[fic] should have known
Should Have Known
➤ for: BNW, based on a July prompt (I Should Have Known It by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers) from justprompts
➤ in which: Ruby reflects on her Barbie dream home.
➤ warnings: ... swearing?
➤ word count: 762
➤ starring: mentions of Elle (blueshocks), Death (cantcheatme), Lucifer (wouldneverlie), and Samifer (lovedthefather).
should have known.It fucking pissed her off every time she looked at that damn thing. Weeks she spent staring at it after her little chat with death, letting the pink lead paint eat her away inside. As if there was anything left inside to be eaten. It took her three weeks to figure out exactly why it made her so fucking mad to look at it after Death had planted that seed of doubt.
That Barbie dream home was everything that Lucifer's promise of 'Eden' was for demons. Cheap. Plastic. Breakable. A shitty excuse for the real deal. And, the little plastic barbies that went inside were all his perfect plastic model soldiers who went about their perfect jobs without a care. They never questioned. They never doubted. They just did.
And angels were supposed to be the fucked up ones with control issues?
It was that fucking house that made her realize Death was right and when she did, oh lordie. She wanted to throw it across the room. Smash it into a thousand pieces and stomp it and crush it and burn and destroy it until it was crumbled bits of burned, manipulated plastic that never could have resembled the bright pink home. That looked like what it really was -- a steaming pile of worthless dog shit.
But, she didn't. Instead, she acted grateful. She let it stand there, reminding her of what a fucking dumbass she'd been. Of what a failure she was. Of how much effort she'd thrown into the wrong goddamn goal. Life in sin was great. Encouraging it was great. Hell-time aside, you know, being a demon was a pretty fucking sweet deal. You got to kill a lot of shit. But, following that idiot of an ex-archangel into his stupid plan to destroy everything aside from himself?
Not something she could get behind anymore. Not even in the slightest. So, she'd made up her mind. She wouldn't fucking crawl back to the Winchesters and whine about what a mistake she'd made -- no. She'd hold her head up high like the big fucking girl she was and keep a brave face. But, she wasn't gonna help Lucifer off 'em, either. Double agent was old hat for her by now, she just had to hope he wouldn't smell her fear when she started agreeing to his orders and never lifting a finger to follow through. Pretending to hunt Dean Winchester was a lot harder than anyone woulda guessed. They used to be hard to find.
The worst of it, though, was that all the while, she had to keep that evil fucking house. Part of some twisted way of proving that she was still loyal. She still defended that goddamn gift like it was a WWE championship belt. She was the most loyal. She had busted him out. She was the biggest fucking moron of them all and had signed her own death warrant -- fuck the rest of them. All the other demons, she couldn't care less. They weren't worth shit, Azazel and a handful of his closest knit crew aside, but her own sense of self preservation -- one of her most ardently defended qualities, was bullshit. She'd welcomed genocide on her own race and now she had to put all her chips on Winchester for real, whether she wanted to or not.
Well, shit.
Even she had to appreciate the irony in the fact that the little, plastic house that she'd worked up to represent all the lies and deceit and bullshit she'd been put through was just about the only thing between her and a slow, painful death at the hands of the big boss. Talk about a rock and a hard place -- not being able to go a day without staring at the proof of your own dumbassery pretty much summarized that to a tee. All her shame and her guilt and her frustration with what a fucking moron she was, set out on display like a pulitzer on her living room floor.
Maybe one day she'd get a reason to actually enjoy playing with it again. She still didn't have it in her to talk to Elle about coming over to mess with it some more. It'd probably just end in her decapitating all of Elle's Barbies out of frustration.
➤ for: BNW, based on a July prompt (I Should Have Known It by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers) from justprompts
➤ in which: Ruby reflects on her Barbie dream home.
➤ warnings: ... swearing?
➤ word count: 762
➤ starring: mentions of Elle (blueshocks), Death (cantcheatme), Lucifer (wouldneverlie), and Samifer (lovedthefather).
should have known.It fucking pissed her off every time she looked at that damn thing. Weeks she spent staring at it after her little chat with death, letting the pink lead paint eat her away inside. As if there was anything left inside to be eaten. It took her three weeks to figure out exactly why it made her so fucking mad to look at it after Death had planted that seed of doubt.
That Barbie dream home was everything that Lucifer's promise of 'Eden' was for demons. Cheap. Plastic. Breakable. A shitty excuse for the real deal. And, the little plastic barbies that went inside were all his perfect plastic model soldiers who went about their perfect jobs without a care. They never questioned. They never doubted. They just did.
And angels were supposed to be the fucked up ones with control issues?
It was that fucking house that made her realize Death was right and when she did, oh lordie. She wanted to throw it across the room. Smash it into a thousand pieces and stomp it and crush it and burn and destroy it until it was crumbled bits of burned, manipulated plastic that never could have resembled the bright pink home. That looked like what it really was -- a steaming pile of worthless dog shit.
But, she didn't. Instead, she acted grateful. She let it stand there, reminding her of what a fucking dumbass she'd been. Of what a failure she was. Of how much effort she'd thrown into the wrong goddamn goal. Life in sin was great. Encouraging it was great. Hell-time aside, you know, being a demon was a pretty fucking sweet deal. You got to kill a lot of shit. But, following that idiot of an ex-archangel into his stupid plan to destroy everything aside from himself?
Not something she could get behind anymore. Not even in the slightest. So, she'd made up her mind. She wouldn't fucking crawl back to the Winchesters and whine about what a mistake she'd made -- no. She'd hold her head up high like the big fucking girl she was and keep a brave face. But, she wasn't gonna help Lucifer off 'em, either. Double agent was old hat for her by now, she just had to hope he wouldn't smell her fear when she started agreeing to his orders and never lifting a finger to follow through. Pretending to hunt Dean Winchester was a lot harder than anyone woulda guessed. They used to be hard to find.
The worst of it, though, was that all the while, she had to keep that evil fucking house. Part of some twisted way of proving that she was still loyal. She still defended that goddamn gift like it was a WWE championship belt. She was the most loyal. She had busted him out. She was the biggest fucking moron of them all and had signed her own death warrant -- fuck the rest of them. All the other demons, she couldn't care less. They weren't worth shit, Azazel and a handful of his closest knit crew aside, but her own sense of self preservation -- one of her most ardently defended qualities, was bullshit. She'd welcomed genocide on her own race and now she had to put all her chips on Winchester for real, whether she wanted to or not.
Well, shit.
Even she had to appreciate the irony in the fact that the little, plastic house that she'd worked up to represent all the lies and deceit and bullshit she'd been put through was just about the only thing between her and a slow, painful death at the hands of the big boss. Talk about a rock and a hard place -- not being able to go a day without staring at the proof of your own dumbassery pretty much summarized that to a tee. All her shame and her guilt and her frustration with what a fucking moron she was, set out on display like a pulitzer on her living room floor.
Maybe one day she'd get a reason to actually enjoy playing with it again. She still didn't have it in her to talk to Elle about coming over to mess with it some more. It'd probably just end in her decapitating all of Elle's Barbies out of frustration.