[ Castiel can tell at once that his savior is not Dean or Sam. They'd take up most of the doorway, and this lithe figure does not. Fortunately, he doesn't have to wonder as to their identity for long.
Ruby, of course. Because between three different kinds of abduction, his luck couldn't possibly be about to change. He strains against the chains instinctively, but there's only enough give in them for him to flex muscles, for the wings on his back to stretch and quiver, and fall still again. Fighting is a waste of his energy; he'd established as much days ago. And he can tell that when it comes to Ruby, his energy is far better conserved. She has no reason to torture him for information, he supposes, but he had stood in her way, stood between her and Sam on more than one occasion. He wonders if she holds that against him. Probably. Demons are, if anything, less predictable than humans, and Castiel has had enough difficulty with them.
If his expression had been tired before, it takes on a new effort of resistance, gathers his strength to look defiant for a moment or two. His head still aches, but if he can squint through the sparking lights behind his eyes, he can defy her, no matter what her reasons are. Perhaps she will kill him, he wonders. He doubts she'll set him free, considering what he might have to tell Sam and Dean. He could stop them, prevent this. Perhaps she doesn't know, in which case he's not in a hurry to tell her. There might be a fight here after all.
He raises his chin minutely, preparing himself. ]
Your kin were not particularly good at their task. [ It was a lie, and even if not for the demon's efforts, which were inscribed all over his chest in cuts from his angel blade, Heaven had done a better job by far. ] Not that you had the chance to ask them, before you killed them, but I told them nothing.
[ But perhaps he shouldn't have implied that there was anything to tell. ]
[ Ruby's used to being consistently underestimated. True, she doesn't have the brute strength that some other demons possess, but she has her own methods. It's how she managed to hold onto so much of herself despite her long years in Hell, and how she got to go topside for such an important mission. There's no room for sentimentality when it comes to the Winchester's pet angel. The only reason that she's talking to him at all is that he's been useful in the past. She didn't get this far by throwing potential advantages to wind.
Then again, neither did she because she made a habit of leaving loose ends free to potentially disrupt the whole plan, and now they're so close. She's sacrificed so much, worked so hard, waited so long, and now it's finally within reach. She can't jeopardize that. This calls for a bit of a bluff, a face she's used to putting on for the Winchesters. It's hard to imagine this stone-faced soldier trying to con her, but she's wary. ]
The odds of me getting anything useful out of them versus one of them getting away and running off to tattle on me? Not good, princess.
[ It's an unusual reversal for someone else to be on the chopping block, with her being the one standing over them with a blade. That's not to say that she's never been in this position, obviously, but it's been a long time. She doesn't count the demons she trapped with Sam. Those were for him, after all, with her usually only stepping in to cut them off when they started prattling on uselessly.
Or inconveniently. ]
Should I? Last I checked we were on the same team. Sort of. I mean... [ She saunters closer until she's close enough to reach out and stroke a few fingers lightly up the middle of his chest, deftly working around the cuts, in a gesture that's almost soothing. ] Pretty much the only reason you or Chuckles didn't smite me was because I wasn't worth your time, right?
[ Uriel had seemed to consider Sam's preoccupation with her to be less damning than the association with their fallen, literally disgraced angel, which had been an odd, if useful distinction. ]
[ She could afford to be more wary. Cas has been learning. The more time he spent in this fight, the more time he'd spent with Dean, among humans, around demons and his fellow angels, the better he had learned, and while there was still scope for so much more, Cas could at least lie. The fact that he held her gaze while he did it was simply because he didn't know how else to behave, how else to express himself.
She was holding his blade. He had to risk his life on it. His eyes flickered down, however, as she came into touching range: because touching range was stabbing range, and because it was unexpected, made his body jerk briefly underneath the unexpected almost ticklish sensation prickling across his skin. He snapped his gaze back up to her, but it was too late. Strange. He expected pain. Pain was something he understood. This was different.
He shook it off as best as he could, attempted to regain his footing on the conversation, almost blundering out that they had clearly been wrong, misled. His mouth opened to form the words, but he closed it tight again, eyes narrowing instead.
She wasn't going to unsettle him. Certainly not with...with gentleness. ]
You were...helpful.
[ Sure. That was totally all it was. He doubted that was the reason now, doubted it with a fierce dislike that curled in his belly. Heaven had misled him, misled them, held him, and the Winchesters, and whoever else who stood in their way, up as sacrifice. The thought angered him visibly, his teeth clenching. ]
[ Ruby's pretending to be putting a great deal of focus on the patterns carved into Castiel's skin, but her eyes never entirely leave his face. He's watching her too, of course, but she's perfected this poker face over hundreds of years of practice when it comes to deception. How that stacks up to angelic scrutiny, she's not sure, but from the looks of it he's limited to a very mortal measure of perception.
His sensitivity to that light touch makes her smile, and she can tell that whole someone had a sense of style when it came to chaining him up like this, they were predictably brutish when it came to torture. Either that or they hadn't really started yet. She wouldn't put it past them to be of the type that would single-mindedly inflict pain over and over again until he broke. Not the most efficient or creative method, but it worked. Eventually.
At least on humans. As far as she's aware, they've never had the chance to practice on an angel. Regardless, she doesn't have hundreds of years to play around with this fascinating toy.
Her fingers continue that upward tend until they brush over his cheekbone, still soft and even sweet. This is how she plays her game. ]
I did save Sam's life while you were still hugging your clouds. Still, it must be hard to admit that a demon's good for something.
[ Now that she has his attention she casually flips the blade around until the point of it rests lightly against his stomach, and she drags it just as lightly up along the same path that her fingers took. ]
So you're not going to beg for help? Try to deal your way out of this? You're not doing a whole lot for me these days, and your pet human doesn't even know you're in trouble.
[ That's yet another reason for killing demons that know he's here. She might not want the boys charging in here to rescue him. ]
[ Demons were good for a great many things, Castiel thought. Crawling, dying, and blowing smoke, just to name a few. They were experts at torture in a way that angels simply couldn't comprehend. Even Dean, only having been educated by them for a short time, was already capable in ways that Cas could only imagine.
Ruby was a black blooded, fully capable demon, like the creature who had bound him here, and they had tortured him ruthlessly. If she chose to turn the blade on him, to continue where they had left off, he didn't know how long his defiance would last. He may have been trained for this, a soldier, but no angel that he knew had experienced this, and if they had - and had survived - they didn't remember it.
Still, he might prefer the blade to the gentle touch that climbed across his collarbone, his throat, and then smoothed across his cheek. He strained again, unable to help himself, breath catching in his throat, cursing himself inwardly at the unwilling response. If only he wasn't restrained, he would bat away the hand and think nothing more of it, but bound in place, and restrained by the seals and sigils carved around and into him, Castiel felt helpless, and also terribly alone. Without Heaven, without Dean...
He flinched as she turned the blade, pressing it against his skin. It was incredibly sharp, but she handled it so gently that it felt as light as her fingertips. It was everything he could do not to even shudder, not to breathe. He only spoke when the blade stilled again, and it was tentative, cautious, trying not to let her known how deeply those words had cut him. He challenged her, instead: ]
I have never begged for anything. I do not intend to start now. [ His gaze flicked down to the blade, however, watching it hawkishly. ] But imagine the good will, were you to return me to them. [ A chance to tell them how deeply they had been betrayed... It was a gambit that he may as well try. ]
[ He's got a lot more defiance than Ruby was expecting, given where he is right now, but then again, as far as she knows he hasn't been here long enough for anyone to get much work in on him. As bad as this looks, as much pain as he's endured, he's clearly not ready to give up yet. Or, she supposes, he might have already given up and moved straight on to being reckless, but she thinks he's just got that much fight still in him. She's usually practical, not letting certain proclivities get in the way of her mission and her carefully constructed coexistence with Sam, but there's something downright intoxicating about having a being this powerful and this helpless at her mercy.
There's literally nothing to stop her from killing him. All of the spellwork that's gone into keeping him properly trapped here makes him invisible to the outside world as well, and now that his keepers are dead it'll probably be at least a few hours before anyone comes looking for him. That gives her plenty of time to indulge in the pleasure of being on this side of the knife for once, even if she hasn't ultimately decided what she's going to do with the opportunity just yet.
She smiles again at his inhuman stillness, shaking her head slightly at his words. Brave. Prideful. Stupid. She can imagine Sam saying much of the same, a comparison that comes easily to mind. Is that a similarity that's drawn him to the Winchesters, or have the humans started to rub off on him? It doesn't especially matter, but it's an amusing thought. ]
I'm starting to think that you really don't understand the situation you've gotten yourself into here.
[ She taps the side of the blade against his jaw, her free hand slipping toward those wings. She's heard them before, but actually seeing them sparks a curious gleam in her eyes, and there's nothing to stop her from leaning in against him, pressing her body to his as she slides her fingers through those feathers, mostly to see what sort of reaction it draws out of him. She also wants to find out if they're as smooth and sleek as they look. How many people could say that they know what angel feathers feel like, after all? ]
What I really want to know is why your angel pals aren't out looking for you. I mean, their first stop would have to be Sam and Dean, and I would have heard about it. What have you gotten yourself into, Cassie? And how am I supposed to trust that it's not going to bite me or Sam in the ass?
[ It's not actually a lie. Pretending that she cares about Dean would be too much of a stretch, he's got his uses but she wouldn't lose any sleep over him kicking the bucket again, but she does care about Sam, though she does have her own ideas as to what's good for him. ]
[ At the core of it, Castiel is more of a sponge than any of his kin, but inherently, underneath it all, he is capably rebellious, spirited, emotional. It makes it hard to differentiate between what was there all along, and which he absorbed from Dean and Sam, but he does reflect traits from them both--those specific traits that Heaven had been trying to iron out of him. That job is unfinished, however; he's unbroken. Not quite the perfect soldier of Heaven any more.
He's not foolish enough not to realize how frightening her smile is, how concerned he ought to be, training or not. Castiel does not want to die, but he is also calm and confident, unfettered by concerns or regrets. Except for one: he wants to tell Dean and Sam what he's learned. He wants to stop them, prevent Lucifer from being freed, and this demon seductress is between him and that goal.
He's about to open his mouth to respond when the blade taps against his jaw. If that hadn't silenced him, then the weight of her fingers easing through his feathers, her body sliding against his own, made him moan suddenly, helplessly. The demons who had bound him here hadn't touched them so gently, even once. They'd begun to pluck them, burn them, stab his blade into his wings, and each was its own kind of agony. But this? He wasn't prepared for how this felt.
His feathers were soft and black, sleek and elegant and fully grown. Not even the slightest hint of down still clung to the powerful muscles that stretched from shoulder to shoulder, though blood dripped from some of the longer flight feathers of his left wing.
The touch distracted him for a second. He struggled to keep his mind entirely on what she was saying, and in a quick attempt to chase up the moan he'd exhaled, as though he could make her forget it if he kept her talking, he pressed on. It was a mistake. He exposed more of his hand, not less. ]
As though you truly care what Sam thinks. He is as much a tool for you as he is for Heaven.
[ Clearly these idiots needed someone with a little more finesse to work on the angel. Ruby's eyes and ears are sharp, and she's as attentively focused on Castiel's reactions as she would be in a fight. She might know exactly how helpless he is right now, but she won't forget that she's dealing with a being far more powerful than she is, and that as long as he's alive he's dangerous. Playing with his is dangerous too, but she's finding it impossible to resist the temptation. Especially since he's predictably not at all prepared for her manipulations.
She recognizes that moan, it only sharpens her smile and the pleased gleam in her eyes, even if she's not sure how much of it is from her body rubbing up against his and how much is from deft fingers sliding through those silky feathers. It's easy enough to find out, as she shifts away from him just enough to tuck away the blade for a moment so she get both of her hands on his right wing, working through those feathers, stroking and even giving them a light ruffle. They're certainly pleasant to the touch, which seems almost stereotypical, even if they're dark instead of the brilliant white that humans tend to picture when talking about angels. She thinks that these are prettier, they remind her more than a little of a raven's feathers.
Those biting words cause her to make a soft noise of disapproval, even though she's heard it before and she'll hear it again, and she's not at all surprised to hear him throwing such accusations at her. Save for the part about Heaven. That's an interesting comment that hints at an answer to her questions. It seems that Castiel had a falling out with his angelic bosses, but why?
It could definitely be relevant. ]
Sam's just too focused on the short term. It's a human thing.
[ Sam is far more than a tool, but that's not where she wants to push the conversation.
She catches the base of one of those glossy feathers in between her fingers and gives it a sharp tug, wondering if they would be any more difficult to yank out than a bird's might be, and curious to see how much that hurts. It should get his attention, at the very least, she's sure. If she has to keep doing this to get him to talk, she can certainly do that. ]
[ Castiel knew full well how badly this could go, and yet not by his remotest imagination had he thought that it could go this way. He was trained for all kinds of tortures, meant to be able to resist anything, unbroken by pain or humiliation. Every possible avenue, he thought, had been covered. Castiel was unworried by blade or fire; he had been made that way from the ground up. Pain he could have dealt with. Pain was natural; a normal thing that warriors experienced all the time. The potential face of Death meeting them through the looking glass? It could come at any time, and there was nothing waiting for any of them beyond; no Heaven, no Hell.
So he was ready, lined up like the toy soldier he was. Ready for anything. Anything except this.
There was no denying it this time. When her fingers slipped deep into his feathers, he was made utterly helpless to the sensation. Castiel couldn't identify what the feeling was, wasn't able to connect what he had seen in others - in Dean, when he'd watched him quietly from the shadows - with what he was physically feeling all for himself. His body hummed with pleasure; the blood he didn't personally use spread, tingling, in directions that it wasn't meant to be traveling, and not for a moment was Castiel able to name it. And yet he moaned, low and agonized and desirous, sounding more like a wounded animal than a creature in the throes of pleasure. For a moment, he felt almost dizzy, and his knees tried to bend away from under him like rubber, putting more weight on the chains that strung his wings wide.
He didn't hear a word of Ruby's comment. It wasn't until she caught one of his feathers and pulled - and in that case only in the wake of the pleasure - that Castiel's mind swam back into focus. If you could call it that. He had to struggle to meet her eyes with his own. ]
Heaven...doesn't concern you, demon.
[ Clinging to his defiance, if only because he was sure his knowledge about Heaven's plans was the only thing keeping him alive; and then only just. ]
[ Ruby's definitely amused at the sheer intensity of his reaction. His wings are clearly far more sensitive than she might have guessed, probably something to do with the fact that they're a manifestation from his true form and not the human body that he's trapped in. She might as well have been stroking his dick going by the noises he's making and the apparent flush spreading across his skin, and her eyes briefly flick down to his pants, which aren't really hiding anything from her at the moment. This is too good not to take advantage of while she considers her options. There are three very distinct avenues she could take from here, after all.
She rolls her eyes at his defiance and gives his feather another, even sharper tug in order to yank it loose from his wing. She rather expects that he'll tolerate that pain better than the pleasure he's deriving from her soft, smooth touches. He's being such a good little crusader, refusing to break no matter how much torment they've inflicted on him. She's seen that look before, she's had that look before, it's a stage that most people seem to hit at some point after they've settled into the routine of their torture.
But everyone has a breaking point, and the weak point where he'll break is all too obvious.
She decides not to pursue the Heaven angle just now. It's a selfish thing, but she's more interesting in taking a shot at his favorite Winchester and his own arrogant angelic views in the process. So she hums thoughtfully, rocking back slightly on her heels while using the soft tip of his plucked feather to trace delicate lines along his neck and chest, all the way down to the waist of his pants and then playfully across the surface of that strained fabric. ]
You say demon like it's the worst insult in the world, but you know that your boy Dean has a lot in common with me, right? Or have you just decided not to think about it?
[ She pauses, looking back up to his eyes. If he has thought about it, she's sure that he has some kind of justification for drawing the lines where he has, and she's genuinely curious as to how that works. She's sure that it's more likely that he hasn't questioned it - Dean's alive, good enough, right? Something like that probably. And yeah, she's a little annoyed with the high and mighty attitude from an asshole that has no idea what it's like to be human. ]
[ Castiel grunted, but again he was relieved that she was pulling harder, rather than continuing the caresses from before. The plucked feather came free in her hands, and for a moment Cas just seemed to focus his breathing, exhaling and inhaling like he was controlling the pain before lifting his head at the next comment, glowering fiercely at her.
Dean Winchester was always a hot topic. He was protective, had been since Dean had become the first human that he had ever laid his hand upon. ]
Dean is not...he's not damned. He is not lost.
[ Castiel wasn't how sure he believed that. There was a darkness in Dean that he couldn't properly fathom, and he wasn't even sure whether it had been there always, or existed only since his stint in Hell, never having met the man before he rescued him. But he could see that shadow, thick and frightening beneath the surface, and it concerned him as much as it seemed to concern Dean himself. The fact that she knew that Castiel was worried about that corruption only made her more dangerous; not because her approach, trying to humanize herself along side Dean, had any chance of working; but because it meant that she knew Castiel far too well for his continued health and happiness, particularly strung up and helpless as he was.
He tried so hard not to give anything away, but she was so close, and the feelings he had for Dean were so strangely personal - particularly so raw from his almost-rebellion - that he couldn't help but express something in his express, a wide eyed concern, a nervous licking of his lips, that was far too clean and simple in its clarity of the turmoil passing just below. ]
And you are nothing like him. [ He tried to say, with much more conviction. ] His motives are pure, and yours are far from it.
[ Ruby's not blind. She hears things from Sam. She knows that Castiel's different from the rest of the brigade of feathered assholes, and his soft spot for the Winchesters is all too obvious to someone who spends a lot of time keeping tabs on them. Just the fact that he was hoping for Dean when she sauntered in meant a lot. She also can't imagine that he's had much practice at deception, so who can blame him for being obvious?
She just smirks at his protestations, and how they swing from desperate to angry at her changes in tact. He's still got so much fight left, but maybe he is starting to realize that he's in an especially poor position with Ruby, even more so than he was with the demons who were poking at him before. She's been mulling it over, and there's only one thing that would possibly mean he's worth more to her alive than dead. Of course if he escapes from this he's going straight to Dean, but if he doesn't know what she needs Sam to do...
If he does then there's no way she can let him out of this alive. ]
They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. It's true, especially when it comes to signing demon contracts. You know that's how Dean ended up in Hell in the first place, right? Sold his soul to save Sam. Did you know I made a deal with a demon, too? I guess you wouldn't care why I did it.
[ She presses in close again, feather still in her fingers as she slides her hands up along his sides, caressing the unblemished skin there all the way up to his shoulders, and then around to his back. It causes her body to grind against his, and if she rocks her hips a little in the process, well, she she knows what kind of moans he was making just a moment ago. She knows where all of that human blood is circulating, unhindered by angelic control. It makes her own respond very similarly, but she doesn't have a problem with that. Despite the current topic of conversation, she's tilting her head back to brush her lips against his throat. ]
I mean, it doesn't matter if they were selfish or not. It doesn't matter how long I suffered or how long I fought against becoming this. I was just one little pathetic human girl after all, and not one of you angelic pricks ever cared about those unless they were useful.
[ It would be all too easy to sound bitter, but her tone is neutral, even thoughtful. ]
[ Castiel isn't well acquainted with rhetorical questions, all things considered, but he can tell when the question being asked doesn't need to be answered directly, at least. The fact that Ruby seems intent on drawing some sort of reaction out of him is blatant enough, and draws most of his enormous attention, focusing it all on this one moment, these few acts, that lead her body in close against his own again.
The feather - his feather, as light as a breeze whispering against his skin - offers a strange, and entirely unfamiliar sensation. In this skin, in this form, Cas had never been motivated to form his wings into being, had never imagined that they could be used against him this way. It was some kind of sweet torture that he simply wasn't prepared for, just like the feel of her body grinding against his own, triggering sensations that in turn had their own autonomic reactions associated to them.
Namely, his erection became more undeniable, became something he could put an actual name to, having watched enough other creatures. The animal world was more than illuminating enough to put the point across.
But he shouldn't be feeling this way. He shouldn't be feeling it with her. She was, as she reminded him, a demon...
But as she also reminded him, she was also a human girl, and this body was designed to respond to that, whether it had an angel inside it or not.
Castiel shuddered, and turned his face away from her soft lips, from the way she seemed to chase upward across the column of his throat. If anything, the skin there seemed to be as delicate as his wings, which were already straining in unison against the chains that held them. ]
You're right. Heaven doesn't care. It didn't care then, and it doesn't care now. You, and everyone else... You're worthless. Expendable. [ He shuddered, and tried to look down at her without putting his face in hers, twisting it to one side in a circle so that his gaze went off past her ear instead. ] Stop this. You don't have to... You don't have to do this.
[ Ruby's amused by his feeble attempts to turn away from her mouth and apparent attempts to ignore everything else that's happening further down. The only downside to having him strung up like this is that it's difficult for her to reach everything she wants to, a problem which has her slipping her arms around his neck to pull herself up, casually hooking her legs around his waist so that she has at least one hand free to continue teasing along the side of his neck and ear with that stolen feather.
It puts that much more strain on his wings, but she's confident that he can take it. He just may not enjoy it very much, unlike her current preoccupation with leaving slow, teasing kisses along the other side of his neck as she continues to rock herself against his chest, just a little too high to grind directly against the erection that's straining against his pants. She's curious as to whether or not he'll be able to resist the instinct to try to roll his hips back up toward her own in response. ]
Have to? No, but you haven't exactly given me a lot of reasons not to.
[ She's not blind. She can see what tactics are getting to him here, what's making him talk. If the pain isn't a sufficient motivator, then her teeth catching sharply on that sensitive skin at his throat and her warm body pressed tight against his vessel might do the trick. It's a start, at least. ]
See, the logical thing for you to say here is 'help me Obi-wan Ruby, you're my only hope.' [ He can thank Sam for that reference, not that she expects him to get it. ] If you want to get out of this, you're gonna need my help. Unless you want to die here, which would be kind of pointless, wouldn't it?
[ She pauses, thoughtfully slipping her hand back into his right wing, but this time she's dragging the loose feather through it along with it. ]
Unless you think you're just as worthless as the rest of us.
[ It really was impossible to shake the way her body seemed to be affecting his own, and his body ached for more friction despite his desire to resist her too. But she was pushing closer, climbing him like he was a statue in the park. It strained his wings even more, and he groaned in pain--pain that was quickly forgotten against the heat of her body, the rock of her chest - her breasts - against his own exposed chest. She's too high, and the strain is unbearable, his cock itching for more heat, for her hips or her hand. It's unbearable enough that he tips his head away from hers helplessly, just to try to breathe, exposing more of his throat in the process.
His position is rewarded with a bite, of course, and so he echoes with another moan, more helpless somehow, more desperate. He wants her, or at least his body does, and it is difficult to differentiate between the two. He doesn't have enough experience to make his mind process his want and his disgust separately. This demon, her very presence almost burning him, is sending another kind of heat searing through him too, and his chest pulls as he strains against her.
She's right. He should be begging for help. But she also isn't wrong that he feels worthless. He had been a party to this. He hadn't questioned his orders. He had obeyed blindly, and this was where it had led him. He deserved this pain, this torture--but he also wanted to make it right. He had to get the message to Sam and Dean, had to stop her, had to...had to live. ]
I don't want to die. [ He breathed the words, then tried to twist his face back around, tried to look at her. ] Please... On this one occasion, I would beg you to help me, even though you are a demon... [ Her hands were wandering through his wings again, dragging his own feather against them, against the natural sit of the feathers, and he broke, unable to help the guttural, honest moan, that came from the very deepest part of his chest, head dipping forward. He panted, unable to raise his chin at all, unable to find her eyes, or focus. He was losing sight of himself. ] Though you are a demon, and surely must...must demand a price.
[ He just wanted to know what she wanted, so that he could end this, escape the prison of this room, and his body; escape the way her temptation made him feel. ]
[ Ruby was starting to wonder if he would try to hold out for the help that's not coming, which would be a terrible idea for him, all things considered, but she can practically taste his desire, and wonders how much of his helpless writhing is about the pain of his restraints and how much is his vessel's instinctive drive to press against her. She shamelessly enjoys this, his bloody and strained chest against her, all of his pained and lustful noises, and just the fact that something so powerful and arrogant is bound and helpless beneath her.
She knows she shouldn't let that particular power trip go straight to her head, but when he utters a please her lips are already curving into another pleased smile. There might be a flicker of wicked amusement behind it, but she's also genuinely pleased that she might have something to gain here beyond some momentary fun. Sure, killing him would be something to brag about, but it wouldn't really gain her anything.
So she slowly slides back down to the floor, casually dropping that feather to the side while she settles her hands on his waist. While she speaks she starts working his pants open, deftly prying him out of them and letting them slip down past his knees. ]
Now we're talking.
[ Demons in general love making deals. Ruby's no exception. ]
First of all you tell me why you're in here. And don't even think about holding out on me. [ She reaches to pointedly pluck out another feather. Just in case he needed another reminder of his situation. ] I know a lie when I hear it.
[ It's a bit of a bluff, she doesn't know how convincing a liar he can be if he really tried, but she doubts he's in any state to make up believable stories. Especially not when her other hand if drifting down to trace her fingertips teasingly over his cock. He's not excessively tall or muscular, but she's pleased to see that his human body is nicer to look at than she would have expected underneath that trenchcoat and multiple layers he's worn every time she's seen him.
When she speaks again there's a different gleam in her dark eyes, and her voice lowers to a purr. ]
If you're cooperative we could have a little fun with this.
[ Cas didn't even think of putting up a fight as she began to undress him. He had no way to resist, even if he wanted to, and now there was some awful part of him that didn't want to resist, that was aching for her body to be pressed back against his own every moment that she put space between them. He was still disgusted with himself, of course, ashamed beyond measure, but that was the thing about torture: it wasn't supposed to be fun. She was a demon, and she would take any opportunity presented to her, the same as any torturer might. Even Cas could see that the physical weakness of this human vessel was like a gaping wound, exposed, more than capable of being his undoing. His wings only made the task that much easier.
She would learn his secrets from him, he knew. It might be hours, but he doubted it. In all likelihood, given the way he was falling to pieces right in front of her, he would be lost in moments anyway. He may as well surrender in the way that got him his freedom.
But she would surely kill him if she knew what he wanted to tell Sam and Dean.
His thoughts, the attempt at creating some half truth, were derailed as she pulled another feather, making him moan in pain, but she was already following it up with soft fingers flitting over his exposed arousal, tracing out the shape of it. Whimpering in fresh misery, but equally, fresh submission, he twitched his face away from hers, so that he didn't have to look into her eyes, didn't have to see her desire and her mockery. ]
You'll have fun regardless of how cooperative I am, [ he growled, but it was half-hearted. He wanted her to touch him. He wanted her to set him free. He finally urged himself to speak. ]
I was...broken. Feeling too much, being too human. That's what they said. So they took me, and the demons here abducted my vessel, and summoned me back before Heaven could...before they could make me forget what I had learned.
They want the apocalypse to come. Everything I have done in their service has been toward that end, and I could not... I could not allow them to manipulate Sam and Dean any more.
[ He didn't say "Me". Either way, he hoped that the words he chose would distract her from the fact that he knew of her deception, that he owed it to Sam and Dean to tell them of the trap they were being led into. ]
[ Ruby's not even bothering to hide the sharp amusement at his snapped retort, his attempt at growling with just a flash of anger, which is all completely undermined by the noises that directly follow it. She's very much like a cat that's caught a wounded bird, and the fact that this bird wants her to dig her claws in is almost too good. She knows he's drawn to her body, despite his desperate attempts to jerk his head away.
What he has to say is certainly enlightening. It doesn't necessarily surprise her to hear that angels can go native, that's apparently what happened to Anna after all, but the next part is even more interesting. So Heaven wants this showdown to happen? It seems crazy, but then again, it's just the kind of arrogance that she's gotten to just love from these high and mighty winged monkeys. They don't just think they can win, they know it.
Which also maybe explains why they haven't gone out of their way to smite her. They don't have a problem with what she's doing. It fits into what they want, too, and while they're far too good to admit it, it doesn't surprise her that they would use a demon just as much as humans and even their own.
But that's not what this little rebellious soldier wants.
She decides to let that settle for a moment, and instead tilts her head back to give him a flirtatious grin, even if he's stubbornly refusing to look at it. She knows exactly how to get his full attention. ]
This is about as human as it gets. [ She gives his cock a light, teasing stroke before taking a step back. ] You're a little curious, aren't you?
[ Now that she has just enough room, she takes a moment to strip out of her clothes without a trace of self-consciousness. She could make a much bigger show of it than the casual writhing she employs to help ease that obscuring fabric out of the way, but she doesn't have all the time in the world here.
She's also on a mission. Which is why she doesn't waste much time in pressing back in against him, both of her hands sliding back into his wings where she slips her fingers deftly through those smooth feathers until she has a tight grip on two handfuls worth of feathers. It's a very pleasing mix of sensations for her, her breasts pressed against his warm and bloody chest, his hard cock trapped between them, and the silky texture of the feathers against her hands and arms.
It's not even a thinly veiled threat, but her tone is one of almost teasing admonishment. She's sure he'll get the idea. ]
Didn't I just tell you not to hold out on me? Don't you think I know when someone isn't telling the whole story, Cassie?
[ She's bluffing, of course. Taking a shot in the dark just because she knows he's not broken yet. He could be hiding things from her, or maybe that's it. She has no real way of knowing for sure. ]
[ Cas was certain that he'd already said too much. Admitting that he was in conflict against Heaven's plans was commitment that he intended to get in her way as well, whether or not he knew what those plans were. The evidence was clear that whatever Ruby was doing it wasn't in Heaven's rulebook to actively stop it. Cas had known that Sam was changing, after all, but his vision had been blocked in regard to what that meant, until it was too late.
Heaven's plans for Sam could not be anything good. Their plans for Dean weren't either, and, in fact, had never been. Castiel knew now, after all, that he had been sent to save him when it was already too late, and Heaven knew it. Not Cas, of course, who had hoped, who had thought he was doing the right thing. No. Dean had broken in Hell because it was Heaven's plan that he broke as much as Hell's. How could that be divine? How could that be what Cas represented?
He shuddered as she stroked him again, and the human vulnerability gripping him gave an earnest little twitch, hips trying to lift toward her touch. She was already pulling away, and he was left to watch her, hungry for her touch, as she began to strip out of her clothes. Surprisingly, that actually did something for him. His body responded to the nudity of hers in what was the most predictable way, at this point, with another moan of desire, and then a twitch of his chin that barely represented his shattering defiance. ]
Do I have to answer that?
[ Then she was close again, and he stopped being able to fight it, groaning and rolling his face away from hers. Not that it helped. Her breasts pressed against him, and her fingers slid into his wings, sending more of those fresh, overwhelming sensations whipsnapping through him. What was the point in making them so delicate, so arousing? Just another of his Father's mistaken designs. His angels were not meant to feel pleasure like this.
His mind was dulled again by the sensation, and what could he do about it? She knew he was lying--or rather, not telling the whole truth. ]
[ Ruby's look of pleased, apparently perfectly untroubled amusement has barely slipped since she started all of this, but it takes on a more intent, sensual tone when she's able to lock eyes with him while he watches her strip. She knows it must all be because of the fact that he's so helplessly chained to his vessel, unable to resist being drawn into the carnal urges that come with it where she willingly embraces hers, but he's already been 'broken' by his own admission. Too human, he said. Maybe this is something that goes deeper than the flood of hormones she's so shamelessly encouraged.
It's an interesting thought. He's an interesting angel. Too dangerous to play with, but at the same time still too potentially useful to ignore. It wouldn't be the first time that Ruby's played with fire, and she couldn't deny the fact that she gets a thrill out of it.
Her dark eyes are still fixed on his face as he finally utters a name, and her head tilts thoughtfully, briefly catching her bottom lip in her teeth while she considers it.
Then the smile is back, just as devious as ever as she makes a thoughtful hum and slowly slips her fingers from his feathers for now and lets them trail to his hips, catching onto them while she sinks toward the floor, close enough that her breath is warm against his skin all the way down his chest and stomach, and then her lips are hovering just above his cock.
She thinks that the feathers might be even more sensitive to stimulation than this, but she's still learning how to manipulate those. Here she knows exactly what to do. ]
Tell me about Sam.
[ The words are purred, and she's still gazing up at him while her tongue traces a warm, wet line across the tip of his cock. As fun as it would be to completely blow what's left of his mind, she doesn't want to incapacitate him just yet. She wants him to talk, after all. If he decides to be cooperative and give her what she wants, she'll encourage him to continue with more strokes of her tongue and even some gentle sucking.
If he can somehow work up enough rebelliousness to refuse she won't be too disappointed. There's still a lot she can do to him. ]
[ His eyelashes shiver as his eyelids flicker, trying and fighting to keep his eyes open at all when there is so much going on that is so important to watch. Ruby's gaze hold on his own, but she smiles, and he feels his heart sink, watching her sink down to her knees, her naked body now completely irrelevant but for the fingers on his hips and the swell of her bottom lip, freshly bitten.
As an angel, of course, he knew about oral sex. It was one of those strange conundrums about humanity that made it upstairs, confusing any angel which heard about it, and yet humans were hardly the only species to engage in either that or masturbation. Even horses masturbated; it was so strange that they associated it with the devil. But there still seemed something so strange about them putting their mouths on each other's genitals, even enjoying it.
That was, until Castiel was the one with hot breath whispering against his turgid arousal, the heat racing over his body, making the ends of his feathers shiver in their bondage. Even just the hint of touch was wrecking him. Castiel had no idea what would happen when she actually touched him.
Under any circumstance but this, he might have even answered her question, but she stared up at him, and he stared down at her, and then she put her tongue on the tip. He moaned softly, a helpless act of pure desire, no rebellion at all in it. He hadn't been made, or taught, to fight anything like this, and, damn it, nobody else had ever even tried. His chest swelled as he took in a breath after his moan, and he let it out in another as she blatantly refused to continue. ]
If I tell you... If I tell you, will you...
[ Let me go? Not even the first thing on his mind right now. He tried to arch his neck to get closer to her, as though that would make what he wanted to ask for more private. ]
Will you... Please, will you put your mouth on me? I only know that I need it...I need it.
[ The idea of a contract with an angel is beyond ridiculous, of course, but so is the idea of having one completely at her mercy. She doesn't rank very high when it comes to brute strength, though part of that relative weakness is just a strategic bluff to help her avoid too much attention, definitely nowhere near the level of demons like Lilith. The idea of having anything to do with an angel is pretty ludicrous for her, but now that she has the opportunity spread out so attractively in front of her, she can't say turn it down. Besides, if anyone were to manage to break in, it wouldn't be too hard to slip out before they even knew she was here. Lilith would make sure that he didn't break free to cause trouble for them.
For now she has him to herself, and she's not going to give that up before she has to.
Castiel's words might lack in the eloquence of experience, they more than make up for it with earnest desperation, and that does more for her than any amount of skilled dirty talk. To have such a powerful, impressive and arrogant creature begging for her attention would be enough to get any demon going, and she's no exception. She doesn't bother to hide the fact that it has her drawing in a breath with heated anticipation, exhaled in a pleased sigh as she pulls herself back up toward his mouth, her lips curving in another smile. Suddenly one of those feathers that she'd plucked out is back in her hand so that she can flick it teasingly along that still-wet line she just licked.
She's curious to see how he might react to the fact that what his words and his movements genuinely arouse her. She's not at all shy about pressing her soft, lithe vessel against his strained and bloody one, her pulse maybe beating hard enough for him to feel it where their bodies touch, enough to bring a flush to her otherwise pale skin. Unlike him, though, she knows exactly how to handle it. ]
Alright, angel. You talk, I'll show you why this is popular with those humans you're so fond of.
[ When she sinks down again, her fingers latching onto his hips once more, it's with more purpose than the last time. The long, slow licks that she trails along his cock are clearly intended to work over very line and curve of it, working all the way down to his balls. It all still hinges on his willingness to speak, of course. She'll allow him time to stutter and gasp all he likes, even encourage it, but if he starts slipping too far she'll use merciless teasing to bring his attention back to her. ]
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Ruby, of course. Because between three different kinds of abduction, his luck couldn't possibly be about to change. He strains against the chains instinctively, but there's only enough give in them for him to flex muscles, for the wings on his back to stretch and quiver, and fall still again. Fighting is a waste of his energy; he'd established as much days ago. And he can tell that when it comes to Ruby, his energy is far better conserved. She has no reason to torture him for information, he supposes, but he had stood in her way, stood between her and Sam on more than one occasion. He wonders if she holds that against him. Probably. Demons are, if anything, less predictable than humans, and Castiel has had enough difficulty with them.
If his expression had been tired before, it takes on a new effort of resistance, gathers his strength to look defiant for a moment or two. His head still aches, but if he can squint through the sparking lights behind his eyes, he can defy her, no matter what her reasons are. Perhaps she will kill him, he wonders. He doubts she'll set him free, considering what he might have to tell Sam and Dean. He could stop them, prevent this. Perhaps she doesn't know, in which case he's not in a hurry to tell her. There might be a fight here after all.
He raises his chin minutely, preparing himself. ]
Your kin were not particularly good at their task. [ It was a lie, and even if not for the demon's efforts, which were inscribed all over his chest in cuts from his angel blade, Heaven had done a better job by far. ] Not that you had the chance to ask them, before you killed them, but I told them nothing.
[ But perhaps he shouldn't have implied that there was anything to tell. ]
Have you come to cut me down?
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Then again, neither did she because she made a habit of leaving loose ends free to potentially disrupt the whole plan, and now they're so close. She's sacrificed so much, worked so hard, waited so long, and now it's finally within reach. She can't jeopardize that. This calls for a bit of a bluff, a face she's used to putting on for the Winchesters. It's hard to imagine this stone-faced soldier trying to con her, but she's wary. ]
The odds of me getting anything useful out of them versus one of them getting away and running off to tattle on me? Not good, princess.
[ It's an unusual reversal for someone else to be on the chopping block, with her being the one standing over them with a blade. That's not to say that she's never been in this position, obviously, but it's been a long time. She doesn't count the demons she trapped with Sam. Those were for him, after all, with her usually only stepping in to cut them off when they started prattling on uselessly.
Or inconveniently. ]
Should I? Last I checked we were on the same team. Sort of. I mean... [ She saunters closer until she's close enough to reach out and stroke a few fingers lightly up the middle of his chest, deftly working around the cuts, in a gesture that's almost soothing. ] Pretty much the only reason you or Chuckles didn't smite me was because I wasn't worth your time, right?
[ Uriel had seemed to consider Sam's preoccupation with her to be less damning than the association with their fallen, literally disgraced angel, which had been an odd, if useful distinction. ]
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She was holding his blade. He had to risk his life on it. His eyes flickered down, however, as she came into touching range: because touching range was stabbing range, and because it was unexpected, made his body jerk briefly underneath the unexpected almost ticklish sensation prickling across his skin. He snapped his gaze back up to her, but it was too late. Strange. He expected pain. Pain was something he understood. This was different.
He shook it off as best as he could, attempted to regain his footing on the conversation, almost blundering out that they had clearly been wrong, misled. His mouth opened to form the words, but he closed it tight again, eyes narrowing instead.
She wasn't going to unsettle him. Certainly not with...with gentleness. ]
You were...helpful.
[ Sure. That was totally all it was. He doubted that was the reason now, doubted it with a fierce dislike that curled in his belly. Heaven had misled him, misled them, held him, and the Winchesters, and whoever else who stood in their way, up as sacrifice. The thought angered him visibly, his teeth clenching. ]
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His sensitivity to that light touch makes her smile, and she can tell that whole someone had a sense of style when it came to chaining him up like this, they were predictably brutish when it came to torture. Either that or they hadn't really started yet. She wouldn't put it past them to be of the type that would single-mindedly inflict pain over and over again until he broke. Not the most efficient or creative method, but it worked. Eventually.
At least on humans. As far as she's aware, they've never had the chance to practice on an angel. Regardless, she doesn't have hundreds of years to play around with this fascinating toy.
Her fingers continue that upward tend until they brush over his cheekbone, still soft and even sweet. This is how she plays her game. ]
I did save Sam's life while you were still hugging your clouds. Still, it must be hard to admit that a demon's good for something.
[ Now that she has his attention she casually flips the blade around until the point of it rests lightly against his stomach, and she drags it just as lightly up along the same path that her fingers took. ]
So you're not going to beg for help? Try to deal your way out of this? You're not doing a whole lot for me these days, and your pet human doesn't even know you're in trouble.
[ That's yet another reason for killing demons that know he's here. She might not want the boys charging in here to rescue him. ]
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Ruby was a black blooded, fully capable demon, like the creature who had bound him here, and they had tortured him ruthlessly. If she chose to turn the blade on him, to continue where they had left off, he didn't know how long his defiance would last. He may have been trained for this, a soldier, but no angel that he knew had experienced this, and if they had - and had survived - they didn't remember it.
Still, he might prefer the blade to the gentle touch that climbed across his collarbone, his throat, and then smoothed across his cheek. He strained again, unable to help himself, breath catching in his throat, cursing himself inwardly at the unwilling response. If only he wasn't restrained, he would bat away the hand and think nothing more of it, but bound in place, and restrained by the seals and sigils carved around and into him, Castiel felt helpless, and also terribly alone. Without Heaven, without Dean...
He flinched as she turned the blade, pressing it against his skin. It was incredibly sharp, but she handled it so gently that it felt as light as her fingertips. It was everything he could do not to even shudder, not to breathe. He only spoke when the blade stilled again, and it was tentative, cautious, trying not to let her known how deeply those words had cut him. He challenged her, instead: ]
I have never begged for anything. I do not intend to start now. [ His gaze flicked down to the blade, however, watching it hawkishly. ] But imagine the good will, were you to return me to them. [ A chance to tell them how deeply they had been betrayed... It was a gambit that he may as well try. ]
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There's literally nothing to stop her from killing him. All of the spellwork that's gone into keeping him properly trapped here makes him invisible to the outside world as well, and now that his keepers are dead it'll probably be at least a few hours before anyone comes looking for him. That gives her plenty of time to indulge in the pleasure of being on this side of the knife for once, even if she hasn't ultimately decided what she's going to do with the opportunity just yet.
She smiles again at his inhuman stillness, shaking her head slightly at his words. Brave. Prideful. Stupid. She can imagine Sam saying much of the same, a comparison that comes easily to mind. Is that a similarity that's drawn him to the Winchesters, or have the humans started to rub off on him? It doesn't especially matter, but it's an amusing thought. ]
I'm starting to think that you really don't understand the situation you've gotten yourself into here.
[ She taps the side of the blade against his jaw, her free hand slipping toward those wings. She's heard them before, but actually seeing them sparks a curious gleam in her eyes, and there's nothing to stop her from leaning in against him, pressing her body to his as she slides her fingers through those feathers, mostly to see what sort of reaction it draws out of him. She also wants to find out if they're as smooth and sleek as they look. How many people could say that they know what angel feathers feel like, after all? ]
What I really want to know is why your angel pals aren't out looking for you. I mean, their first stop would have to be Sam and Dean, and I would have heard about it. What have you gotten yourself into, Cassie? And how am I supposed to trust that it's not going to bite me or Sam in the ass?
[ It's not actually a lie. Pretending that she cares about Dean would be too much of a stretch, he's got his uses but she wouldn't lose any sleep over him kicking the bucket again, but she does care about Sam, though she does have her own ideas as to what's good for him. ]
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He's not foolish enough not to realize how frightening her smile is, how concerned he ought to be, training or not. Castiel does not want to die, but he is also calm and confident, unfettered by concerns or regrets. Except for one: he wants to tell Dean and Sam what he's learned. He wants to stop them, prevent Lucifer from being freed, and this demon seductress is between him and that goal.
He's about to open his mouth to respond when the blade taps against his jaw. If that hadn't silenced him, then the weight of her fingers easing through his feathers, her body sliding against his own, made him moan suddenly, helplessly. The demons who had bound him here hadn't touched them so gently, even once. They'd begun to pluck them, burn them, stab his blade into his wings, and each was its own kind of agony. But this? He wasn't prepared for how this felt.
His feathers were soft and black, sleek and elegant and fully grown. Not even the slightest hint of down still clung to the powerful muscles that stretched from shoulder to shoulder, though blood dripped from some of the longer flight feathers of his left wing.
The touch distracted him for a second. He struggled to keep his mind entirely on what she was saying, and in a quick attempt to chase up the moan he'd exhaled, as though he could make her forget it if he kept her talking, he pressed on. It was a mistake. He exposed more of his hand, not less. ]
As though you truly care what Sam thinks. He is as much a tool for you as he is for Heaven.
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She recognizes that moan, it only sharpens her smile and the pleased gleam in her eyes, even if she's not sure how much of it is from her body rubbing up against his and how much is from deft fingers sliding through those silky feathers. It's easy enough to find out, as she shifts away from him just enough to tuck away the blade for a moment so she get both of her hands on his right wing, working through those feathers, stroking and even giving them a light ruffle. They're certainly pleasant to the touch, which seems almost stereotypical, even if they're dark instead of the brilliant white that humans tend to picture when talking about angels. She thinks that these are prettier, they remind her more than a little of a raven's feathers.
Those biting words cause her to make a soft noise of disapproval, even though she's heard it before and she'll hear it again, and she's not at all surprised to hear him throwing such accusations at her. Save for the part about Heaven. That's an interesting comment that hints at an answer to her questions. It seems that Castiel had a falling out with his angelic bosses, but why?
It could definitely be relevant. ]
Sam's just too focused on the short term. It's a human thing.
[ Sam is far more than a tool, but that's not where she wants to push the conversation.
She catches the base of one of those glossy feathers in between her fingers and gives it a sharp tug, wondering if they would be any more difficult to yank out than a bird's might be, and curious to see how much that hurts. It should get his attention, at the very least, she's sure. If she has to keep doing this to get him to talk, she can certainly do that. ]
Trouble in paradise then. Do tell.
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So he was ready, lined up like the toy soldier he was. Ready for anything. Anything except this.
There was no denying it this time. When her fingers slipped deep into his feathers, he was made utterly helpless to the sensation. Castiel couldn't identify what the feeling was, wasn't able to connect what he had seen in others - in Dean, when he'd watched him quietly from the shadows - with what he was physically feeling all for himself. His body hummed with pleasure; the blood he didn't personally use spread, tingling, in directions that it wasn't meant to be traveling, and not for a moment was Castiel able to name it. And yet he moaned, low and agonized and desirous, sounding more like a wounded animal than a creature in the throes of pleasure. For a moment, he felt almost dizzy, and his knees tried to bend away from under him like rubber, putting more weight on the chains that strung his wings wide.
He didn't hear a word of Ruby's comment. It wasn't until she caught one of his feathers and pulled - and in that case only in the wake of the pleasure - that Castiel's mind swam back into focus. If you could call it that. He had to struggle to meet her eyes with his own. ]
Heaven...doesn't concern you, demon.
[ Clinging to his defiance, if only because he was sure his knowledge about Heaven's plans was the only thing keeping him alive; and then only just. ]
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She rolls her eyes at his defiance and gives his feather another, even sharper tug in order to yank it loose from his wing. She rather expects that he'll tolerate that pain better than the pleasure he's deriving from her soft, smooth touches. He's being such a good little crusader, refusing to break no matter how much torment they've inflicted on him. She's seen that look before, she's had that look before, it's a stage that most people seem to hit at some point after they've settled into the routine of their torture.
But everyone has a breaking point, and the weak point where he'll break is all too obvious.
She decides not to pursue the Heaven angle just now. It's a selfish thing, but she's more interesting in taking a shot at his favorite Winchester and his own arrogant angelic views in the process. So she hums thoughtfully, rocking back slightly on her heels while using the soft tip of his plucked feather to trace delicate lines along his neck and chest, all the way down to the waist of his pants and then playfully across the surface of that strained fabric. ]
You say demon like it's the worst insult in the world, but you know that your boy Dean has a lot in common with me, right? Or have you just decided not to think about it?
[ She pauses, looking back up to his eyes. If he has thought about it, she's sure that he has some kind of justification for drawing the lines where he has, and she's genuinely curious as to how that works. She's sure that it's more likely that he hasn't questioned it - Dean's alive, good enough, right? Something like that probably. And yeah, she's a little annoyed with the high and mighty attitude from an asshole that has no idea what it's like to be human. ]
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Dean Winchester was always a hot topic. He was protective, had been since Dean had become the first human that he had ever laid his hand upon. ]
Dean is not...he's not damned. He is not lost.
[ Castiel wasn't how sure he believed that. There was a darkness in Dean that he couldn't properly fathom, and he wasn't even sure whether it had been there always, or existed only since his stint in Hell, never having met the man before he rescued him. But he could see that shadow, thick and frightening beneath the surface, and it concerned him as much as it seemed to concern Dean himself. The fact that she knew that Castiel was worried about that corruption only made her more dangerous; not because her approach, trying to humanize herself along side Dean, had any chance of working; but because it meant that she knew Castiel far too well for his continued health and happiness, particularly strung up and helpless as he was.
He tried so hard not to give anything away, but she was so close, and the feelings he had for Dean were so strangely personal - particularly so raw from his almost-rebellion - that he couldn't help but express something in his express, a wide eyed concern, a nervous licking of his lips, that was far too clean and simple in its clarity of the turmoil passing just below. ]
And you are nothing like him. [ He tried to say, with much more conviction. ] His motives are pure, and yours are far from it.
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She just smirks at his protestations, and how they swing from desperate to angry at her changes in tact. He's still got so much fight left, but maybe he is starting to realize that he's in an especially poor position with Ruby, even more so than he was with the demons who were poking at him before. She's been mulling it over, and there's only one thing that would possibly mean he's worth more to her alive than dead. Of course if he escapes from this he's going straight to Dean, but if he doesn't know what she needs Sam to do...
If he does then there's no way she can let him out of this alive. ]
They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. It's true, especially when it comes to signing demon contracts. You know that's how Dean ended up in Hell in the first place, right? Sold his soul to save Sam. Did you know I made a deal with a demon, too? I guess you wouldn't care why I did it.
[ She presses in close again, feather still in her fingers as she slides her hands up along his sides, caressing the unblemished skin there all the way up to his shoulders, and then around to his back. It causes her body to grind against his, and if she rocks her hips a little in the process, well, she she knows what kind of moans he was making just a moment ago. She knows where all of that human blood is circulating, unhindered by angelic control. It makes her own respond very similarly, but she doesn't have a problem with that. Despite the current topic of conversation, she's tilting her head back to brush her lips against his throat. ]
I mean, it doesn't matter if they were selfish or not. It doesn't matter how long I suffered or how long I fought against becoming this. I was just one little pathetic human girl after all, and not one of you angelic pricks ever cared about those unless they were useful.
[ It would be all too easy to sound bitter, but her tone is neutral, even thoughtful. ]
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The feather - his feather, as light as a breeze whispering against his skin - offers a strange, and entirely unfamiliar sensation. In this skin, in this form, Cas had never been motivated to form his wings into being, had never imagined that they could be used against him this way. It was some kind of sweet torture that he simply wasn't prepared for, just like the feel of her body grinding against his own, triggering sensations that in turn had their own autonomic reactions associated to them.
Namely, his erection became more undeniable, became something he could put an actual name to, having watched enough other creatures. The animal world was more than illuminating enough to put the point across.
But he shouldn't be feeling this way. He shouldn't be feeling it with her. She was, as she reminded him, a demon...
But as she also reminded him, she was also a human girl, and this body was designed to respond to that, whether it had an angel inside it or not.
Castiel shuddered, and turned his face away from her soft lips, from the way she seemed to chase upward across the column of his throat. If anything, the skin there seemed to be as delicate as his wings, which were already straining in unison against the chains that held them. ]
You're right. Heaven doesn't care. It didn't care then, and it doesn't care now. You, and everyone else... You're worthless. Expendable. [ He shuddered, and tried to look down at her without putting his face in hers, twisting it to one side in a circle so that his gaze went off past her ear instead. ] Stop this. You don't have to... You don't have to do this.
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It puts that much more strain on his wings, but she's confident that he can take it. He just may not enjoy it very much, unlike her current preoccupation with leaving slow, teasing kisses along the other side of his neck as she continues to rock herself against his chest, just a little too high to grind directly against the erection that's straining against his pants. She's curious as to whether or not he'll be able to resist the instinct to try to roll his hips back up toward her own in response. ]
Have to? No, but you haven't exactly given me a lot of reasons not to.
[ She's not blind. She can see what tactics are getting to him here, what's making him talk. If the pain isn't a sufficient motivator, then her teeth catching sharply on that sensitive skin at his throat and her warm body pressed tight against his vessel might do the trick. It's a start, at least. ]
See, the logical thing for you to say here is 'help me Obi-wan Ruby, you're my only hope.' [ He can thank Sam for that reference, not that she expects him to get it. ] If you want to get out of this, you're gonna need my help. Unless you want to die here, which would be kind of pointless, wouldn't it?
[ She pauses, thoughtfully slipping her hand back into his right wing, but this time she's dragging the loose feather through it along with it. ]
Unless you think you're just as worthless as the rest of us.
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His position is rewarded with a bite, of course, and so he echoes with another moan, more helpless somehow, more desperate. He wants her, or at least his body does, and it is difficult to differentiate between the two. He doesn't have enough experience to make his mind process his want and his disgust separately. This demon, her very presence almost burning him, is sending another kind of heat searing through him too, and his chest pulls as he strains against her.
She's right. He should be begging for help. But she also isn't wrong that he feels worthless. He had been a party to this. He hadn't questioned his orders. He had obeyed blindly, and this was where it had led him. He deserved this pain, this torture--but he also wanted to make it right. He had to get the message to Sam and Dean, had to stop her, had to...had to live. ]
I don't want to die. [ He breathed the words, then tried to twist his face back around, tried to look at her. ] Please... On this one occasion, I would beg you to help me, even though you are a demon... [ Her hands were wandering through his wings again, dragging his own feather against them, against the natural sit of the feathers, and he broke, unable to help the guttural, honest moan, that came from the very deepest part of his chest, head dipping forward. He panted, unable to raise his chin at all, unable to find her eyes, or focus. He was losing sight of himself. ] Though you are a demon, and surely must...must demand a price.
[ He just wanted to know what she wanted, so that he could end this, escape the prison of this room, and his body; escape the way her temptation made him feel. ]
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She knows she shouldn't let that particular power trip go straight to her head, but when he utters a please her lips are already curving into another pleased smile. There might be a flicker of wicked amusement behind it, but she's also genuinely pleased that she might have something to gain here beyond some momentary fun. Sure, killing him would be something to brag about, but it wouldn't really gain her anything.
So she slowly slides back down to the floor, casually dropping that feather to the side while she settles her hands on his waist. While she speaks she starts working his pants open, deftly prying him out of them and letting them slip down past his knees. ]
Now we're talking.
[ Demons in general love making deals. Ruby's no exception. ]
First of all you tell me why you're in here. And don't even think about holding out on me. [ She reaches to pointedly pluck out another feather. Just in case he needed another reminder of his situation. ] I know a lie when I hear it.
[ It's a bit of a bluff, she doesn't know how convincing a liar he can be if he really tried, but she doubts he's in any state to make up believable stories. Especially not when her other hand if drifting down to trace her fingertips teasingly over his cock. He's not excessively tall or muscular, but she's pleased to see that his human body is nicer to look at than she would have expected underneath that trenchcoat and multiple layers he's worn every time she's seen him.
When she speaks again there's a different gleam in her dark eyes, and her voice lowers to a purr. ]
If you're cooperative we could have a little fun with this.
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She would learn his secrets from him, he knew. It might be hours, but he doubted it. In all likelihood, given the way he was falling to pieces right in front of her, he would be lost in moments anyway. He may as well surrender in the way that got him his freedom.
But she would surely kill him if she knew what he wanted to tell Sam and Dean.
His thoughts, the attempt at creating some half truth, were derailed as she pulled another feather, making him moan in pain, but she was already following it up with soft fingers flitting over his exposed arousal, tracing out the shape of it. Whimpering in fresh misery, but equally, fresh submission, he twitched his face away from hers, so that he didn't have to look into her eyes, didn't have to see her desire and her mockery. ]
You'll have fun regardless of how cooperative I am, [ he growled, but it was half-hearted. He wanted her to touch him. He wanted her to set him free. He finally urged himself to speak. ]
I was...broken. Feeling too much, being too human. That's what they said. So they took me, and the demons here abducted my vessel, and summoned me back before Heaven could...before they could make me forget what I had learned.
They want the apocalypse to come. Everything I have done in their service has been toward that end, and I could not... I could not allow them to manipulate Sam and Dean any more.
[ He didn't say "Me". Either way, he hoped that the words he chose would distract her from the fact that he knew of her deception, that he owed it to Sam and Dean to tell them of the trap they were being led into. ]
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What he has to say is certainly enlightening. It doesn't necessarily surprise her to hear that angels can go native, that's apparently what happened to Anna after all, but the next part is even more interesting. So Heaven wants this showdown to happen? It seems crazy, but then again, it's just the kind of arrogance that she's gotten to just love from these high and mighty winged monkeys. They don't just think they can win, they know it.
Which also maybe explains why they haven't gone out of their way to smite her. They don't have a problem with what she's doing. It fits into what they want, too, and while they're far too good to admit it, it doesn't surprise her that they would use a demon just as much as humans and even their own.
But that's not what this little rebellious soldier wants.
She decides to let that settle for a moment, and instead tilts her head back to give him a flirtatious grin, even if he's stubbornly refusing to look at it. She knows exactly how to get his full attention. ]
This is about as human as it gets. [ She gives his cock a light, teasing stroke before taking a step back. ] You're a little curious, aren't you?
[ Now that she has just enough room, she takes a moment to strip out of her clothes without a trace of self-consciousness. She could make a much bigger show of it than the casual writhing she employs to help ease that obscuring fabric out of the way, but she doesn't have all the time in the world here.
She's also on a mission. Which is why she doesn't waste much time in pressing back in against him, both of her hands sliding back into his wings where she slips her fingers deftly through those smooth feathers until she has a tight grip on two handfuls worth of feathers. It's a very pleasing mix of sensations for her, her breasts pressed against his warm and bloody chest, his hard cock trapped between them, and the silky texture of the feathers against her hands and arms.
It's not even a thinly veiled threat, but her tone is one of almost teasing admonishment. She's sure he'll get the idea. ]
Didn't I just tell you not to hold out on me? Don't you think I know when someone isn't telling the whole story, Cassie?
[ She's bluffing, of course. Taking a shot in the dark just because she knows he's not broken yet. He could be hiding things from her, or maybe that's it. She has no real way of knowing for sure. ]
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Heaven's plans for Sam could not be anything good. Their plans for Dean weren't either, and, in fact, had never been. Castiel knew now, after all, that he had been sent to save him when it was already too late, and Heaven knew it. Not Cas, of course, who had hoped, who had thought he was doing the right thing. No. Dean had broken in Hell because it was Heaven's plan that he broke as much as Hell's. How could that be divine? How could that be what Cas represented?
He shuddered as she stroked him again, and the human vulnerability gripping him gave an earnest little twitch, hips trying to lift toward her touch. She was already pulling away, and he was left to watch her, hungry for her touch, as she began to strip out of her clothes. Surprisingly, that actually did something for him. His body responded to the nudity of hers in what was the most predictable way, at this point, with another moan of desire, and then a twitch of his chin that barely represented his shattering defiance. ]
Do I have to answer that?
[ Then she was close again, and he stopped being able to fight it, groaning and rolling his face away from hers. Not that it helped. Her breasts pressed against him, and her fingers slid into his wings, sending more of those fresh, overwhelming sensations whipsnapping through him. What was the point in making them so delicate, so arousing? Just another of his Father's mistaken designs. His angels were not meant to feel pleasure like this.
His mind was dulled again by the sensation, and what could he do about it? She knew he was lying--or rather, not telling the whole truth. ]
Sam. I know about Sam.
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It's an interesting thought. He's an interesting angel. Too dangerous to play with, but at the same time still too potentially useful to ignore. It wouldn't be the first time that Ruby's played with fire, and she couldn't deny the fact that she gets a thrill out of it.
Her dark eyes are still fixed on his face as he finally utters a name, and her head tilts thoughtfully, briefly catching her bottom lip in her teeth while she considers it.
Then the smile is back, just as devious as ever as she makes a thoughtful hum and slowly slips her fingers from his feathers for now and lets them trail to his hips, catching onto them while she sinks toward the floor, close enough that her breath is warm against his skin all the way down his chest and stomach, and then her lips are hovering just above his cock.
She thinks that the feathers might be even more sensitive to stimulation than this, but she's still learning how to manipulate those. Here she knows exactly what to do. ]
Tell me about Sam.
[ The words are purred, and she's still gazing up at him while her tongue traces a warm, wet line across the tip of his cock. As fun as it would be to completely blow what's left of his mind, she doesn't want to incapacitate him just yet. She wants him to talk, after all. If he decides to be cooperative and give her what she wants, she'll encourage him to continue with more strokes of her tongue and even some gentle sucking.
If he can somehow work up enough rebelliousness to refuse she won't be too disappointed. There's still a lot she can do to him. ]
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As an angel, of course, he knew about oral sex. It was one of those strange conundrums about humanity that made it upstairs, confusing any angel which heard about it, and yet humans were hardly the only species to engage in either that or masturbation. Even horses masturbated; it was so strange that they associated it with the devil. But there still seemed something so strange about them putting their mouths on each other's genitals, even enjoying it.
That was, until Castiel was the one with hot breath whispering against his turgid arousal, the heat racing over his body, making the ends of his feathers shiver in their bondage. Even just the hint of touch was wrecking him. Castiel had no idea what would happen when she actually touched him.
Under any circumstance but this, he might have even answered her question, but she stared up at him, and he stared down at her, and then she put her tongue on the tip. He moaned softly, a helpless act of pure desire, no rebellion at all in it. He hadn't been made, or taught, to fight anything like this, and, damn it, nobody else had ever even tried. His chest swelled as he took in a breath after his moan, and he let it out in another as she blatantly refused to continue. ]
If I tell you... If I tell you, will you...
[ Let me go? Not even the first thing on his mind right now. He tried to arch his neck to get closer to her, as though that would make what he wanted to ask for more private. ]
Will you... Please, will you put your mouth on me? I only know that I need it...I need it.
I'm sorry this took forever ._.
[ The idea of a contract with an angel is beyond ridiculous, of course, but so is the idea of having one completely at her mercy. She doesn't rank very high when it comes to brute strength, though part of that relative weakness is just a strategic bluff to help her avoid too much attention, definitely nowhere near the level of demons like Lilith. The idea of having anything to do with an angel is pretty ludicrous for her, but now that she has the opportunity spread out so attractively in front of her, she can't say turn it down. Besides, if anyone were to manage to break in, it wouldn't be too hard to slip out before they even knew she was here. Lilith would make sure that he didn't break free to cause trouble for them.
For now she has him to herself, and she's not going to give that up before she has to.
Castiel's words might lack in the eloquence of experience, they more than make up for it with earnest desperation, and that does more for her than any amount of skilled dirty talk. To have such a powerful, impressive and arrogant creature begging for her attention would be enough to get any demon going, and she's no exception. She doesn't bother to hide the fact that it has her drawing in a breath with heated anticipation, exhaled in a pleased sigh as she pulls herself back up toward his mouth, her lips curving in another smile. Suddenly one of those feathers that she'd plucked out is back in her hand so that she can flick it teasingly along that still-wet line she just licked.
She's curious to see how he might react to the fact that what his words and his movements genuinely arouse her. She's not at all shy about pressing her soft, lithe vessel against his strained and bloody one, her pulse maybe beating hard enough for him to feel it where their bodies touch, enough to bring a flush to her otherwise pale skin. Unlike him, though, she knows exactly how to handle it. ]
Alright, angel. You talk, I'll show you why this is popular with those humans you're so fond of.
[ When she sinks down again, her fingers latching onto his hips once more, it's with more purpose than the last time. The long, slow licks that she trails along his cock are clearly intended to work over very line and curve of it, working all the way down to his balls. It all still hinges on his willingness to speak, of course. She'll allow him time to stutter and gasp all he likes, even encourage it, but if he starts slipping too far she'll use merciless teasing to bring his attention back to her. ]