're both on the ground and she has that sam bright aura he remembered her having. It really is like flying, being warm and weightless, the drugs are the closes he ever comes to salvation.

"You're glowing, Castiel," she grins up at him. He grabs her hips and drags her on top of him. "You're glowing just like you used to."

Castiel teachers her a lot of things that night. He shows her bliss, sex, laughter and affection. She learns even more the next day; pain, despair, loss. Like he once did she drowns herself in the pills she can sneak out of the supplies.

The next time an angel shows up in camp Castiel promises to try harder, promises that this one won't end up like he did. That one lasts 6 months before he follows. The same thing happens to the next one and the next.

Castiel isn't sure if it's humanity they can't handle or if Castiel really does corrupt everything he touches.
Edited Date: 2013-11-03 11:57 pm (UTC)
the_harkness_monster: (Default)
From: [personal profile] the_harkness_monster
dean has never been a devout man. What little faith he may have had, he gave up long ago. However, his inexplicable attraction to Ezekiel changes things. He goes to Ezekiel and expresses his desire to "make up for this lack of faith" and to devote himself to Ezekiel. (preferably leaning in the nsfw direction)

prompt, team crowley/sam, mooseley - patience

Date: 2013-11-01 07:24 pm (UTC)
the_harkness_monster: (Default)
From: [personal profile] the_harkness_monster
Crowley teaches Sam a lesson in patience (despite the fact that demons aren't really big on the whole "virtues" thing). Crowley demonstrates this concept in the way he knows best, "the sexy way."

Prompt, (Team Crowley/Sam), Lucifer's Virtues

Date: 2013-11-01 07:41 pm (UTC)
mooseleys: (Default)
From: [personal profile] mooseleys
It was in sin that Lucifer created demons. He should not have been surprised when they took their origins to heart, but he never expected them to embody them so perfectly. He gathered them, the tortured souls, and tried to teach them better, to teach them about the virtues that God wanted from all his creations, but they didn't understand. He should not have been surprised, or disappointed. But he was. ((up to interpretation, but bonus points for Lucifer's daddy issues and demons being disappointed at how angelic Lucifer still is))

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Gabriel & Gluttony

Date: 2013-11-02 12:27 am (UTC)
pandalianxx: (Default)
From: [personal profile] pandalianxx
Gabriel with his mounds of candy (c'mon, it's in canon~) and his inability to stop eating them~ Maybe some other character intervenes, trying to get him to stop? Or maybe just him gushing over different kinds of foods? >w>

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Humility/Pride

Date: 2013-11-02 12:33 am (UTC)
pandalianxx: (Default)
From: [personal profile] pandalianxx
An AU~ Something where Samandriel and Kevin go to the same school and Samadandriel is almost the human embodiment of humility, which he teaches to Kevin, who certainly does not have time to deal with some goody two-shoes kids who strives only to please others.

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Patience

Date: 2013-11-02 12:39 am (UTC)
pandalianxx: (Default)
From: [personal profile] pandalianxx
Hallucination!Lucifer is oddly patient with Castiel's increasing fear of him. He's merely waiting for the time Castiel calms down enough to sit down and have a proper conversation with him about, say, the birds and the bees. Who knows. After all, he was only a product of Sam's time in Hell. Of course, Castiel's like a cat to water with him. So it'll take quite a bit of waiting before he finally becomes used to him... right?

Fill: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Patience

Date: 2013-11-03 11:33 pm (UTC)
fatalchild: (Default)
From: [personal profile] fatalchild

“Hello, brother.”

Castiel had recoiled from him, jerked sharply across the room and pressed himself against the far wall, face contorted with fear. It was the expected reaction, but it didn’t soften the blow. The image on the bed was almost certainly not Lucifer, just a manifestation from Hell that wore his face, but he seemed to think he was Lucifer. Perhaps that was why Castiel hated him so much.

“You don’t deserve to look like him,” Castiel says softly, refusing to pull his eyes from a fleck of peeling paint in the corner.

Lucifer tilts his head, brows knitting together in a small frown. “How would you like me to look?”

“Like what you are.”

He’s thoughtful for a moment, nodding quietly before unfolding from the confines of his imagined vessel, stretching out immense wings and radiating beautifully cool light.

“Stop!” Castiel cries sharply.

And Lucifer does, confined in the visage of borrowed skin once more. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I thought that was what you wanted.

Castiel runs from the room.


The voices in his head keep him from any sort of peacefulness. Castiel’s mind is a chorus of murdered angels and screaming human souls. They curse him, blame him, degrade him to the point that he falls sobbing onto his bed and tries to hide under the thin, white hospital sheets.

“You shouldn’t listen to them,” Lucifer says softly.

“Please go away. Please.”

“Do you remember when you were young? Heaven was so beautiful then; everything was beautiful. You would come sit with me, and I would teach you how to sing the hymns to God. Your voice was--”

“Leave me alone!”

Castiel flees again, running out to the dayroom and huddling up under a table. He’s easily able to fend off the staff, and it takes hours to coax him out of hiding. When he finally returns to his room, Lucifer is gone. The screeching voices are not.


The line between fantasy and reality starts to blur. Castiel sleeps with an angel blade under his pillow because he knows they’re coming for him. He knows he deserves it too, but he’s afraid to die. His hand slides under the fabric, fingers curling around smooth metal, and he begins to wonder how quickly it’s all over, if maybe this time, it would stay quiet inside his head.

“Please don’t.”

“What do you care?”

“You’re my little brother.”

“You killed me.”

“I brought you back.”

“Liar. God did that.”

“Did you see God?”


“I don’t lie, Castiel.”

Castiel turns sharply away, shoulders hunched, blankets gathered up.

“I’m worried about you,” Lucifer whispers, and his fingers are cool when they brush through Castiel’s hair.


“I already told you why.”

Castiel turns his face into his pillow and chokes on a sob. “Don’t do this to me.”

“What am I doing?”

“Just leave. Just leave…”

“I worry about what you’ll do if left on your own.” Lucifer sighs. “Keep your back turned. I’ll be silent. You won’t even know I’m here.”


“Just let me watch over you.”

Castiel closes his eyes and says nothing. Lucifer doesn’t leave his side.


The world around him ceases to be white and drips with an inky blackness that seeps out of every line of the walls. It gathers around him in sickenly stagnant puddles that confine him to small corners for how he’s afraid to cross them. Then they’ll just be gone, evaporating into nothing, and Castiel will see Lucifer looking at him across the room, but the image of the archangel never speaks to him, not until Castiel does first.

“I hate you,” he whispers, staring out a barred window.

Lucifer frowns, looks up from where he’s poised on the desk. “I’m sorry?”

“I hate you,” Castiel says again, firmer now. “I hate that you look like him. I hate that you sound like him. I hate that you act like him. It’s not fair.”


“Because you’re not supposed to be him,” he spits, turning sharply and staring with wet, red-rimmed eyes. “You’re supposed to be evil. You’re supposed to be a monster. You’re supposed to be this thing spawned out of Hell that is nothing like my brother ever was.”

Lucifer purses his lips and tilts his head. “Now tell me, little brother, are you talking about the supposed devil or the supposed hallucination?”

Castiel’s lip curls, and he looks away again.

“Do you think I’m a monster?” Lucifer asks softly.

“They say you tortured Sam.”

“They say a lot of things.”

“I saw, felt how ruined his soul was.”

“Perhaps, but have I tortured you?”

Castiel doesn’t answer.

“Have I hurt you at all during this time, little brother? Have I given you any reason to believe all these things you were told?” Another beat of silence, and Lucifer nods solemnly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare presume to know what I think of him. Don’t you dare presume to know what I--” Castiel spins, face twisting as he beats his fists against a surprisingly firm chest. “Get out of him!” he cries. “Stop looking like him. Stop talking like him. Stop reminding me!” He breaks into tears then, crumbling forward into arms that are simply waiting to catch him.

Lucifer holds him close, waiting silently until the sobbing subsides, gently brushing his fingers over the little curls at the nape of Castiel’s neck.

“I hate you,” he says once more.

“Tell me why.”

Castiel looks up, bottom lip trembling as the last of his tears stain his cheeks. “Because you left me,” he whispers.

Lucifer nods. “And I am deeply, truly sorry.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I understand, but I’m here now, little brother, and I am not leaving you.”

Castiel shakes his head, closing his eyes as Lucifer’s lips press his forehead.

“You’ll see,” Lucifer says softly, holding Castiel to his chest again. “I’m here with you, and I’m not going anywhere. One day, you’ll believe me.”

One day, many months later, Castiel greets him with a smile.

“Hello, brother.”

Edited Date: 2013-11-04 01:31 am (UTC)

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Wrath

Date: 2013-11-02 12:44 am (UTC)
pandalianxx: (Default)
From: [personal profile] pandalianxx
Pretty much Lucifer and how he felt while he killed all the Pagans~ Maybe his murderous intent for them? Or... iunno, I really like things that describe how a character is feeling and their motivation for it. So I'm hoping maybe the massacre of the pagans and how Luci was feeling while he killed them?
fatalchild: (Default)
From: [personal profile] fatalchild
Warning for blood and violence and general unpleasantness.

The message was very simple.

They have a sword. She killed Gabriel, and--

Lucifer saw red. He knew his younger brother had been involved with some less than reputable beings, but this-- this was too much.

He didn’t intend a massacre. He only wanted one, just the one who had killed Gabriel, plunged his own sword into his chest. Lucifer could only imagine the pitiful glance he would have given her. He was, after all, on her side. Of course, she’s hiding behind the others, but that won’t matter. Lucifer will find her.

The first one he kills on principle. There is, perhaps, something to be said for self-preservation, but this petty, self-serving nonsense coupled with the declaration of divinity turns his stomach, twists it up so much that Nick stirs within him for the first time in months. A single snap of one traitorous little neck, and Lucifer starts to feel better.

As he advances down the corridor, he expects them to flee. He wouldn’t chase them, wouldn’t have any reason to, but they throw themselves at him. Briefly, he wonders if they’re protecting her, but then Lucifer decides that he doesn’t particularly care. Likewise, their names and faces mean nothing to him. They’re just worthless, souless lumps of flesh that break apart like anything else does if enough pressure is applied.

The first one that runs at him, he catches by the throat. He can feel the race of a pulse under his palm, the clench of a panicked swallow. Lucifer’s fingers curl into the flesh, tear the windpipe out, leaving the god a sputtering mess on the floor. If Gabriel doesn’t get to breathe anymore, neither do you. The next one is holding some kind of weapon and giving a battle cry as he rushes forward, as if he were some kind of warrior, as if he were some kind of hero, as if he were righteous. His ribs break apart in his chest, collapsing in on his internal organs, and Lucifer offers a hint of a smile because, really, they’re all greedy and shallow and prideful. Two more then, at least showing some semblance of strategy. It’s not enough now though, and they fall together as well. One hisses the word Satan, growls out that he’s a monster through bloody lips, and Lucifer stops, Michael’s glare flashing in his memory, that same cruel whisper echoing inside his mind. Monster. You’re a monster, Lucifer. He turns, bends, hooks his fingers into him to tear him apart. The sound of the god screaming is nearly drowned out by tearing skin and snapping bone.

I’m an angel, he thinks. Angel. Angel. Angel.

Hell roars in his ears.

The hall is smeared with red when he’s finished. It’s spattered and sprayed across the walls, across his face, soaking into his clothes. Lucifer doesn’t care. Beautiful, they used to say. The Morning Star is beautiful. Now they say monster.

If they want a monster, he’ll give them one.

He’s unsurprised to find the Winchesters here, unsurprised to find that they stare at him with horror too. He smiles through it, pretends it doesn’t bother him, but his rage flares at the realization of what these supposed gods intended. His brother. His vessel. He has so little, and they would seek to take it all.

The ease with which his hand tears through the next god’s chest is immensely satisfying. The warm stickiness clings to him up to his elbow, and Lucifer sneers as he shakes the corpse off. He’s lost count by now, not that he ever cared to try and keep such, but there’s a literal trail of bodies leading him here.

And there she is.

The flames engulf him, like insult to injury after all she’s already done, a sick reminder of where he’s spent so many years while things like this ran free. He’s incensed by her hubris, that she acts indignant, acts as if he has wronged her after what she stole from him. He steps forward, a cold smile playing over his lips at the promise of vindication. Her body is soft against his knuckles, frail and easily broken as she’s thrown off her feet. Lucifer glares down at her, sees the fear in her eyes, wonders briefly if Gabriel was afraid in his last moments. He almost surely was, and because of that, Lucifer lets the moment hang. He decides that she doesn’t deserve to look like that, doesn’t deserve to look wronged, and so he lifts his foot to crush her face and wipe every expression away forever.

He’s thrown then, sliding across the floor and crashing against the wall with enough force to disorient him. Lucifer might be more angry if he weren’t so confused. These things shouldn’t be able to hurt him, shouldn’t be able to--

“Luci, I’m home.”

Lucifer stares quietly for a moment, a thousand childhood memories fitting into place at the familiar voice echoing beneath the vessel’s vocal cords. He looks up, finds Gabriel very much alive, and forgets how to move. A cold, stony pit replaces the burning knots in his stomach as he realizes that his little brother set him up. Lucifer forgets how to be angry, and his heart simply breaks.

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Sloth

Date: 2013-11-02 12:48 am (UTC)
pandalianxx: (Default)
From: [personal profile] pandalianxx
It's an incredibly cold, winter day. An SPN character is curled up in front of a fire, cuddled into mountains of blankets and they have a mug of hot chocolate near them. I just kind of want something where they're unmoveable and none of the other characters can get them to do anything

Prompt, (Team Crowley/Sam), Sins and Virtues

Date: 2013-11-02 12:18 pm (UTC)
mooseleys: (Default)
From: [personal profile] mooseleys
Crowley gets tired of Sam acting like he's so much more virtuous than Crowley and begins pointing out the ways in which he fits the seven deadly sins. Sam, in retaliation, points out the ways which Crowley fits the seven heavenly virtues. They're both secretly pleased the other noticed these traits in him.

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Envy

Date: 2013-11-02 01:42 pm (UTC)
fatalchild: (Default)
From: [personal profile] fatalchild
Castiel/Lucifer (/Michael)

Michael is used to Lucifer always favoring him. Even in Heaven, he and Lucifer were so much closer than other angels tended to be, but now that Lucifer has taken up with Castiel, Michael feels a little displaced. Bonus points if he's aware of the sinful nature of such thoughts, and even more if he ends up included in the relationship. (OT3, yes)

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Patience

Date: 2013-11-02 01:43 pm (UTC)
fatalchild: (Default)
From: [personal profile] fatalchild
Alastair/Dean, gen or ship. Alastair is a patient teacher. That's it. That's the whole prompt.

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Possessiveness

Date: 2013-11-02 01:49 pm (UTC)
fatalchild: (Default)
From: [personal profile] fatalchild
Castiel/Lucifer. Possessive Lucifer, possessive Cas, either or both, just that they belong to each other, and they don't like when others infringe on that connection.

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Pride

Date: 2013-11-02 01:53 pm (UTC)
fatalchild: (Default)
From: [personal profile] fatalchild
Alastair/Lucifer (stop judging me). The boy looks at him like he's a god. He isn't, but it's nice to feel holy again.

FILL: Team Anna/Ruby, Holy

Date: 2013-11-04 12:26 am (UTC)
mllenightingale: (Default)
From: [personal profile] mllenightingale
Hhhhhh I totally did not squeal when I saw that ship, okay. Oh my fucking god, I love you for this prompt.

So I turned this into an Alastair-before-he-was-a-demon kinda thing — someone who actually pays attention to ancient ancient history might punch me for the blatant disregard of how cultures [ and technically + language ] actually develop about and all that — I'm pretty sure that back when humans evolved into humans, they still didn't have villages and proper speech [ not to mention English ] and all that, but oh well.

As a note about canon timelines, I'm going with a friend's headcanon on how white-eyed demons are turned by Lucifer himself, which means that Alastair was Lucifer's Second and by the second part of this, Lilith-the-demon is already in existence. Presumably, not long after this Al would turn white-eyed and demon-y.

When he lays a hand on the body of the near-dead feline, stitching together wounds and cleaning away smeared viscera with a mere thought, the boy looks up at his blemished, wilting form with reverence shining in child’s eyes, wide and gleaming with silent worship. There’s unabashed curiosity within the veneration, the kind of innocence that comes along with the blissful ignorance of early youth.

For a moment, Lucifer allows himself to venture within the vicious grasp of nostalgia; the blind idolization is reminiscent of the time when he was received as another god in his own right. Since then, he’s fallen farther than he could have ever envisioned before — lost Heaven’s favour and his Father’s affections and been banished from his home into residence within the decaying flesh vessel of one of the humans he so despises.

As he’s sprung out of his reverie by a warm hand tugging tentatively at his finger, he feels a sentiment resembling resentment of the boy who so fleetingly made him feel holy once again. Lucifer raises a hand to his forehead, extending two fingers and pressing them against his skin, and the child — Alastair, he’s called — falls to the ground in sleep.

He returns to the village when thirty years have passed, having wandered from place to place upon the Earth’s surface in the endlessly long hours in between. Within moments of his arrival, he’s discovered that they’ve succumbed to greed and wrath— engulfed within a cycle of strife with a neighbouring settlement of humans. It’s inexcusable, another distasteful mark of evidence out of countless that continue to reinforce his initial declarations of the creatures’ flawed natures, and he considers the benefits of razing both establishments and their inhabitants to the ground.

The man who catches him behind a shelter of sticks and leaves with flame cradled in the palm of his hand takes him by surprise, not from any shouts of warning to his peers from the lack thereof— and when Lucifer takes in his visage, he recognizes the boy he came across three decades ago, not so far from where they stand now. The guilelessness of childhood has vanished, reeling in its place an identity characterized by a striking medley of cruelty and disillusionment.

“If you’re planning to let this place burn, let me join you,” Alastair says with a turn of his lips that marks incredible distaste, and there’s no trace of compassion that might suggest anything but what his words imply.

“Only if you mean it,” Lucifer replies, and in the following chaos of fire and death and the mingling scents of scorched wood and forest and flesh, the man proves his dedication.
Edited Date: 2013-11-04 12:30 am (UTC)

Re: FILL: Team Anna/Ruby, Holy

From: [personal profile] fatalchild - Date: 2013-11-04 01:27 am (UTC) - Expand

Prompt, Team Dean/Michael, Pride

Date: 2013-11-02 03:02 pm (UTC)
mistress_snakey: (Default)
From: [personal profile] mistress_snakey
Anna and Mary/John (Or Mary/Anna/John if you want to go there) - Anna arrives a couple of days before Sam, Dean and Castiel do. Before killing John, she decides to watch them first. While she does, seen them going through highs and lows, but still keeping their heads up and a smile on their faces, she is reminded of why she felt in love with humanity in the first place.

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Gluttony (lust?)

Date: 2013-11-02 11:26 pm (UTC)
fatalchild: (Default)
From: [personal profile] fatalchild
Castiel/Benny. Drinking human is dangerous, but taking Cas' blood doesn't seem to hurt him so much. Angel blood is like a drug though, easy to get addicted to, and once he's started, Benny finds it hard to stop. Totally okay if gluttony turns into lust and this goes NSFW.
marie_de_sade: (Default)
From: [personal profile] marie_de_sade
Any characters. A dual perspective on a certain character where one side views his action as loyal while the other views it as a betrayal. (ex Castiel betraying heaven/being loyal to the Winchesters, Gabriel betraying Lucifer/being loyal to humans).
marie_de_sade: (Default)
From: [personal profile] marie_de_sade
Angel of choice experiencing their first sin (or thinking about something sinful) and their reaction to it. Do they freak out? Do they act upon their thoughts? Do they feel guilty?

Fill: Team Castiel/Lucifer, First Sin

Date: 2013-11-03 10:12 pm (UTC)
fatalchild: (Default)
From: [personal profile] fatalchild

The thought hit him all at once, sudden and out of nowhere.

Why should we have to bow?

Lucifer was stunned for a moment, quickly withdrawing to an isolated section of Heaven and trying to close his consciousness off from the rest of the Host. It didn’t really help. In fact, it made him feel more broken and ashamed for hiding when what had he really done but have a thought? It was a deviant thought though, something wicked and rebellious, something that challenged the will of God and thus committed the most unforgivable sin. He decided, quite simply, that he would just ignore it. It would go away. Lucifer didn’t want to be that person.

He kept to himself after that, grace perpetually in turmoil, watching evolution and trying not to think. Humans were God’s chosen children, and he would have to learn to love them. He needed to love them, but still, whenever Lucifer looked at them, he felt nothing but a cold hollowness at his core. Father forgive him, but why did they have to be so filthy? It wasn’t the biology that appalled him; he found that relatively interesting. It was the pettiness, the asinine squabbling, the selfish violence they inflicted upon one another without true cause or reason. Humans were such corrupt little things. And Lucifer was supposed to love them. How?

This question came to him even easier than the first one had, and Lucifer looked quickly around himself to make sure nobody had overheard. A pit of self-loathing settled at the heart of his essence and soured his mood. Soon, his siblings began to notice, and that only made it worse.

First it was the little ones, young angels like Inias and Anna and Castiel. They trailed along after him, dancing happily among the stars, blissfully unaware of their futures and his dark thoughts. They would draw close to him, brushing wings against his and asking in gentle whispers why he appeared so troubled. Lucifer wouldn’t lie to them, but he also couldn’t tell them the truth. He tried to smooth things over with vague answers that meant practically nothing. I find myself weary today. I saw something troubling in the new world, but I’m sure it’s of no consequence. Don’t fret; I’ll be fine tomorrow. He never was.

Gabriel came next, not so much bothering to find out the source of his brother’s misery as he sought to fix it. He tried to entice Lucifer into games, the sort of playfulness that had delighted them through their youth, but ultimately found him unresponsive, offering the same half-formed excuses. I’m sorry, little brother. I just don’t feel like it today.

The tenderness with which his younger siblings crowded around him and sought to console him only made the vile selfishness of humanity stand out in even starker contrast. How could God raise humans above angels when one shone with love and support for their kin and the other seemed to view life as nothing more than a self-serving competitions.

And there he was asking questions again.

But worst of all was Michael. Whether he noticed last or simply tried not to acknowledge the situation, Lucifer didn’t know, but when his older brother finally came to him, his eyes were a mix of pity and disappointment. Lucifer couldn’t meet them. It was as though Michael knew already what was inside of him, as though he could see all the anger and doubt prickling the center of Lucifer’s grace and clouding the radiance that had given him his name.

Lucifer began to feel as though these humans were going to ruin him, and then, he began to hate.

The feeling was unfamiliar, something sick and dark churning deep inside of him. Doubt prickled constantly, stealing every second of peace of mind that he tried to grasp for, feeding the hatred which then fed the doubt in return. Soon enough, Lucifer stopped questioning and started knowing. Humans were flawed, broken creatures, and even if the other angels, in all their superior splendor and light, could bow down before them, he simply could not. There was no faking love and devotion, so in the end, Lucifer had no choice.

Disobedience came to him like a strike of lightning: sharp and hot and all-consuming, and so he fell and became much the same.

Edited Date: 2013-11-03 10:15 pm (UTC)

Prompt (team Castiel/Lucifer), Sam, Wrath

Date: 2013-11-03 03:34 am (UTC)
marie_de_sade: (Default)
From: [personal profile] marie_de_sade
After Dean is sent to hell, Sam goes on a rampage. He turns his anger at the monster he hunts but one day he runs into a monster that the past him would have let go (a younger one, vampire that doesn't drink from humans, ect) and kills him/her anyways. Later, either once Dean comes back or just later that day, the guilt sets in.

Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer. Casifer

Date: 2013-11-03 11:59 pm (UTC)
marie_de_sade: (Default)
From: [personal profile] marie_de_sade
Castiel loves Lucifer but because of his reeducation in heaven, his mind keeps viewing it as a sin. Everytime he's with him his mind screams at him that it's wrong.
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