Title: Hiatus: Five Moments Between Now and Then Fandom: SPN Spoilers: Up to the S5 finale. Warnings: My knowledge of SPN canon is sketchy. Also, people have probably posted about two thousand fics in this vein during the last couple of days.
I just woke up from a dream. There were renegade speedster angels, my new place of work was actually a sort of a Wolfram & Hart of/by angels, and I said over the PA system in the language of the renegade angels that the building was about to be hit by a rocket, so the renegade angel mole ran away and we could identify and pursue him to a conference room (I remember yelling "Stop there, I bind you" or something similar, fully knowing that it wasn't going to work.)
(SPN's) Cass was one of the first that caught up with the mole, but the mole (who was the lead tester at my new job) pushed him over a table, put a crucifix over Cass' forehead, and said "Do you think God is going to help the one who got his favorite angel killed?" Cass said, and I quote, "God can bite my ass."
And then Cass burst into flames, and I thought "not_sally isn't going to be happy."
I think my favorite thing in any given SPN episode has to be Dean freaking out. And, boy, did he have a freakout-worthy sitdown this episode.
Did anyone else get a very strong "House" vibe from Pestilence? Beyond the obvious similarity of topic, the language sounded very similar — I began watching that part wanting a House-vs-Pestilence crossover, but ended up wondering if Gregory isn't Pestilence's rebellious son (even if House doesn't know it — after all, it's canon that his father wasn't his biological father, and, who knows...).
Also, and for redundancy in the record, Cass is a complete BAMF.
Haven't written anything in far too long, and I'm getting itchy. Hence this short piece of nonsense.
The Pan-Fandom Tolkienite Setup
They came from the night, the exiled from Day, the drinkers of blood, the cursed to live. Because they had no love for humankind, but they lived on Earth.
They searched for God, the atheist, the precise, the clockwork-minded Detectives, with no faith at all but with the more powerful Clue. They wrote their souls out, the Writers and Liars, for oblivion would be worse than death.
The toiled in their labs, the Mad of the Smart, repurposing Armageddon weapons to save the world. It would end by their pride, or by their pride be saved, and they cared little for the side as long as it was War.
And Lucifer killed them all. The Monsters, the Heroes, the Fated and Doomed. The one-man armies and the armies behold to no-one. In a single day of carnage Lucifer killed them all. In a single day, the last.
In that day the world's Finders found God teaching Salsa in a Mexican bar. In that last hour of that last day, as Time and song were winding down, the Biggest Con was sprung on the least likely mark. She took the bet, choosing to lose, and asked for Light.
And there was Light, but no God, no miracles, no Fallen One this time, and Heaven was just the sky, and yesterday, thirteen billion years later, mostly everybody came back to life.