(no subject)

[elinorwise]

Sam waves and the demons fall into paroxysms of deafening joy. He glances at Dean uncertainly but Dean seems unfazed. He moves to the edge of the balcony and raises his hands for quiet, which he gets, sort of; the demons seem to find it hard to be quiet when Sam is standing there.
"This is your Boy King," he shouts to the demons. "This is your messiah. This is your reason for fucking existing!"
The demons scream and cheer.
"We're gonna save the goddamn world!" Dean shouts.
The demons drop sharply into confused silence.
"Because he's the Antichrist and he can bitchslap you out of existence without even thinking about it if you don't like it!"

[...]
He moves before Sam, raises the crown up – and Sam is unable to take his eyes off him as he does it - and then he sets it carefully on Sam's head.
The instant it touches Sam, it happens. He is aware of all Hell, of Lucifer breathing from its very foundations, of every single demon and how easily he could make them bend before him, of the angel song that penetrates even here. He is aware of Lucifer saying his name, welcoming him.
Everything flies away from him, every detail clear to him and insignificant. He knows what God's face looked like when Lucifer defied Him, he knows how far the universe stretches, he knows how to take a handful of dust and breathe life into it. And he knows the thrum of the Impala as it speeds along the highway and the taste of soda warmed by the sun.
Sam has Hell, he has Lucifer, he has angels, he has a world to save.
"Hail to the king, baby," Dean says and climbs into his lap.
And he has Dean.

БЕСТ ЭНДИНГ ЭВЕР  Нарекаю тебя каноном Канонизирую этот фик в своем сердце и отныне буду считать, что как-то так оно всё и вышло))
The incestuous courtship of the antichrist's bride by fleshflutter
Оригинал записи на Дыбре