Fic: Sinfully Delicious
Jul. 4th, 2010 03:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunspotTitle: Sinfully Delicious
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: 13+ for language
Word Count: ~1200
Warnings: Should I warn for dead pandas? Okay, I'm warning for dead pandas.
Summary: The Devil is having a hard time getting back into the swing of ruling hell and Sam Winchester tastes like sweet vanilla.
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: Prompted byepiphanyx7, egged on by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spnland. Characters and series creative property of Eric Kripke, The CW and it's affiliates
Lucifer stretched his arms up over his head and yawned. Ever since he'd agreed to end his assault on the world under mostly peaceful terms, he'd been pulling fourteen and fifteen hour days at the office trying to clear up the paperwork.
All he really wanted was a quick dip in the Lake of Fire and a good night's sleep on his mattress made of dead baby pandas, but these damned souls weren't going to process themselves. Hell had tried that once. It was pretty hectic; they were still trying to get the hoof prints off the ceilings in the blood dungeons.
Lucifer's mind wandered worse and worse these days. He shook his head to clear and picked up his pen again.
And it wasn't just his sleep schedule that was suffering. He couldn't remember the last time he ate a meal that had included some sort of fresh fruit or vegetable.
"Brought you some sugary treats, my extra naughty and most generally unpleasant Dark Lord," a lesser demon said, scraping and bowing and setting an arrangement of cupcakes on the edge of the desk. It scampered out again before Lucifer could protest.
Lucifer groaned. Cupcakes, it had to be cupcakes. He had discovered them during his stay on Earth. So sugary and full of fat. Lucifer glared at them. They played hell (excuse the pun) with his diet and he was trying to quit, but... The coloured sugar glistened seductively on the top of the nearest treat.
Dammit.
He flung the paperwork and associated business off his desk and crawled up on the desk on his knees. He bent until he was eye level with the tray of cupcakes.
"Now you listen to me, you sweet, icing capped sonofabitch, you are not going to beat me at this. I don't care how yummy you think you are, we're in Hell now and I make the rules. Daddy's home, bitch."
"Um... Hello?"
Lucifer froze. This was an embarrassing moment to be caught in. Lucifer sat up and tugged on the sleeves of his shirt to straighten them. He formulated a quick lie about testing the load bearing capacity of the desk and turned to face the door.
There was no one there.
The over-work must have been getting to him. "Oh my," he sighed, sitting down again and straightening his papers. "I don't like you," he muttered at the plate of cupcakes.
"Me?"
Lucifer's head snapped around. "What the here?"
"Um?"
"Who's there?"
"Who's where?"
Lucifer leaned on the button that summoned a minion.
"Yes, my sinful and so badly behaved master?"
"What the fuck is up with these cupcakes?"
"My lord? Our chefs tried to duplicate the Earthen recipe. Apparently you can't get vanilla or vanilla extract in Hell, sir. So our head pastry chef substituted fresh human souls for vanilla. He said it added a little extra zing. Is there a problem? Do they not taste fresh enough? I can have the kitchen staff executed and dismembered."
"... No. Get out."
Lucifer turned back "So you're a soul cupcake then?"
"I'm a cupcake... Is this a joke? Dean?"
"Sam Winchester?" Lucifer's eyes went comically wide.
"Who's there? How do you know my name? Where the hell am I? Why is it so dark?"
The Devil sat back down at his desk and eyed the cupcakes carefully. It stood to reason that the human souls that had made this batch of cupcakes had included Sam Winchester's and it was plausible that a particularly strong soul could retain some vestiges of consciousness. Shit.
Lucifer glared at the tray, as if willing it to evaporate. It didn't, of course, which indicated to the Morningstar that his heart wasn't really in it. He was the freaking Devil, if he wanted something to explode, it damn well exploded. Sometimes there was even confetti.
"Hello?" the cupcake said again.
Lucifer didn't even know where to start. "Hello..."
"You sound sad. What's been going on? Something you want to talk about?"
"I -- What?" He was taken aback. Did the Sam-cake just ask him how he was feeling?
"You sounded upset about something. I just asked what's up."
Lucifer took a deep breath. "I don't really..." He looked around like he was expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out from behind the triceratops skeleton coat rack with his wannabe Bobby Singer trucker hat and his film crew to say this had all been some sort of sick, hurtful joke.
"It's cool though, if you don't want to talk about it. I know all about keep your secrets and feelings bottled up. I mean, it's not healthy, but hey, if you want to hide it all away until you explode either physically or maybe just metaphorically. Your choice though."
Lucifer jabbed at one of the cupcakes on the tray and licked the butter cream icing off his claw. The self-aware baked good was right. Satan had been fronting for so long he'd forgotten how to be himself. He put on such a show for his family and then later his demons and damned souls, he had completely worn himself out.
"Just messing with you," the cupcake said mildly. "It's cool. I bet everything's fine."
"No," Lucifer sighed, "you're right. I'm kind of a wreck these days. It's work, mostly."
On some level, Lucifer felt that the cupcake was nodding along with him even though it didn't have a head.
"I get that. Back when I used to be a hunter, times got tough. When you stay so busy and always surrounded by other people, it's hard to catch any time for yourself, right? It's okay to tell people you need time to yourself. Just take a few days, a weekend maybe. Catch a long nap, maybe go for a jog, whatever gets you off."
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Um, can I say something?"
The cupcake that currently housed Sam's soul chuckled. "Did I ruffle your feathers?"
"No, no, I don't have feathers in this form. It's just. Uh. Did you know you're a cupcake?" The Devil rubbed his temples. He could feel a headache coming on. This man was once going to be Satan's vessel in the fight to destroy the world, and now he was a rainbow chip cupcake dispensing zen wisdom and advising people to have sexual intercourse as a means for stress relief.
As far as afternoons in Hell went, this was still pretty bizarre.
"Did you just tell me I'm a cupcake?" cupcake Sam said.
"'Fraid so."
"So I'm a talking cupcake?"
"Yep. And you're giving away free therapy to strangers. If I were you, which I'm not because I currently have hands and a face, I'd be rethinking my priorities."
"What am I going to do?!" Sam almost wailed. "How am I going to fix this?"
Lucifer allowed a moment of silence for the poor, shape-confused soul of Sam Winchester. Sam had been a halfway decent person, he thought, and he was right. The Devil needed to start taking more time for himself and damn everyone else who had a problem with that (literally!).
"Lucenzo!" he shouted out the door. "Get me a damn veggie tray in here. Extra mushrooms! And knock it the fuck off with all these cupcakes! You're going give me diabetes or something!"
While the first minion bowed and scraped and got together a presentable tray of vegetables, another came in to remove the cupcakes.
Lucifer smacked his hand away as he tried to lift the tray. "One for the road," he announced. So the Devil ate the Sam cupcake, paper wrapper and all, and he was sinfully delicious.
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: 13+ for language
Word Count: ~1200
Warnings: Should I warn for dead pandas? Okay, I'm warning for dead pandas.
Summary: The Devil is having a hard time getting back into the swing of ruling hell and Sam Winchester tastes like sweet vanilla.
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: Prompted by
epiphanyx7, egged on by spnland. Characters and series creative property of Eric Kripke, The CW and it's affiliatesLucifer stretched his arms up over his head and yawned. Ever since he'd agreed to end his assault on the world under mostly peaceful terms, he'd been pulling fourteen and fifteen hour days at the office trying to clear up the paperwork.
All he really wanted was a quick dip in the Lake of Fire and a good night's sleep on his mattress made of dead baby pandas, but these damned souls weren't going to process themselves. Hell had tried that once. It was pretty hectic; they were still trying to get the hoof prints off the ceilings in the blood dungeons.
Lucifer's mind wandered worse and worse these days. He shook his head to clear and picked up his pen again.
And it wasn't just his sleep schedule that was suffering. He couldn't remember the last time he ate a meal that had included some sort of fresh fruit or vegetable.
"Brought you some sugary treats, my extra naughty and most generally unpleasant Dark Lord," a lesser demon said, scraping and bowing and setting an arrangement of cupcakes on the edge of the desk. It scampered out again before Lucifer could protest.
Lucifer groaned. Cupcakes, it had to be cupcakes. He had discovered them during his stay on Earth. So sugary and full of fat. Lucifer glared at them. They played hell (excuse the pun) with his diet and he was trying to quit, but... The coloured sugar glistened seductively on the top of the nearest treat.
Dammit.
He flung the paperwork and associated business off his desk and crawled up on the desk on his knees. He bent until he was eye level with the tray of cupcakes.
"Now you listen to me, you sweet, icing capped sonofabitch, you are not going to beat me at this. I don't care how yummy you think you are, we're in Hell now and I make the rules. Daddy's home, bitch."
"Um... Hello?"
Lucifer froze. This was an embarrassing moment to be caught in. Lucifer sat up and tugged on the sleeves of his shirt to straighten them. He formulated a quick lie about testing the load bearing capacity of the desk and turned to face the door.
There was no one there.
The over-work must have been getting to him. "Oh my," he sighed, sitting down again and straightening his papers. "I don't like you," he muttered at the plate of cupcakes.
"Me?"
Lucifer's head snapped around. "What the here?"
"Um?"
"Who's there?"
"Who's where?"
Lucifer leaned on the button that summoned a minion.
"Yes, my sinful and so badly behaved master?"
"What the fuck is up with these cupcakes?"
"My lord? Our chefs tried to duplicate the Earthen recipe. Apparently you can't get vanilla or vanilla extract in Hell, sir. So our head pastry chef substituted fresh human souls for vanilla. He said it added a little extra zing. Is there a problem? Do they not taste fresh enough? I can have the kitchen staff executed and dismembered."
"... No. Get out."
Lucifer turned back "So you're a soul cupcake then?"
"I'm a cupcake... Is this a joke? Dean?"
"Sam Winchester?" Lucifer's eyes went comically wide.
"Who's there? How do you know my name? Where the hell am I? Why is it so dark?"
The Devil sat back down at his desk and eyed the cupcakes carefully. It stood to reason that the human souls that had made this batch of cupcakes had included Sam Winchester's and it was plausible that a particularly strong soul could retain some vestiges of consciousness. Shit.
Lucifer glared at the tray, as if willing it to evaporate. It didn't, of course, which indicated to the Morningstar that his heart wasn't really in it. He was the freaking Devil, if he wanted something to explode, it damn well exploded. Sometimes there was even confetti.
"Hello?" the cupcake said again.
Lucifer didn't even know where to start. "Hello..."
"You sound sad. What's been going on? Something you want to talk about?"
"I -- What?" He was taken aback. Did the Sam-cake just ask him how he was feeling?
"You sounded upset about something. I just asked what's up."
Lucifer took a deep breath. "I don't really..." He looked around like he was expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out from behind the triceratops skeleton coat rack with his wannabe Bobby Singer trucker hat and his film crew to say this had all been some sort of sick, hurtful joke.
"It's cool though, if you don't want to talk about it. I know all about keep your secrets and feelings bottled up. I mean, it's not healthy, but hey, if you want to hide it all away until you explode either physically or maybe just metaphorically. Your choice though."
Lucifer jabbed at one of the cupcakes on the tray and licked the butter cream icing off his claw. The self-aware baked good was right. Satan had been fronting for so long he'd forgotten how to be himself. He put on such a show for his family and then later his demons and damned souls, he had completely worn himself out.
"Just messing with you," the cupcake said mildly. "It's cool. I bet everything's fine."
"No," Lucifer sighed, "you're right. I'm kind of a wreck these days. It's work, mostly."
On some level, Lucifer felt that the cupcake was nodding along with him even though it didn't have a head.
"I get that. Back when I used to be a hunter, times got tough. When you stay so busy and always surrounded by other people, it's hard to catch any time for yourself, right? It's okay to tell people you need time to yourself. Just take a few days, a weekend maybe. Catch a long nap, maybe go for a jog, whatever gets you off."
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Um, can I say something?"
The cupcake that currently housed Sam's soul chuckled. "Did I ruffle your feathers?"
"No, no, I don't have feathers in this form. It's just. Uh. Did you know you're a cupcake?" The Devil rubbed his temples. He could feel a headache coming on. This man was once going to be Satan's vessel in the fight to destroy the world, and now he was a rainbow chip cupcake dispensing zen wisdom and advising people to have sexual intercourse as a means for stress relief.
As far as afternoons in Hell went, this was still pretty bizarre.
"Did you just tell me I'm a cupcake?" cupcake Sam said.
"'Fraid so."
"So I'm a talking cupcake?"
"Yep. And you're giving away free therapy to strangers. If I were you, which I'm not because I currently have hands and a face, I'd be rethinking my priorities."
"What am I going to do?!" Sam almost wailed. "How am I going to fix this?"
Lucifer allowed a moment of silence for the poor, shape-confused soul of Sam Winchester. Sam had been a halfway decent person, he thought, and he was right. The Devil needed to start taking more time for himself and damn everyone else who had a problem with that (literally!).
"Lucenzo!" he shouted out the door. "Get me a damn veggie tray in here. Extra mushrooms! And knock it the fuck off with all these cupcakes! You're going give me diabetes or something!"
While the first minion bowed and scraped and got together a presentable tray of vegetables, another came in to remove the cupcakes.
Lucifer smacked his hand away as he tried to lift the tray. "One for the road," he announced. So the Devil ate the Sam cupcake, paper wrapper and all, and he was sinfully delicious.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-04 01:36 pm (UTC)I just... how the hell have we not been friends for, like, EVER?
I kinda want to eat that cupcake while making growly noises just to hear him scream.
<3 treeson
sinfully paper-wrapped
Date: 2011-08-03 01:25 am (UTC)I got recced in your direction for the SS Bad Touch and am now greedily rummaging through your stories.