oh mjy gjkkjgfuckignkfg gofdd
dfffkjh yes an au where lucifer gets sam’s body but instead of using it to destroy the planet he uses it to be FAAAAAABULOUS~
What if Satan was like Jacobim Mugatu from Zoolander omg
why do i want to draw this help me
Really? Really….girl….those shoes?
Two brothers: one of them wants to take you apart.
Two brothers: one of them wants to put you back together.
It’s time to choose sides now.
The stitches or the devouring mouth?
You want an alibi? You don’t get an alibi, you get two brothers. […] Pick one.
This is how you make the meaning, you take two things and try to define the space between them. (x)
One, the younger, initially the rebel. Sam, the boy with the demon’s blood. Sam, who craved a normal life, clawed his way towards the light of it, because somewhere down deep he was terrified by how good he was at the hunt. Normalcy fell apart. Normalcy burned on the ceiling, burned in his veins, burned in a cage. He is the hunt, the head, both violence and salvation. He clings to his faith in desperation, as it is often the only veil separating him from despair.
One, the older, initially the good soldier. Dean, the righteous man. Dean, who craved the hunt, who clawed his way into the darkness of it, because somewhere down deep he was terrified by how much he wanted a normal, picket fence, apple pie life. But even the hunt fell apart. The hunt twisted its knives back into him, twisted his brother’s body on the ground, twisted him into torturing souls in the pit, twisted an angel fallen from grace. He is the hunt, the heart, but sometimes he worries that heart is running on empty. He searches for faith and finds betrayal, he searches for fire and freezes instead.
They are Heaven and Hell, oil and water. They are human in a world of inhuman existences.
How do you simply explain them? They are.
The one where Lucifer defends Sam time and again the way Castiel defends Dean. Just. Y’know. With a little more blood involved.
Sam is his perfect vessel. Made for him, by his Father, the same way Dean was made for Michael—or maybe for Castiel. It gets a little murky these days. Following Sam is easy enough, even with the angelic marks carved into his ribs, because markings or not, Sam’s soul calls to Lucifer more strongly than any binding magic little brother Castiel could ever muster up. It’s no coincidence that he keeps showing up on their tails, mere days or hours or minutes after the brothers Winchester have left town. Sometimes he arrives before they do, because he’s overheard them or listened in on Heaven’s complaints about them, and does a little cleanup before they get to town.
It’s easy work; he made demons and he can unmake them just as easily, with a thought, a breath, an idea. They call him Father and he sneers at them before he tears them to shreds, neither sparing a thought for their blind devotion nor the terror and agony of their vessels.
It occurs to him, sometimes, that he has made demons the same sort of creature that his Father made angels, rather than the corrupted opposite he tried for. Devotion, obedience, fear mixed with some kind of love. Disgusted, he tears out the throat of every child who comes to him for a week before the carnage starts to bore him and Sam cries out for him, quite unconsciously, four hundred miles and a gathering of pagan gods away.
Odin is stronger than any demon, Ganesha more unrelenting, but they are, like Lucifer himself, creatures of faith, and the faith that once restored them is no longer what it was. Lucifer takes pride in humanity’s fear of Hell, the spray of blood that coats his skin, and the way the remaining gods slink away, leaving Sam Winchester lying stunned and insensible on the floor but otherwise unharmed.
Castiel stumbles in a moment later, looking harried and Lucifer tosses him a mocking little salute, a little something he’s picked up from observing Dean as much as he watches over Sam. His brother startles and postures, six wings spread into air human eyes can’t see through in a panicked and desperate gesture of protection. Lucifer smiles and turns, disinterested, content to let Castiel tend to clean up.
The important work is done, after all. He sees no reason to stay.
I love everything about this post.