#he actually doesn’t even start trying to pick fights with him until Lucifer insults his decor lmaooo

[twiceasfrustrating]

I'm sorry if I already requested this of you I honestly have the memory of a walnut. But can I request headcannons of the boys + dia who find out MC has an emotionally abusive husband? Like fluff with some murder maybe?

thank you

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)

Additional Tags: abusive relationship mentioned, some are a bit murdery, I don't know how to write fluff for such a situation but I tried

A/N: If you are in an abusive situation in the USA and need to speak to someone, please call 1-800-799-7233. If you cannot call, you can also text “START” to 88788. If it is safe for you, you can also go to the website directly. Abuse takes many forms, but it is always about control.

Feel free to add the numbers/contact for other countries if you have them.

Lucifer

He got upset at MC once and they flinched when he yelled and they started apologizing like there was no tomorrow. That was how he found out something was wrong. They wouldn’t say anything, but he could tell that something was deeply wrong. Perhaps he had never noticed before the formation of their pact how MC shuddered around him whenever he got upset, but now he did.

He is very careful not to yell again and when he does he is quick to lower his voice the second MC shows distress, reassuring them that he is not angry at them and would not harm them. It sounds almost hollow after how he acted when they originally met, but he means it.

There was one time MC dropped a dish on the floor while cooking and it broke, spilling hot food everywhere. They started picking up the pieces in a hurry, not even paying attention to how the hot shards burned and cut up their hands.

Lucifer was quick to pick them up off the ground and tend to the fresh injuries, all while they kept apologizing and saying that they would clean it up as soon as they could and saying they would make something else. Lucifer forbade them from doing either and cleaned the mess himself. He did that a lot. Took care of their ‘mistakes’ and cared for them. They would almost believe he wasn't the same terrifying man they had first met.

It takes a long time for MC to get used to their new relationship with Lucifer and once they do they are far more comfortable and less skittish.

He is not pressuring the story out of them. He can wait, as difficult as it is, for them to open up. However, he is no fool. He knows who is to blame, and that man should be very afraid should Lucifer and he ever meet.

Mammon

MC always spoke so well of their husband when they first met the brothers. Mammon was actually jealous and wished MC would talk about him that way. They would always say how kind their husband was and how he loved them and how he wanted the best for them. It sounded like some kind of cheesy romance novel.

Things started to get weird though when he and MC started to get even closer. He would invite them out, only to hear “I don’t think my husband would like that” or “I shouldn’t be alone with you”. It was weird the first time, but it quickly became a pattern. A very worrying pattern. Mammon knew abuse when he saw it. He was the family butt monkey and a witch punching bag, after all.

The difference is that he’s a fallen angel that is used to such treatment and, as a demon, the things done to him do very little in the long run. Humans are far more fragile though; their minds, bodies, and hearts. And then Mammon started to hate MC’s husband with a passion that could not be matched.

He cared less about making that bastard pay and more about taking care of MC. Such treatment can ruin a person, especially good people like MC. He would do anything to show them that they deserved better than that man, whatever that eventually meant.

Leviathan

He and MC have a little too much in common for his taste. It is actually almost disgusting how little self-worth they seem to have, but he can also see how that was trained into them.

They play down their worth a lot: “It’s nothing”, “It could be better”, “I failed again”, etc. They never say anything positive about themself. They are really good at picking out their flaws, but almost incapable of pointing out their merits.

It goes against everything Levi believes in, but he has to start praising them since they won’t praise themself. He likes hanging out with them, the stuff they make is nice, they are a really quick learner. It feels weird to praise someone, but it’s nice to see MC start to feel a little better about all the things they do.

Although, he also has the mild thought of showing MC’s husband that there are more terrifying things in the world than the horrors a human is capable of. After all, Levi has seen the monsters that dwell in the deep; he is one of those monsters and there is a reason humans fear the darkest depths.

Satan

There are some wonderful upsides to being the avatar of wrath. Normally, Satan wouldn't be so crass as to give into them, but sometimes humanity is just so vile that he can't help himself.

One of those upsides is a mind filled to the brim with the instinctual desire to rip and tear anything he can get his hands on to pieces. It's an instinct he fights off constantly with his centuries of training and self-discovery, but just this once he doesn't mind becoming the beast he was born as.

MC's husband squeals like a stuck pig throughout the entire night, only the winds, spiders, and Satan being able to hear and appreciate the sound. And appreciate it he does, until the screaming stops and his hands are drenched with blood.

He really needs to get himself cleaned off before he sees MC again, otherwise they will be terrified. He needs to look his best when they come running to him worried about their missing husband. It’s sad how much they worry about him despite everything.

Asmodeus

MC was always so calm and docile when he wanted to spend time with them. He didn’t really get it at first but it was easier to dress them up and take them out, so he didn’t question it. At least, not until someone (read: Solomon) not so subtly pointed out that it is unusual for someone to be so passive, almost to the point of being doll-like.

Asmo didn’t believe it at first. How could anyone treat someone as sweet as MC so cruelly, especially someone that is supposed to love them? But from that day onward, his eyes were opened up and he started to notice things.

The way they didn’t put forth their own opinions and let him take the lead on everything, how they stuck close to him when they both went out, the subtle way their fingers reached out then drew back when they liked something.

“Do you like it?” He would ask and their response was “do you?”

It was so difficult to get them to start putting their own wants and desires above what they thought he’d like. When they showed interest in something, he would fawn all over it. If they liked something, he liked it too. He would buy them things they even glanced casually at, told them they were worthwhile and lovely, anything that other man would never say to them.

He tore them down so completely, but Asmo would work tirelessly to build them back up.

Beelzebub

He is the softest man in the world, and sometimes MC just lets things slip out. He’s very easy to open up to and they don’t think about what they say. He was the first person that they opened up to about what was happening to them.

Suffice it to say, Beel was shocked when they mentioned how terrified they were for the exchange program to end. Despite everything that they had been through over the past year, they didn’t want to go back.

Beel had only felt so powerless one other time in his life. He couldn’t go with them to protect them and they couldn’t stay in the Devildom forever to stay safe. It was painfully cruel just how much he couldn’t help them.

All he could do was hold them and listen to them get everything off of their chest, dreading the day that the exchange program would end.

MC has to hurry up and learn how to summon him, because he wants to keep them safe from that awful situation. He would never allow another person it the world to hurt them again.

Belphegor

Belphie likes exactly one human in the three realms and every other one is none of his concern. Or, they wouldn’t be his concern if it weren’t for the fact that the one human he cared about was the victim of this particular instance.

He’s not like some of his other brothers. He doesn’t do comfort and he isn’t the best at torture, prefering to get everything over with quickly so he doesn’t have to expend all the extra energy. But, for such a special occasion, he is more than willing to put in the effort.

Humans really do create their own worst fears. Their minds run a mile a minute and they have the strangest way of finding how their own terrors can overpower what little defenses they have.

He may not be able to touch MC’s husband, but he can certainly return every slight against his favorite human. Long, sleepless nights wracked with unending horrors that only that man can truly appreciate.

All the while, he will gladly hold MC when their own nightmares overtake them, trying to put their mind at ease for just this moment. How he wished that his powers could control the waking world as well as their dreams...

Diavolo

“Don’t go back.” It was the first time Diavolo had brought up the idea. It was one he had been considering for a long time, knowing that it was extreme given that MC was a human and had to live in the human realm. However, he couldn’t live with himself knowing the kind of life MC would return to once they left.

The shouting, the insults, discarding everything MC liked because their husband doesn’t care for it… Diavolo would never feel right knowing he sent someone dear to him back there.

He had the means to help them get literally anywhere but back to that man. Diavolo could help set them free from that life, even if they didn’t want to stay in the Devildom. He knew MC would have the support of everyone they had met.

All they had to do was say yes and he would move the Devildom itself to get them out of there.

#obey me #dark fic #mine #request #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #swd obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #headcanon #obey me headcanons

[sallowhillshq]

EVENT 002: my bloody valentine CLUE DROP 003: suspect information

official suspect list:  abby anderson, adrian tepes,  armitage hux, baz grimm-pitch, link faron, michael langdon, sam giddings, victor zsasz

trigger warning for this clue drop: various criminal activities mentioned, such as murder. 

This wasn’t the worst this day could go. There could be multiple bodies across multiple streets, or all of Market Street could be blown to bits of cobblestone and wiring. They had been lucky, incredibly lucky, to only end up with one tiny, fairly contained disaster. Yet Armes was doubting how long they could continue to contain this disaster, with the clamoring of upset townsfolk directly outside her office window. 

Soon, this would no longer be her problem. Soon, this would entirely become  Ms. Kane and Ms. Brown’s problem. Armes would let them do the job they were created for as she dealt with the more clandestine issues of the town that required her direct supervision. 

Speaking of Ms. Kane and Ms. Brown,  the two sat in her office now.   They were professional,  clearly.   If they thought they could hide their training,  they were clearly mistaken.  Which is why they would be perfect for taking over the disaster.

“I’ve created a starting point of sorts, for our suspects,” Armes passed two identical lists to her newly crowned investigators. “Those I didn’t see at the dance who have violent proclivities in their pasts.”

“Arthur didn’t do it. He wouldn’t- get off me, Kate-” The blonde one, Ms. Brown, shrugged off Ms. Kane’s hand that had been placed lightly on her shoulder. “I get he had to do some bad shit in his past. Trust me, I get it. But he was a king in a time people were killing each other left and right for fun. He’s not like that anymore.”

“He was what?”  Ms. Kane interrupted her younger companion.

“A king, Kate. I thought I told you?”

“This is the first time I’m hearing about this,  but we can talk about it later.”

It seems, Ms. Brown is in trouble with her elder. 

“And anyways,” Ms. Brown’s face turned smug in a way Armes had only seen cats look before. “Arthur was passed out on our couch this morning with Merlin on top of him. I bet they haven’t moved, if you want to go check.”

“Ah, no. I’ll take your word for it. Arthur Pendragon is no longer a suspect,” Armes slashed through his name with red ink. “Abby Anderson, then?”

“I ran into her in the park recently.  If she did this,  it wasn’t her intent but rather her instinct protecting her.  I say we check,  but if it was her - we proceed gently,” Ms. Kane said.   An intelligent response.   They’ll be good for the investigation.  

“Seconded! And same with Sam Giddings. She’s kinda rough around the edges but I know her friend and it wouldn’t be because of any maliciousness,” Ms. Brown practically shrieked. 

Armes was starting to wish this list was far smaller, just so Ms. Brown could leave her office sooner. She was too old to be dealing with overgrown teenagers like this. 

“For our local vampires, every single one is a suspect. We haven’t had the best of luck with them, I’m sure you both remember how Halloween turned out,” Armes fixed them both with a look that had sent her best researchers running for the hills. Best to strike the fear of the gods into them, especially the young one. 

“It’s hard to forget,” Ms. Kane muttered under her breath.

“Baz Grimm-Pitch and Adrian Tepes are the two vampires we should look out for, they both have people in town willing to lie for them,” Armes continued. 

Ms. Brown, as always, decided to chime in at an inopportune moment. “Isn’t Adrian Tepes the weird guy who lives in a creepy log cabin out in the woods?” 

“No, Mr. Tepes lives in a castle out in the woods,” Armes said. “Link Faron is the one in the log cabin, who is also on our list. He has a violent history, starting at as young as ten years of age. Slaughter, trauma-”

“I don’t think we need his entire resume, Ms. Sallow,”  Ms. Kane interjected.   I suppose I’ll forgive it this once.

Ms. Brown made a small “oh” sound, suddenly very interested in the sheet of paper in her hands. Good. Perhaps now the blonde would allow them all to carry on with the investigation uninterrupted.”

“Armitage Hux.  Sounds like a rogue name, but who is he?”  Ms. Kane,  good with moving the conversation along clearly.

“A trouble-maker,” Armes had no patience for those of Mr. Hux’s background. She’d seen the effect his kind had on the world and was not keen to see one of them wreck havoc on her town. 

“He works for the Research Center, correct?” Ms. Kane asked,  though it seemed like she already knew the answer to that and was satisfied with it.

“Yes. One of the few there I could never get a handle on.” 

Armes let her eyes trail down the list again. If it were up to her, none of them would even be in Sallow Hills. They were all trouble-makers, even the two in front of her. Pulled from their different worlds to be a direct cause of Armes’ migraines. She had her own issues to deal with, with the original townspeople. Until her researchers discovered the secret to the barrier, Armes was slated to deal with all of the newcomers and all the disasters they brought with them. 

“And Damien Thorn? Why is he clumped together with Michael Langdon and Lucifer Morningstar?” Ms. Brown asked, voice finally at a reasonable volume. 

“Lucifer, while an annoyance, I doubt would pull something like this.  He’s smarter than leaving a dead body where anyone could see,” Ms. Kane said.

“While Mr. Morningstar is a hindrance at his worst, we can’t deny the… demonic parentage of the former two. And how that parentage may be Mr. Morningstar,” Armes coughed. She never did like talking about their kind either. 

“You’re kidding right? The actual Antichrist exists and there might just be two of them walking around?! Was anyone going to say anything about that?” And there it was, Ms. Brown back to her usual, screeching volume. “And you think Damien Thorn, the same Damien Thorn who was cleaning up broken beer bottles in the Community Center, is one of them? I don’t think he would even kill a fly with his own life on the line.”

“We can take Mr. Thorn off if it upsets you so dearly. Mr. Morningstar too, however I fear he may take that as an insult.” Pick your battles, Armes. 

“Well I agree with the Langdon kid.  He looks like the cult type.”  The way it was bit out by Ms. Kane,  Armes suspected there was some … resentment between the vigilante and cults.  Ms. Brown nodded along,  clearly also having some experience with cult things.

“If he didn’t want us to think he was a cult leader, he wouldn’t look so much like a cult leader.” Such a bitter statement, for one as young as Ms. Brown. “And with how specific some of the vic’s wounds are, it could be an initiation killing.” 

Oh joy, a cult. This would have never happened had all the newcomers not been here.  Cults! In her town!

“Speaking of cults,” Ms. Brown piped up again. “The Winchester guy, doesn’t he feel a little ex-culty to you? Very secretive, ‘we protect our own’, and the sheer amount of supposedly hidden weapons I’ve seen them carry. I don’t know, they seem like cult members.”

“I’ve seen him, Sam?, at the library.  He seems focused on that - and on the head librarian Will.   Troubled past, maybe, but not the ‘murder right now’ type,” Ms. Kane added in.  “But didn’t he hang around at Zsasz’s shop?”

“He did, which doesn’t help him in the slightest. Victor Zsasz was actually one of the first I put on that list, along with Michael Myers. Along with Oswald Cobblepot, all of them are-”

“It’s not Oswald!” And now Ms. Brown was standing, hands slammed down on Armes’ desk. There was a hostility to her, one that Armes found she did not like one bit. “He doesn’t even remember Gotham, there’s no way he could still remember how to be a professional killer. I can’t believe you would try and bring up a past he doesn’t even know about against him!”

Was this depth coming from Ms. Brown? The blonde was holding back tears, face contorted into something twisted and tense. It was clear she had a history with Mr. Cobblepot, a familial bond even. Armes had struck a nerve that ran deep. She was about to speak, but decided that a thinly veiled, scathing remark was not the proper response. 

“We’re taking the Bird off the list.  Michael - he’s done nothing more than creep some people out around town.  And you have here that the fingerprints were cut off.  Do you think he knew how to do that?”  Ms. Kane stopped the younger one from going off again,  which was a blessing really.

“Take Oswald off. Or Kate and I leave. Have fun figuring out how to deal with a potential serial killer on your own,” Ms. Brown said through gritted teeth. 

Armes gave a sigh that spoke of her long, long years of life. Hand reaching to scratch out two more names in brilliant red ink, she couldn’t believe she was bending before someone who was only a few years out of childhood. 

“Mr. Cobblepot and Mr. Myers are off. Are we done here, or is there going to be another tantrum over a criminal?” 

Ms. Kane stood at that,  tucking her list into a case she had brought with her.  “I think we’re done, Ms. Sallow.  And I’d prefer if you not insult either of us if you want us to help you.  Steph, ready?”

Armes watched as Ms. Brown gathered up the crime scene photographs and suspect lists into a folder, eyes hard. Daring Armes to pick a fight. What a child. Armes waved the two off, watching as the younger closed her office door with a slam that rattled the hinges. If those two were ever in her office again, it would be too soon. 

Her hands reorganized the mess littering her desk, reaching out for the latest report on the barrier. Finally, she could focus on the issues plaguing the real townspeople.

#sallow hills (event) #event002

[shirtlesssammy]

15x05: Proverbs 17:3

Then:

I’m not crying, you’re crying!

Now:

(weeping in corner ---this is Steve Yockey’s last episode) 

Black Forest, Colorado

Three young women on a Pinterest inspired LL Bean photoshoot getaway, toast to friendship and good times. Now that they’re done with college, two of them have found jobs and are on their way to subverting the new world order of underemployment. Ashley, the other friend, will be driving for Uber. 

They all hear a noise outside the tent. Julie goes for more rum and gets yanked. The other one tries closing the tent but is also yanked. Cue Ashley’s screams!

At the bunker, Sam checks his messages to Cas. He’s been texting and texting but hasn’t heard anything back. I am emotional. Dean is going to bury that shit and not even tell his brother what happened? ARGH. Sam hides his phone pretty quick so it’s obvious that he knows something isn’t right --and he doesn’t needle his brother about it so he knows something REALLY isn’t right. 

Dean’s back from a supply run and is back on his overcompensating with food bullshit. He eats a ghost pepper jerky bite and instantly regrets it. On the plus side, we get this:

Anyway, they’ve got a case. 

*Dream Vision Alert*

Lucifer!Sam sits at a table in the bunker. Dean approaches from behind, draws the Colt, asks for forgiveness, and shoots Sam in the back of the head. Lucifer!Sam doesn’t die though. The wound heals and his eyes glow red. Lucifer!Sam scoffs at the idea that the Colt would kill him, adding, “we both knew it had to end this way.” Then fire consumes Dean. 

Sam wakes in the Impala. Dean wants to know what’s up but Sam will only admit to a bad dream. 

They reach Colorado and instead of their usual routine, Dean pulls out some old school tricks: Fish and Wildlife agents. They were babies! (But this is also just such a nice way to show HOW MUCH Sam and Dean have changed over the years. The story Chuck was telling in season one has changed so much --they are not the same anymore. And while Dean continues to repress his current issues (ala Cas), it’s clear that he’s not the same.)

They go in and talk with the sheriff.

(Also, this is yet another week using an actor that has been in a previous episode of Supernatural. I realize this does happen, but this actress played Tara, the hunter that helped Dean and Crowley find Cain and the First Blade--and the Mark of Cain.) 

The sheriff doesn’t think these attacks are animal in nature. There’s one witness they can talk to. They head to the hospital to talk with her. They ask what she remembers. She flashes back to the forest. She’s running and a man/monster is chasing her. She’s reluctant to talk, but Dean assures her that they’ve heard it all. The man that killed her friends had claws and fangs. A werewolf. Dean tells the poor girl that monsters and werewolves are all real. 

Dean gets a name. Sam points out that it wasn’t a full moon the night Ashley was attacked (Dean suggests pureblood), and Sam sets off to find an address. 

They head to a cabin in the woods where Andy, the werewolf, lives with his brother, Josh. They’re isolated, reluctant to have visitors, don’t have a phone. Just as God intended. Sam and Dean leave. 

Josh yells at Andy for not killing Ashley. I’m just loling all over the place. This melodramatic crazy is TOO much. Family of werewolves that hunt people. Their dad’s dead but it’s the family business. Reluctant younger brother...

The brothers check in at the Sleepy Bear Inn. (Have we mentioned HOW MUCH WE LOVE JERRY WANEK? It’s true!) 

They’ve got Ashley under their protection. They need to go take care of “the lumberjack twins.” Sam wonders why this whole case seems too easy. Lololol. Ashley asks the brothers to stay with her until she falls asleep. Meanwhile, Andy and Josh are outside the motel ready to kill her. 

Dean and Ashley talk about hunting. Dean says he likes his job --helping people. She asks if he ever wanted to be anything else: Jimi Hendrix. He says that so quickly. It breaks me a bit. But then he toes the company line. Ashley wondering how great life would be if it was all planned out. That makes Dean turn a little green. Poor bby. 

Sam wakes Sleeping Beauty - I mean, Dean. He zonked out while Sam headed out to get food and while he was sleeping, Ashley disappeared.

Cut to Ashley who is astonishingly NOT DEAD YET. She’s tied up in a bloody slaughter room, though. The two werewolf bros burst in, mid argument. “This isn’t who we are,” Andy protests, his pure white, tucked-in sweater standing out sharply against the ACTUAL BLOOD SPATTERED WALL. (Like, seriously, guys. Get a cleaning service, at least. That can’t be sanitary.)

“This is exactly who we are,” Josh growls. Hoooo-boy.

Dean and Sam race back to the cabin and quickly follow Ashley’s screams to the slaughter room. Their approach causes the werewolves to scamper, but not very far. As they attempt to escape, the Winchesters and Ashley get ambushed in the main room. The two werewolves get the upper hand on Dean and Sam, and the werewolf with a taste for human flesh closes in on Dean, snarling. Andy picks up Dean’s dropped gun and points it at Sam. He stares between Sam and Josh in agony.

Andy shoots and kills his brother. “He turned into a monster,” Andy explains tearfully. “And I’m a monster too.” He turns the gun on himself, killing himself with one quick shot to the heart. (Jeez, always the heart in this season. It’s almost like it’s an important metaphor or something.)

“That was weird,” Dean says which is like a total UNDERSTATEMENT… But that doesn’t even come close to what happens next. Dean tries to comfort Ashley, who pushes away and…

…trips and falls right onto the antlers. BOOM. Ashley’s dead. Sam, Dean, and pretty much every single one of us viewers stares at Ashley’s body in shock and confusion. That’s…not…normal. Also, this episode is only half over. WTF?

“Well, this is a bitch,” Ashley grumbles, opening her eyes and standing up, still impaled. She cheerfully flashes her eyes white at Sam. She’s LILITH, baby! 

Lilith has clearly never made friends with the phrase “Loose lips sink ships” because she spills E V E R Y T H I N G. Chuck pulled her out of the Empty (where she was dead as a demon doornail), gave her instructions to seduce Dean post-rescue, told her to show Sam and Dean the werewolf murder/sacrifice mirror, and sent her to retrieve the magic gun: Ye Olde Equalizer. 

The Winchesters try to fight Lilith, but she blasts them into the walls, knocking Sam out. Dean promises Lilith the gun as long as Sam’s okay. Same old song and dance, my friends. But now we get the feeling that Dean’s SEEING THE SCRIPT even while he’s still feeling utterly trapped by it.

Sam has another vision while he’s power healing through his latest concussion. This time, Dean’s out to kill a human Sam. Dean, under the influence of the Mark of Cain, murders his brother with the first blade. When Sam wakes, the cabin is empty. 

In the Impala, Lilith is sitting about two feet away from the equalizer gun - still hidden in the glove box- and amusedly answers Dean’s questions. She’s massively irked that she’s back on Earth as part of Chuck’s latest story…when the story she THOUGHT her death was integral to was foiled by the Winchesters. It’s adding insult to injury, man. “Wouldn’t it be great if everything was just planned out for you?” she repeats and then laughs right in Dean’s face. Chuck fed her that line directly. 

Lilith chirpily comments on Chuck’s storytelling propensity and his hamfisted werewolf brother foreshadowing. “It always ends the same,” she tells Dean. “One brother killing the other.” 

Back at the motel, I am still UTTERLY DAMN CHARMED at the Wanek crew’s amazing work on this room. 

For Please Come Decorate My House Science:

Dean tells Lilith that she’ll NEVER get the gun and she starts to slice him bit by bit. It’s the death of a thousand cuts!

Sam breaks in and shoots Lilith in the forehead without another word. He traps her in place with a devil’s trap bullet. “I’ve got you now, my pretty!” Sam should have shouted (but didn’t). What he does do is threaten to kill her. Lilith gets pissed at this. Like, EXCUSE HER VERY MUCH, but she’s a total badass who LET Sam kill her back in season four. Don’t mess with her! 

The Winchesters flee but don’t even make it past the parking lot. Lilith zaps out to meet them. Where’s the gun??? She reasons it out, and concludes that the gun is clearly in the Impala. (Clears throat… The most important car in the universe!?) Lilith finds the equalizer pretty much right away and laughs at how damn easy it was. Which...yeah.

“We’ll get it back,” Sam snarls and without further ado, Lilith melts the heck out of the gun. Now it’s just a cooling black pool against the asphalt. Oooooookay. Plan...X?

Back at the bunker, the boys fortify themselves with liquor. Sam leaves ANOTHER voicemail for Cas. (Pardon me while I take a short break to weep and rend my clothing.) “We gave him the head’s up on Chuck and Lilith,” Dean says. “What else are we supposed to do?” Oh, I don’t know. Probably apologize? Tell him you love him and value him as a person. That sort of thing. 

Dean’s pretty shattered at the revelation that Chuck’s still pulling their strings. Thanks to Lilith, he understands that Chuck wants an ending where one of them kills the other. Sam immediately ties this into the dreams he’s been having. “You’re just telling me this, NOW?” Dean asks. And…I think that reaction is justified. Sam speculates that his equalizer wound is showing him Chuck’s endings and MAYBE a slice of Chuck’s mind. 

“This was supposed to be over,” Dean says in response. “Are we just gonna keep running in this friggin’ hamster wheel until we die? Or we get boring and he ends us?” I’m laughing at the direct commentary on how TV shows live and die but also...DEAN BBY. 

Sam thinks they can fight. Dean wants to know how the hell they’re supposed to FIGHT GOD.

______________________________

Goldilocks and the Three Quotes:

Poor, faithful Dean. We both knew it had to end this way

I’ll Freud you

Whatever you’re about to say, I want you to know that we’ve heard worse. We’ve heard weirder

I don’t lie to you. I look out for you

That’s not how this story goes

Oh, you would promise a girl the moon, Dean Winchester

Of the three potential vessels, Ashley had the best hair

God? He is not exactly Shakespeare. He’s more of a low rent Dean Koontz

Be a good boy and show me that BIG GUN, huh?

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

#spn recap #spn 15x05 #proverbs 17:3 #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural season 15

[lassieposting]

I adore your thoughts about deamon culture and upbringing. Something that’s always bugged me is that we don’t really get an insight into the culture and layout of heaven and hell or the non-humanness that makes angles and deamons. Please give more thoughts!!!

OH BOY, DO I

DEMON CULTURE HEADCANONS COMING RIGHT UP 

[1] My personal headcanon is that devil was originally a Lilim word that basically meant “warlord” - the leader of a clan with his or her own territory - and there were thousands of them, because demons lived in warring clans. Every clan had a _devil, _and they all considered themselves the ultimate authority and were constantly fighting for power. When Lucifer staged a coup and took over one of the strongest clans in the Ninth Circle, he basically went on a conquering spree, up to the point that there is now only one devil; all the other clan leaders have bent the knee to him. There’s probably either a Lilim way of distinguishing between A Devil (a warlord) and The Devil (Lucifer, King of Hell), or it’s become sort of an archaic term used only to refer to Lucifer and another name has become commonplace for your bog-standard warlord. The word then made its way to Earth both through Lucifer himself and through other demons before he outlawed possession, and developed its modern meaning from there. 

More under the cut - this is long as fuck. It’s becoming a habit.

GENETICS: 

- Demons live in one of the most inhospitable, treacherous environments of any dimension in the known multiverse. They’ve been shaped by the need to survive in their habitat. 

- Demons in general have a much higher heat resistance than humans, as well as far better low-light vision and enhanced speed, strength and endurance. 

- Hell has different habitats the same way Earth does, though, and the demons who live in the Ninth Circle (the part of Hell we see in the show, the part where Lucifer’s palace is) would have different adaptations to the demons who’ve evolved to live in the swampy marshland of the Sixth Circle (where Maze was born). 

- Demons are an R-coded species, so they have large numbers of babies, less parental care, a short gestation period and a very low survival-to-adulthood rate.  

- Because their babies have such a low survival rate, demons have very little parental attachment and they don’t form family units the way humans do (i.e. child raised by biologically related caregivers, close relationship between parents and child). 

CHILDHOOD:

- Baby demons are born already equipped with fantastic low-light vision, a full set of needle-sharp teeth, and the ability to get up and move around very shortly after birth. They’re not wholly independent - they don’t learn to talk or develop fine motor/dexterity skills until they’re older - but they are very much born armed and dangerous, which they need to be because… 

- They can and do eat their siblings in the nest, like sharks. Cannibalism is fucking rife in Hell. A large chunk of spawn are lost in their first year to fratricide/sororicide. It’s just seen as weeding out the weaklings. 

- In most clans, the spawn are raised communally in a creche run by designated nest-minders; these are usually the weakest members of the clan who would not be any use as warriors. Raising the young during their first few years of life is a fairly low-status position in society, but it does ensure that those weak demons will be fed, housed and protected - nobody wants to have to take over their job, so it’s worthwhile to keep them alive. 

- Demon spawn are…little demons. A large part of why Lucifer doesn’t like children is because of extended exposure to spawn. They completely lack empathy and social skills, so they’re loud, they bite, and a large chunk of nest-minders’ time is spent separating them when they try to kill each other. They won’t develop logic, critical thinking or their (still limited) sense of empathy until they’re a lot older. 

- Contrary to what some might believe, demons do have affectionate nicknames for their young - the sort of thing a warrior might call his trainee, or a nest-minder might call their favourite charge. The English equivalent would probably be kiddo or something, but they’d translate literally as “spawn” or “offspring”. There’s a sort of implication there that you care enough about this kid to see them as family; they can probably rely on you to protect them if they’re in danger. 

ADOLESCENCE:

- Demons don’t have a long childhood, and mostly they learn a trade by apprenticing under a professional. A would-be warrior is trained by an experienced warrior; a kid with a talent for art might apprentice under a leathercrafter; if you’re particularly intelligent and politically savvy you might get lucky and learn from your clan’s devil, if you manage to impress them. 

- A juvenile who wants to be a warrior (like Maze, for example) goes through a series of incredibly dangerous trials to become a fully-fledged adult warrior of their clan. It’s sort of like living in the Hunger Games, but, you know. Permanently. 

* Around the onset of puberty, at around 10 or 11 years old, they’re given a simple weapon and some supplies and sent out into the world by themselves to find something useful to bring back to their clan, to prove that they’re worth the time and effort it will take to train them. 

At this point, they have no formal training. They’ve got a decade or so of viciously scrapping with other youngsters in the creche for food, but they’re expected to get by mostly on their wits, their viciousness, and their willingness to kill to survive. 

There are hundreds of things that can kill a young demon alone in Hell. Demons from other clans. Heat exhaustion. Feral hellhounds. Dehydration. Volcanic eruption. Manticore. Harpy. Dragon. There’s even a chance another kid from their own clan will panic and kill first, ask questions later. 

What they bring back can be any of a number of things. Maybe some priceless gemstones that can be traded for commodities not native to their area of Hell. Maybe information about a territory ripe for overtaking. Maybe spoils taken from dead enemies from a clan yours is at war with. Whatever it is, it needs to be something the leaders of your clan will benefit from, or they might send you back out to find something better. Maze brought back Lucifer.

How impressive your gift is generally determines who you apprentice under; the kids who brought back the most impressive things will usually get sent to the clan’s top warriors. 

Only 30% or so of the kids sent out into the world will come back. The ones who didn’t clearly wouldn’t have survived training, so it wouldn’t have been worth the effort to train them in the first place. 

They’ll spend the next ten years or so (maybe more, maybe less) in training. Their mentor will teach them to fight with a whole load of different weapons, how to hunt, how to torture a captive, how to plan a battle, etc. The ones with leadership potential, training under the clan’s War Chief, also learn - on the DL, because nobody wants to get murdered - how to deal with your devil when they’re being an asshole, and how to bring them round to your way of thinking when their plan for a war clashes with yours. 

In bigger clans, at the end of their training, each warrior’s trainees get put in an arena to fight to the death. Of each class, only the last one standing actually becomes a warrior. Despite the immense amount of lives lost in childhood, demons breed so prolifically that plenty survive to adulthood. 

ADULTHOOD:

- Adult demons often wear identification marks, usually on their faces, to show whereabouts they’re from, which clan they belong to, and what rank they are if they have one. Some clans (like Maze’s) use face paint, others prefer tattoos, still others use scarification or branding. You don’t get to wear them until you’ve proved yourself, so it’s a great honour for a warrior to finally get their stripes.

- This helps establish social order - who you can and can’t flirt with, who you should and shouldn’t pick on, etc. If you’re a humble furs trader, you really don’t want to start a fight with a visiting devil over a casual insult to your work; you’ll get smoked. But fortunately for you, her face markings tell you who she is, so you keep your mouth shut. 

- Demons are promiscuous as fuck and don’t really go in for monogamy. It happens occasionally, but it’s definitely not the social norm. While every demon spawn knows who their mother is, it’s very common to have multiple potential fathers. 

- Demons can and do fall in love. They’re not very open about it, and there’s no way to say “I love you” in Lilim. Any demonstration of love is a demonstration of weakness, and in Hell any weakness will be used against you. Long term relationships between demons tend to look a lot like Lucifer and Maze - ride-or-die friends who hang out naked and have each other’s back against outside danger regardless of the issues they’re having with each other. 

OLD AGE:

- A demon who’s too old to battle anymore but was once a mighty warrior can still command a huge amount of respect; many become advisors to the clan devil - especially if he’s young; Lucifer had to lean on very experienced older advisors as a young king consolidating his power - or train the most promising up-and-comers. 

- Demons can and do grieve, but it’s usually expressed as a roaring rampage of revenge against whoever killed your ally. If something happened to Maze, for example, Lucifer wouldn’t cry or get sentimental; he’d cause so much carnage they’d be talking about it for millennia. By demon standards that would be the most touching tribute he could give her tbh. 

- After someone dies, their clan usually eats them - in a world where the creatures you eat can kill you just as easily as be killed by you, meat is meat and a meal you don’t have to work for is a gift. (This is why Mom asked if humans eat their own when She first came to Earth. Hell was a horrible surprise for both of them for a variety of reasons, and this is definitely one of them.) To humans, this is horrifying; to demons, it’s not even something to bat an eyelid at. 

- Devils don’t often get old. They live in a cutthroat world of power games and ambition, and everyone wants their spot. Devils get to the top by being especially cunning or vicious or physically powerful, and once the thing keeping them there starts to run down, they’re often killed and replaced by someone stronger. It’s just as common for your allies to turn on you as your enemies, so you’re watching your back constantly, never truly safe, always reading into every interaction for signs of danger. There’s a reason Lucifer doesn’t trust easy. As an angel he’s stronger than practically all demons, but Hell-forged steel can kill him; all it would take is for him to let his guard down just a little bit too much at the wrong moment. 

#1billsookie #lucifer on netflix #lucifer on fox #lucifer in hell #demon culture #DO YALL KNOW HOW MANY FEELINGS I HAVE ABOUT LUCIFER + DEMON CULTURE #SO MANY #THANK U FOR ASKING IM DELIGHTED U ENJOY MY IDEAS #ALKDFHSLDKFHDLKFH #shoutout to everyone who notices the stepdevil reference #lucifer headcanons

[dothwrites]

spn advent calendar--angel

ahhhhh i’m so behind on these, i’m sorrrryyyyyyy =) have some light smut and humor to make up for it

{Read on Ao3}

---

Of all Christmas tasks set before him, Castiel minds decorating the Christmas tree the least. It's the kind of repetitive task that he enjoys, one that has a clear beginning and end, and one where he can see the evidence of his progress with every step he takes. Not to mention that when Dean decorates, he hums Christmas music under his breath. Hearing Away in a Manger in Dean's low voice is one of the best rewards Castiel can think of.

Also, they're at Dean's place, which means, blessedly, no Gabriel.

Castiel might camp out here for days.

"Looking good babe," Dean mutters as he takes a step back. "There's an empty space over here; can you grab something to fill it up?"

Castiel reaches into the box and passes Dean an ornament. He's much more interested by the look of concentration twisting Dean's face into the tiniest pout. A thin line appears between Dean's eyebrows, like someone took a pencil and flicked it over the skin. His lower lips sticks out and, if he's thinking hard like he is right at this moment, his chin quivers just a little. As he watches the furrow between Dean's brows deepen, Castiel can see, with startling clarity, what Dean will look like in fifteen years.

It's a beautiful sight, and one that Castiel wants to see with all his heart.

So he doesn't roll his eyes when Dean tells him that he's put an ornament in the wrong place. He doesn't wrinkle his nose in disgust when Dean shows him an ornament that Sam and Jess brought back from a business trip to Salt Lake City (Look Cas, it's made out of salt! You can lick it! Lick it Cas, come on, lick it!). He doesn't comment when Dean goes and tweaks the branches to what he considers optimal angles.

In fact, the only thing that can break his mood is the monstrosity that Dean pulls out of the bottom of the box. Dean holds it aloft like he's starring in the shittiest remake of the Lion King. If he tries hard enough, Castiel can almost hear the swelling chorus as Dean holds up the tree-topper for his perusal. "Look at him," Dean breathes. His eyes are actually misty as he stares at the object in his hands.

It's an angel. But no regular angel with their vapid smiles and empty cornflower blue eyes and cheap blonde polyester hair. No, this is an angel that God looked at and thought better of, this is an angel who might have fallen with Lucifer but got put in the back of the picture lineup with a blurry Also Pictured caption to try and distance them from the rest of the team. This angel either got into too many fights or not enough, depending on how you look at the sneer on their face. This angel is a fan of bargain shopping at the Goodwill and considers $25 a steep price for a new suit.

The angel's gender is indeterminate, and Castiel's a fan of eradicating the superfluous binaries of society, but it's disturbing, because he can tell that the artist who designed this angel had a clear gender in mind when they placed the facial features on the tiny ceramic head. Castiel just can't figure out which gender was intended, which leaves the angel with an uncanny valley sort of ambiguity in their expressions.

Forget Elf on the Shelf. If this demon is going to be sitting in Dean's house for the rest of December, Castiel will donate money to any charity he can find, vacuum daily, and even give Gabriel whatever Gabriel's twisted little heart desires. That angel looks into his eyes and knows his sins.

"Look at him!" Dean says, as he brandishes the angel towards Castiel. Castiel takes an inoffensive step backwards, away from the meanly squinted eyes and goading leer.

"I am," Castiel says, carefully, because the last time he inadvertently insulted one of Dean's decorations it turned out to be a timeless, priceless relic from his mother. But surely, surely Mary Winchester would have had better taste than to put this monstrosity on her tree? "It's, ah...unique," Castiel says, trying for something diplomatic.

"Jo picked him up at a yard sale four years ago. He's the best." Dean has the shit-eating grin on his face that says he's perfectly aware of what he's doing. It invites Castiel in on the joke, and after so many years of being on the outside, he relishes the opportunity.

"And you kept him because...There's an ancient curse and when you picked it up it activated, thus ensuring that you were stuck with this creature until your untimely death?"

Dean's expression twists into something mingling confusion, exasperation, and fondness. "No, you weirdo. It's funny."

"It's funny. You think that horrific little thing is...funny?"

"Of course." Dean gives the angel a little threatening shake, which will undoubtedly haunt Castiel's nightmares for days to come. "Look at him." Dean takes his own advice and then looks at Castiel. Castiel very much distrusts the look dawning over Dean's face, and his doubts are validated when Dean says, "You know, he kind of looks like you."

Had Dean slapped him across the face, Castiel could not have been more offended or shocked. He looks from the angel's sneer, to Dean, and back again. Has his boyfriend, the man he loves, the man he contemplates raising children with one day, gone completely insane?

"You know," Dean says. His voice is a little too even, his face too impassive. As Castiel watches, the corner of his mouth wobbles and twitches. "You have the same, uh...the same eyes. And the same...the same nose. And he's an angel, and you're named after an angel, so...You're like twins."

By now, Dean's mouth is performing a series of fascinating contortions to remain stationary. Several hitching breaths puff out of his nose and as Castiel continues to stare, a strangled cough rasps out of his throat.

"Twins," Castiel finally says, and it's that single word that sends Dean in paroxysms of laughter.

Dean laughs a lot, but these laughs are Castiel's favorites--big belly laughs that come from deep within Dean, that leave him shaking and slapping at his thighs. He reaches out for Castiel, for balance or support, Castiel doesn't know, but it's nice either way. Dean wheezes and Castiel is surprised to see that there are actual tears welling in the corners of his eyes. "Ah Jesus, Cas," Dean chokes out around his laughter. "Come on. Put him on top of the tree. Make friends with him." Dean pushes the angel into Castiel's face, close enough that his eyes cross as he tries to keep eye contact with the gremlin.

"You're very lucky that I love you," Castiel owns, gingerly accepting the angel from Dean. Part of him wants to refuse, but he's too familiar with the look on Dean's face. This ends with either Castiel storming off, or Castiel putting the dreadful angel on top of the tree. Between the two of them, Castiel knows which one he would prefer.

He tries not to look at the angel as he stretches towards the top of the tree. He can't believe that he's going to have to look at this creature every time he comes to Dean's house over the next month. Between the angel at Dean's house and the Gabriel at his, Castiel doesn't know which is worse.

"Mm, that's it baby. Right up on top." Dean crowds behind him, hands on Castiel's hips. Presumably it's to steady him, but, as Dean's thumbs stroke over the thin sliver of skin revealed, Castiel suspects an ulterior motive. "Little bit farther...little more..." Dean turns his head to nuzzle in at Castiel's neck.

Despite the distractions, Castiel manages to place the angel close to the top of the tree. He rocks back to examine his handiwork, which is exactly what Dean wanted. His arms wrap around Castiel's chest, pulling him closer.

He places a series of careful nips down Castiel's neck, nosing underneath the collar of his shirt to the skin underneath. "Dean," Castiel pants, as Dean's nips grow a little more insistent, the wandering of his hands a little more purposeful. "Dean."

"Yeah?" Dean walks them backwards until they're toppling over on the couch in a tangle of limbs. Castiel is fairly certain that his elbow ends up in the vicinity of Dean's stomach, but Dean doesn't complain. Instead, Dean keeps on rolling until he has Castiel on top of him, hands sneaking under the waistband of Castiel's jeans to grope at skin. "What do you want?" Dean asks, craning his head upwards to nip at the column of Castiel's throat.

"To go somewhere else?" Castiel asks, even as his hips roll down into Dean's. "Somewhere that we're not being watched?"

"Aw, you don't like an audience?" Dean teases, working at Castiel's belt. "Don't like your twin seeing what you get up to?" He says that just as his hand works its way into Castiel's boxers and wraps around his half-hard dick.

"You--" Castiel gasps, bucking into Dean's grip, even as he glares down at him. "You can't think of a better mood setter?"

"Maybe after Christmas I won't even put it away," Dean teases, eyes sparkling wickedly as he works over Castiel. "Maybe I'll keep him in the bedroom. Right on the table." Dean kisses him, hot and insistent. His hand works faster now, its way eased by the precome Castiel is leaking. Dean pulls back, a wide grin on his face. "Maybe he can hold our lube!"

It's unfortunate that Dean knows which of his buttons to push. Unfortunate, because Dean chooses to push them all almost immediately after saying that horrific sentence. Helpless under the onslaught, Castiel comes into Dean's hand with a low, long groan.

Dean waits for a few seconds, long enough so that Castiel can catch his breath, and then he's grinning so wide his face threatens to split. "That what gets you hot?" he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Cas' mouth. "Angel holding our lube? Blessing our fornication? Is there an angel of fornication? Can we name our angel that?"

Dean's teasing stops when Castiel wraps a single, sure fist around him and starts stroking with purposeful motions. If Dean knows all of his buttons, then he knows all of Dean's, and it's not long before Dean is falling apart underneath him, turning his head to gasp his release into the arm of the couch.

"If you ever bring that hellish thing into our bedroom," Castiel says, punctuating his words with small kisses to Dean's cheeks and forehead, "I promise you that it will find a new home housed up your ass."

---

The angel mysteriously is turned around to face the wall the next morning. Dean refuses to explain why, leaving Castiel to assume one of two conclusions:

1) The angel is actually possessed and will, in short order, make good on its plans to murder both him and Dean in a way that will leave law enforcement baffled for years to come,

or

2) Dean is actually a kind and caring individual who takes his wishes into account.

Dean is a kind, caring, compassionate partner who Castiel knows would walk through fire if he asked him to. But between the two options, Castiel's more willing to believe the former.

---

Tags--if you want to be added/removed, just holler at me!

@screamatthescreen @queenvee08 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @dizzypinwheel @homeriics @stay-inside-the-salt-ring @deansbff @spaceshipkat @rogerslouis 

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #spnadventcalendar2019 #castiel #dean winchester #christmas fluff #dothwrites #i'm so far behind it's not even funny

[shirtlesssammy]

5x22: Swan Song

In light of recent news, we thought we’d finally tackle what might have been the end (until someone went and made a demon deal, giving us 10 more years of our beloved show!) It’s weird watching this and seeing what a bummer this all would have been if it had ended like this. Sure, it was epic, but I guess I’m a sucker for a happy ending when it’s about characters I’ve come to love more than my own family. I’m also going to point to this Twitter thread about good and bad show endings. Swan Song wouldn’t have been bad had we only had TFW for five years, but we’ve watched them grow over 15 years now, and I want to see them get some peace. (Thanks to all the meta writers for throwing out the much needed hope!)

The Road So Far:

Carry on my wayward son...

Now:

We open with Chuck Shurley narrating the origin story of the most important object in pretty much the entire universe. And I’m literally two minutes into rewatching this episode and already crying. He’s tells us about it’s original owner, Sal Moriarty. (Oh, Eric Kripke, of course it was.)

And how, after he died, it ended up in the hands of John Winchester, after some persuasion by his time traveling son.

Fade to Sam and Dean in Bobby’s salvage yard, drinking beer from the little green cooler. Dean tells Sam that he’s “in” on having Sam say yes to the devil.

Dean acknowledges that Sam can make his own choices. “Watching out for you? That’s kinda been my job, you know? More than that, it’s kinda who I am.” Seeing this image Dean has of himself shift to NOT be this is really great. Dean asks if this is really what Sam wants. Sam is more resigned than enthusiastic to the plan, obv.

Cut to Team Free Will collecting demon blood like they’re stocking up for the apocalypse (err..). Dean confers with Bobby about Lucifer’s location and they determine it is Detroit.

Once on the road, Dean can’t help but notice what a cute, slumbering angel he has in the backseat. Sam logically points out that angels don’t sleep. They talk about their plan, the odds of it working, and the reality that Sam won’t be coming back from the cage. Sam makes Dean promise that he won’t try and get him back. Dean balks at the idea. Sam makes him promise that he’ll find Lisa and live “some normal, apple pie life.”

Once in Detroit, the group finds many demons out and about. Sam and Bobby have a moment. Then Sam asks Cas to “take care of these guys” for him. Cas tells Sam that it isn’t possible. Sam asks him to humor him. Cas catches on just a little too late that he’s supposed to lie. Oh Cas, you beautiful, literal goob.

Sam then gets to the business of downing four gallons of demon blood. With that done, Sam and Dean turn themselves in to the demons, who bring them to Lucifer.

Chuck continues his monologue on the Impala. He mentions the unimportant features, and then mentions the important features: Sam’s green army man, Dean’s legos, Sam and Dean’s initials. The devil doesn’t know or care about their car.

The devil wants to know what Sam and Dean are up to.

Sam says he’s ready to say “yes.” The devil reveals that he knows they have the rings that will reopen the Cage. Fuuuuuck. Sam tries bluffing, but the jig is up. Dean’s look of anguish is devastating. Lucifer likes his odds on the battle that will happen in Sam’s head. He agrees. Before Dean can do anything more than say “No”, Sam says “Yes.”

A bright light flashes and Dean finds Sam knocked out on the floor. He throws the rings on the wall and gets to opening the door to Hell. Sammy awakens and Dean helps him towards the portal. Only, PSYCH! It’s actually Lucifer. Sam didn’t stand a chance against him. He closes the portal and takes the rings.  

Once away from Dean, Lucifer has a moment with Sam, where Sam makes it very clear that he’s not done fighting.

Lucifer appeals to Sam’s worst feelings about himself, but says he wants Sam to be happy. Sam doesn’t want anything from Lucifer. Lucifer then points out the group of demons behind him. They’re all people Sam knew in his life --they were all watching Sam for Azazel.

Dean, Bobby, and Cas are watching the fallout to Sam saying yes.

Shallow Sidenote:

(Those curls!)

Cas suggests they “imbibe copious quantities of alcohol and just wait for the inevitable blast wave.” GRIM, DUDE --but he ain’t wrong. Cas doesn’t think there’s any way they can stop Lucifer and Michael meeting. Dean is not giving up (and he’s desperate guys -his insult at Cas was way harsh). Bobby’s even resigned to the reality of the situation.

We cut back to the room full of demons, but they’re all dead this time. Lucifer smugly looks at Sam in the mirror. “We having fun yet?” Ugh, Lucifer, you’re the worst.

Chuck’s narration cuts in like a road narrative, all misty colored and gentle. “They could go anywhere and do anything. They drove one thousand miles for an Ozzy show, two days for a Jayhawks game. And when it was clear, they'd park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood, and watch the stars for hours without saying a word.” This beautiful interlude dissipates with a phone call and Chuck picks up, expecting Mistress Magda. (Eyebrow waggle.) LOL, nope! It’s Dean.

“You got a real virgin / hooker thing going on, don’t you?” Dean observes. Excuse me while I laugh forever over this line, with the confirmed Chuck-is-God context. Dean wants to know where the fight will happen. It’ll be at Stull Cemetery at high noon, just outside of Lawrence. Chuck doesn’t have any more useful information than that…but it’s a place to start.

Bobby and Cas try to prevent Dean from heading to Lawrence to intervene in the upcoming archangel showdown but their arguments are weak sauce compared to Dean’s need to save Sam. He heads off alone to Stull.

The cemetery is wispy with mist and bedraggled with age. Michael (wearing Adam) flaps in to greet Lucifer. (Side note: Saying that Michael is “wearing Adam” sounds like Adam is a fashion designer. In this epic showdown, Michael has been dressed by the FABULOUS Adam!) 

Both brothers seem regretful, but ultimately resolved. Lucifer questions why they’re fighting if neither of them wants to do it. Michael trots out the old “duty” argument. Lucifer offers an alternative: “We’re going to kill each other. And for what? One of Dad's tests. And we don't even know the answer. We're brothers. Let's just walk off the chessboard.” Hey, guys. It’s a really good point. It’s also an intentional mirror of Dean, Sam, and John that I refuse to stop getting emotional about.

Michael’s tempted for a moment. Damn serpent!! “I’m a good son,” Michael decides. “You haven't changed a bit, little brother. Always blaming everybody but yourself.” This is also an excellent fucking point, man. The rumble’s still on.

Speaking of rumbling, Dean approaches in Baby with Def Leppard cranked up loud. FUCK YEAH. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” To quote Tess McGreer’s Twitter feed: MY SON!

Michael’s not into the whole threesome battle, and heads threateningly towards Dean when the camera cuts suddenly to Castiel and Bobby who have just flapped in. “Hey, assbutt!” Castiel shouts before lobbing a holy oil molotov cocktail at Michael. Bless.

Michael poofs away. “You got your five minutes,” Cas says to Dean just before Lucifer explodes him. NOOOOOOO

Lucifer’s pretty crabby by this point, so when Dean tries to verbally reach Sam again, he hurls Dean into Baby. Bobby shoots futilely at Lucifer before Lucifer snaps his neck. NOOOOOOO

“Sammy, are you in there?” Dean asks desperately. PROTECT.

“He’s gonna feel the snap of your bones,” Lucifer promises Dean. He’s gonna kill Dean slow. I’d chortle over the classic villain “kill you slow” trope except that Lucifer is beating Dean bloody and it’s really, really not funny.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” a very battered Dean tells Sam, leaving me to stare into space thinking about how he must have said this on quiet nights, comforting young Sam over nightmares or monster-under-the-bed scares.

Lucifer draws his fist back to deliver a killing blow as Dean slumps in his hold. His eye catches on a little army man stuck in the ashtray and we get a montage of Dean and Sam moments set to the soundtrack of howling wind. Sam’s fist uncurls.

And that’s it. Sam takes control. “I’ve got him,” Sam tells Dean. He hauls the rings out of his pocket and tosses them to the ground, chanting the incantation to open the cage. Dean sprawls on the ground, leaning against the car, bloodied and broken. Sam panics at the threshold to the cage when Michael!Adam appears. 

Sam takes one more look at Dean before he opens his arms wide, ready to plunge into the cage. As Michael tries to haul him back, Sam pulls him in as well.

With a blast, the cage closes and Dean is left alone in the quiet, wind-swept cemetery.

He looks up a while later to find Castiel standing behind him, whole and unblemished. “You’re alive?” Dean asks.

“I’m better than that,” Cas says and…okay. He heals Dean with a touch, then brings Bobby back to life. Good job, Cas bby!

“Endings are hard,” Chuck says, and the scene switches to his office once again. “Endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There's always gonna be holes. And since it's the ending, it's all supposed to add up to something. I'm telling you, they're a raging pain in the ass.”

We switch back to Dean and Cas in the Impala. Cas is headed back to Heaven to try to bring order upstairs. He’s ready to continue his heavenly mission, but Dean’s pissed off. “Where’s my grand prize? All I got is my brother in a hole.”

“You got what you asked for, Dean. No paradise. No hell. Just more of the same. I mean it, Dean. What would you rather have? Peace or freedom?”

Cas flaps out. “You really suck at goodbyes, you know that?” Always, Dean. Always.

Dean says a temporary farewell to Bobby, then shows up at Lisa’s house, CLEARLY TRAUMATIZED. What a non-booty booty call. Lisa reads the room and pulls him in for a comforting hug. (Stay tuned for my 8,000 word essay on why Lisa is the best.) 

“Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny, and God himself, they made their own choice. They chose family. And, well... isn't that kinda the whole point? No doubt endings are hard. But then again nothing ever really ends, does it?” Chuck vanishes, which is apparently his equivalent of dropping the mic.

Then, the show proceeds to not end, in the best way. Dean is still lost at Lisa’s, putting on a “normal” front. And outside, Sam appears under a flickering street light. To be continued…for ten more seasons. <3

Quoting is Hard:

This 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car – no, the most important object – in pretty much the whole universe.

As far as foreboding goes, it's a little light in the loafers.

Ain’t he a little angel?

I told you. This would always happen in Detroit.

MFEO. Literally.

I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol and just wait for the inevitable blast wave.

Cas, are you God?

Every fiber he's got, wants to die, or find a way to bring Sam back. But he isn't gonna do either. Because he made a promise.

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