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Tempted to just answer 'because' but that would be a cop out.

The entire point of this community is so that Supernatural artists and fic writers can come and indulge their random side.

Also, so that, if you do not feel like reading something depressing, you can come and find something that is interesting and enjoyable, if a little bizarre. But sometimes crazy can be fun.

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mark pellegrino, lucifer, sparkles, spn, supernatural

Title: Sweden
Author: Din mor
Fandom: Supernatural, obviously
Word count: 1466
Characters: Lucifer, Michael, Castiel, Sam, Dean. Adam, an old lady, the jail guards, the cops, Jenz
Warnings: Anton LaVey, Europe, Swedish cussing, Lucifer being an idiot, CRASHDIET, jail, and Lucifer singing in Swedish. Also Denmark, but that doesn't need a warning. That needs an alert system. No offense, Danes.
Summary: The boys travel to Sweden, or: Lucifer buys the Satanic Bible and is arrested.
Notes: This is not my fault.

Lucifer runs from stand to stand, eyes wide, gazing at each item on display as though it were Christmas, he a five-year-old, and the stuff his gifts. Everything has an unhealthy allure on the Archangel, every candlestick and every old Gameboy card capturing his attention like a new puppy captures that of a child. No one knows what to make of it; they’ve never seen him so happy, so let-out, and they don’t know whether this is good or bad.
Several minutes into his rave, he darts up to Sam, pulling his sleeve, and gives the human his best puppy-eyes. Sam raises an eyebrow, gently pushes him off, and hands him a ten-euro bill. Lucifer snatches it away, kisses Sam on the cheek  (several old people glare, and Sam turns fire-red) and runs off, only to come back five minutes later with a book titled The Great Grimoire. He’s overjoyed at having found something with his name in it that isn’t the Bible or a Black Metal album, and he’s making a huge point of it. Eventually Dean takes he book away from him under the threat of using this old piece of shit as firewood for the Bunker. Disappointed, Lucifer shuffles along Sam’s side and sulks. It takes him all of two minutes to find something new and even more exciting: a battered black paperback, with the Sigil of Baphomet on the front cover and a bald dude on the back, titled A Biblíā Sāthânicâ. Michael refuses to let him buy it because “this man was on Crack when he wrote this book, Lucifer, and he wrote some very offensive things about us and Father”.
But Lucifer really wants it, because one of the books is named after him, and finally Michael caves because he can’t resist the blonde’s puppy-eyes. The rest of the time, he makes a point of showing Dean that there are two separate Books in this book, one for Satan and one for himself, and reminding Dean that “I’m not Satan”. There’s also a Book of Belial, which Lucifer finds very amusing (enough so for Sam to scream at him to “SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I’LL BOOK OF BELIAL YOUR ASS!”) and a Book of Leviathan, upon which finding out Lucifer searches his phone for Dick Roman’s number to ask him about that. He doesn’t find it, obviously.
The book has a part that Lucifer likes. He would even go so far as to say he loves it. It says, “Love is one of the most intense feelings felt by man; another is hate. Forcing yourself to feel indiscriminate love is very unnatural. If you try to love everyone you only lessen your feelings for those who deserve your love. Repressed hatred can lead to many physical and emotional aliments. By learning to release your hatred towards those who deserve it, you cleanse yourself of these malignant emotions and need not take your pent-up hatred out on your loved ones.” , and, when he asks Sam what it means, Sam explains that everyone should be loved as they deserve.
Lucifer has the prompt idea to hug an old lady, who beats him with her cane and screeches for the Police to come.
Then she jabs him in the ribs with the tip of her cane, making him whimper and fall on his ass, and rough hands are gripping his own and cuffing them, and Sam’s staring at the whole scene, horrified and confused, and Castiel has only just realized that his second-eldest brother is, indeed, being arrested. Someone pushes him into a car, and smacks him upside the head, and yells loudly, “MARKUS, FIRE DE ENGINE, VE’RE BRINGING DIS HOOLIGEN TO DE JAIL!”, to which another voice replies “OV COURSE, JANNE!”. An engine revs, and sirens blare, and Lucifer slumps into his seat, annoyed, and starts singing in Swedish to annoy the cops.
One of them slaps him when he sings that Jag träffade din fru och hon knullar hennes nya pojkvän. Lucifer ignores it (he actually bites the man’s hand, but he tells Sam later on that he ignored it.)
And then they’re at a huge brick complex, fenced off and with guards stationed at every available exit, even the toilet window and with Fängelse painted on the front.
Gå in, värdelöse kukslampa.” The one named Janne growls and shoves him into a cell. Number 616. Surprised, Lucifer looks at them and tilts his head, and promptly starts to cry because “They know too much”.
Then the cell door bangs shut, and he’s alone in the dark without a phone, and with no one there to cuddle. It hasn’t occurred to him that he could use his Grace to escape. The best thing to do seems to be to start crying.
So he does.
Next morning, he’s woken by loud yawning and singing in Danish, of all things. Obviously the Danish singer hasn’t heard of the fact that, as an inherit rule, Sweden and Denmark are Archenemies. He raises a curious eyebrow, crawls over to the cell wall, and sees a blonde man with a beard and in an old CRASHDIËT shirt leaned against the wall. This is getting ridiculous. Lucifer takes a rubber band from his pocket (Sam probably left it there after he used it as a hairtie) and flings it at the man, who yelps and looks up.
“Hej.” Lucifer greets him, head tilted, and waits for a reply. The man gets up, walks to the wall, and sits down, legs crossed.
“Hej.” He replies, curious, and Lucifer offers his hand through the bars. The man takes it, shakes it, and lets it drop, staring at him through murky brown eyes. Jail hasn’t been good to him. He’s clearly lost a lot of weight, his beard is scraggly and brownish-ginger-blonde, the dirt painfully obvious in it, and his stomach growls multiple times just while they sit there. Eventually Lucifer snaps his fingers, procuring a burger, and holds it out to the man, who kneels, head bowed, and cries something about Valhalla and an eternal feast.
“Varför är du hit?” Lucifer asks, waiting for the man to finish his burger, and the other sighs and leans against the wall.
“Jag stal en bil.” He mutters awkwardly, and Lucifer laughs. Stealing a car seems a hell of a lot better than hugging an old lady on the street in a rush of drunken joy and misunderstanding Anton LaVey’s words to him. Still chuckling, he snaps again and a coke appears. The man’s eyes go wide, and he accepts it gratefully. When the man finishes his drink, he looks up, eyes narrowed, and returns the question of what went wrong.
Lucifer smiles sadly, rests his head against the cell door, and sighs, “Jag var full. Det är allt dett jag säger.”
The man gives him a sympathetic look.
“Vad är din nam?” Lucifer asks, and the man says “Jenz”. Then he returns to his burger and finishes it.
“Vad heter du?” he asks, and Lucifer blinks slowly, a cool, small smile twisting his lips.
“Lucifer.” Lucifer replies, and the man screams.
“FANKET DJÄVUL ÄR IN MITT CELL!” he shrieks, alerting the guards, who come in, give him a knock to the head, and shove the now-unconscious man into the corner.
“Vi hoppas att han har inte varit alltför irriterande.” One of the guards sighs, rolling his eyes. “Han är galen.”
“Nej, jag tror inte.” Lucifer smiles, snaps, and eats his newly appeared burger and fries. The Policemen and guards faint in a heap. Then he snaps again, and the cell door opens. He steps out and over the Policemen and guards lithely, skips out merrily, and disables the entire Warning and Alarm System with another snap.

Sam is waiting for him outside, looking like he wants to strangle him, and when Lucifer slides into the Impala’s backseat, he grabs his shoulders and shakes him, hard.
“No, I went to jail.” He sighs patiently. “I made a friend there. His name’s Jenz. He likes CRASHDIËT. I gave him a burger and coke. From In&Out, not the crap that McDonald’s sells.”
“When we get home, I’m going to make you eat McDonald’s.” Sam threatens. Lucifer almost cries, but Michael prevents it by pulling his younger brother into a hug and kissing his hair.
“Sam, can we stop at Burger King?” Cas demands. Everyone turns and glares at him.
And, personally, Adam’s glad everything is back to normal.
He wouldn’t trade his family for all the money in the world, even if, at times, they’re a bit galen themselves. He still loves them.
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