“Do you have wings?” Sam asked.

The hallucination looked uncomfortable. “Sammy, I’m as happy as a clam seeing you talk to me, but that’s not on the list of approved subjects.”

“You’re an angel. Archangel. You should have wings.” Sam pressed on, partly out of curiosity but mostly out of spite, out of pleasure that he found something to hold over the devil’s head.

“You don’t play nice and I’m going to start singing,” Lucifer warned. “And never stop,” he added after a moment.

“I’m curious. You’re living in my head anyway, might as well tell me. If we had killed you - really killed you, would you have left those wingprints like the other angels.”

Lucifer stared as if this line of questioning would end with a bit of intense eye contact. Then he leaned back in his chair and grinned at Sam, looking more like himself for the first time in this conversation. “Have you ever read Good Omens?”

“What does that have to do with-“

“Well, they got a bunch of things wrong. Of course. Humans always are bound to screw things up. But they had a moment of true insight - true enough that I thought one of them might have actually seen an angel before. They said that demons still have wings, they just happen to be better groomed.”

“So, you have wings, they’re just prettier?” Sam said, leaning forward in his chair.

Lucifer frowned and in a blink and a sharp, violent sound, was face to face with Sam as he said, “well, they have to be good for something. I can’t exactly use them to fly.” Another loud slamming of a crackling noise and he was gone, retreated into some burrow of Sam’s mind.

Sam sat back, breathing out in relief he shouldn’t be feeling towards a hallucination, a trick of the mind, and tensing up ever-so-slightly in apprehension of what it means that he just pissed off his own personal demon. Or, sorry. Archangel.

Apparently I missed two episodes of Supernatural?

Yeah. Time to watch them, even if I think tumblr spoiled the ending fo the finale for me.

It took me a moment, though, and I started watching the finale and…

carry on my wayward son
there’ll be peace when you are done

stab through the heart, seriously. God, I get flashbacks to Swan Song every time I hear that.

don’t you cry no more 

When it comes down to it, Daphne was just afraid he’d leave.

It wasn’t that she was desperate. She’d had plenty of suitors and offers before this. And when this strange man who remembered nothing of his life ran into her, naked and lost, she thought it her duty as a good person to help him find his way.

She took him in and purchased clothes, telling her friends at church about him for the added security this offered. She did, after all, have a complete stranger in her house.

He did not seem to know or care what name he would prefer, but after a few days she found it would help her to give him one. He seemed apathetic to the idea so she feigned excitement and encouragement where he lacked it.

“How about Emanuel?” She offered the name quietly, her hand holding her bible, the same book she had been scouring every night for some form of guidance.

“What?” the man said, studying her with that intense child’s gaze he constantly had.

“Emanuel? For your name? It means ‘God is with us’.”

“God?” the man repeated.

“He led you to me, so I thought…it seemed fitting.”

The man sat in his chair, contemplating this suggestion, before finally looking up at her with a definitive ”I like it.”

That was the first moment he seemed…he seemed like a normal human being. It was as if the name unlocked something in him and slowly brought out a man, a man who smiles and jokes, talks and laughs and forms connections with other people.

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“I think we know each other well enough for me to call you Sammy, don’t you?”

Sam tried to keep his face impassive, his gaze staring anywhere but at his own personal demon, hallucination, monster, angel. But it was three days of no sleep, of no relief, and he got up from the chair in the dark room and left the motel, keys jingling in his pocket as he walked in the cool night air.

“I mean, I certainly know you well enough. How could I not? I am you.”

“You,” Sam said, wheeling around to point an accusing finger and finding Lucifer grinning in victory. “You are not me. You are a part of me that’s broken.”

“Right,” Lucifer said in an oddly soothing voice. “Because you were so whole and intact before I got here.”

“Shut up,” Sam grumbled.

“Oh, come on, Sammy. Sammy? Saaaaammy. It’s such a nice nickname. Very fitting.”

“What do I call you, then?” Sam said, throwing up his hands in frustrating defeat. “Lucie?”

Lucifer made a face, his mouth off to one side in casual displeasure. “I prefer ‘Morning Star’. It’s got a nice imagery to it.”

“I prefer you shut up and let me sleep, Lucie.”

Lucifer cringed this time and ran after Sam with his hands thrown up in a appeasing gesture. “Alright, alright, if you have to shorten it, how about ‘Luce’?”

“How about you call me Sam?” he rumbled, twitching his head to the right to work out the soreness in his neck.

Lucifer got in front of him and turned so he was walking backwards. “No need to be snippy, Sammy, look at this lovely conversation we’re having! It’s like we’re friends.”

“You obviously don’t know how to have friends.”

“Misfortune of circumstance,” the devil said with an easy shrug. “Come on, Sammy. You know you like the nickname.”

Sam’s feet led him back to the door of the motel room. He sighed. “If I say yes, will you let me sleep?”

Lucifer leaned against the door in thought. “Only if you don’t call me Lucie,” he said with a grin.

“Fine,” Sam sighed, and for the first time in a couple of days, Lucifer disappeared.

basiacat replied to your post: SPN: Divine Right

WOW WOW WOW I DIDN’T KNOW HOW BADLY I WANTED THIS UNTIL JUST NOW. WOW. WOW. W O W.

<3 <3 <3

I just. I really want this episode. So much. I think it’d be fucking fantastic, and I loved the other episode when they DID have the other gods and Luce was all “lol, no one cares”.

Because guess what? God is gone, angels’ numbers are dwindling, and the two most powerful archangels are stuck in a cage.

Christianity has seen better days…

“I understand you’re having a little Leviathan problem,” one of the men said, grinning like a coyote.

“Sam,” Dean whispered, his stance poised and ready. “This is by far the stupidest idea we’ve ever had, and that’s sayin’ something.”

Sam shook off the comment in a moment of feigned control. “They can’t go outside the circle,” he said, almost convincingly. The man who had spoken laughed like a hyena. Sam spoke over him. “This is your world, too.”

“‘Your world too’, did you notice?” a woman scoffs from behind her helmet and armor. “‘Your world too’, as if humans are not our mere playthings. What want for their safety have we, when they have turned their backs on us in light of new ideas and so-called ‘wisdom’ they believe they can achieve in mere centuries.” She stared, hard, her eyes as piercing and as unyielding as all the statues who carried her likeness. “You know not your place, Winchesters.”

“So you have heard of us,” Dean said with a mocking smile. A man walked up to the limits of the binding, walked until he was face to face with the brothers and grinned.

“Of course, good Athena has heard, as have we all. The tale of the great Winchesters, yes. The way they save the day, but only after they put it in peril.” He grinned in that sadistic way that only storytellers were truly capable of, and began to pace in front of them in glee as he continued. “Of course we all know the story of how our kind was wiped by the Morning Star! The simple act of dominance is only lost, perhaps, by the good sense of polytheism.”

“We get it, there’s a bunch of you, that’s why we called you here,” Dean said, and he was met with a low growl from the speaker.

The growl sounded like many words and sounds and languages at once, but the message was still abundantly clear: “hush now, boy, your elders are speaking.” the man resumed his pacing, his voice melodic, his hands weaving the intricacies of his tale. “And what so happened to the Christian word when all the dust was settled? You found a god, quite indifferent, and he proved his hand would not touch these humans. You saw how angels and demons clashed on rocky shores of souls, their petty fight carrying a toll on their own believers. You watched Lucifer strut and mock in the face of sense and decorum, deciding to be a slave once more, not to a father but to a notion of destiny and might.” He paused, turning to face the two brothers and bringing his hands together as if in prayer in front of his smile. “Christianity, my boys, has had its show and reign. It has shown the world the might of the apocalypse, and it has fizzled out to a barely glowing, dying ember. Your work, Sam and Dean Winchester, was to prove to us that a new world order would soon follow, if we could only bide our time.”

“Alright, Sparknotes,” Dean said gruffly. “What about the Leviathans, then? You think they’d just leave you alone?”

“The Leviathans want Earth, human,” another man said from the back. “What use is caring for a planet that has abandoned us? It can fall into chaos as it wills, our devout followers shall be protected by the force of our gale.”

“Look, Set, right?” Sam said, pointing at the speaker. The man nodded, his regalia easily betraying his Egyptian origins. “And you’re Anansi?” Sam said, pointing at the man who had delivered the rhythmic monologue, who dipped his head into a nod. “So you must be the Coyote,” Sam addressed the first man, who also nodded a confirmation. “No offense, but… the Leviathans kill angels. What makes you think you can protect yourselves from that?”

“When just one archangel wasted twelve of you?” Dean added.

“You have called us here under a misinformed idea of sentiment,” Athena said. “We have only stayed to make it clear that this is not our battle.”

“You guys got a truce going with those monsters?” Dean spat. “You think they’ll honor that, when the time comes?”

“How interesting you call them monsters,” Set said. “They are nothing but pure animals. Looking for a food supply, desiring the top of the food chain, instinct guides their every action. No, the real monsters are the ones that think. The ones that delude themselves with importance and a sense of birthright.”

“It is high time humans learned that the only right they are subject to is our judgement,” Athena picked up. “We refuse, Sam and Dean Winchester. We refuse and we caution that calling upon us again in this inconsequential battle you will lose will force our hand not to help, but to smite.”

The circle glowed a harsh white and the five intruders were gone. The ground was burned black, smelling of charred wood.

“Well,” Dean said simply. “That could’ve gone better.”

“Back to square one,” Sam said with a heavy sigh.

Immediate reaction to SPN 7x21 was…was a lot more hostile than I expected:

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