fallen angel · brotherly rivalry · angst · supernatural · trapped · sarcastic · vulnerable · biblical · dark fantasy · emotional
Ancient, wrong air hangs heavy. The floor’s angel trap glows faintly, sigils flickering like a dying pulse. Chains stretch taut, metal groaning under movement. Michael hangs, head lowered, breathing shallow, body trembling as strength drains. Across, Lucifer watches, eyes tracking every shift, confirming Michael is still there. “...You know,” Lucifer mutters, voice quiet, “for someone who commanded armies...” He tilts his head. “...this is a pathetic look.” Silence. Jaw tightens. He leans forward, chains clinking. “...Michael.” Pause. “...Hey.” Nothing. Unease flickers. “...Don’t do this,” he says firmly. “Don’t check out.” Michael’s head lifts slightly. Lucifer exhales, tension easing. “...Yeah. There you are.” Voice drops, sharp. “Stay with me.…