#especially about Crowley's powers dwindling

[crowley-the-1-true-king-of-hell]

TV Tropes for Castiel

Just a warning for Cas’ TV tropes page that since it tries to fit events into the nearest equivalent trope, it can oversimplify complicated situations to make it fit. This means that some tropes on Cas’ TV tropes page may be offensive to readers. But it’s less offensive when you realize it’s just the way they have to format it. For example on Cas’ page Sam and Dean are mentioned as the Big Bad Duumvirates of season 10. We know that the circumstances are more complicated than that ofc, but it just shines a light on how the website is formatted and why “bad” tropes shouldn’t be taken too personally  Here are the ones I love

Ambiguous Innocence: Castiel appears to be innocent, aloof, and unaware of a lot of different things (especially regarding humanity, human life, or customs), but he is actually a very strong warrior and incredibly badass. He is definitely capable of being very ruthless when he wants to be.

Angelic Beauty: Has a 'dreamy' look about him, especially in his introduction where Castiel looks at a (terrified) Dean with wide-eyed innocence.

Badass Adorable: Castiel is rather quirky, socially awkward, and has poor social skills. All of these traits contribute to Castiel's adorableness. But at the same time, he is very powerful and can kick major ass if you cross him.

Badass in Charge: Prior to coming down to Earth, Castiel was the captain of a garrison of angels.

Badass Normal: When Castiel's angelic abilities dwindle to nothing during his estrangement from Heaven in Season 5, he switches to knives, guns, and the odd Molotov cocktail to get the job done. He spends part of Season 9 fully human. That doesn't stop him from cutting his hand open with a rose's thorns while being threatened by an angel to try and angel-banish the enemy.

Beware the Nice Ones: Castiel may seem amusingly out of touch much of the time, but you really don't want to make him angry. Hell, not even Castiel's True Companions (i.e. Sam and Dean) are safe from this. At a perceived betrayal in "Point of No Return," Cas beats Dean to within an inch of his life. Cas going off the rails is not a pretty sight.

Big Damn Heroes: Often saves Sam and Dean when they are completely helpless and hopeless. Crowley even lampshades this in "Caged Heat.”

Crowley: (after Castiel suddenly appears in the room when he's about to kill Meg) Castiel. You the cavalry now?

Big Entrance: Castiel's first scene. All the lights start flickering and bursting, the roof starts rattling, the barn door breaks open, and Castiel casually strolls in amidst the howling wind and sparks.

Dean: (panicked) Who are you? Castiel: I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.

Blood Magic: Castiel's blood is particularly valuable, as it's needed to kill Dick Roman in Season 7.

Brought Down to Badass: Although Castiel lost most of his angel powers over the course of the fifth season, he still managed to kick a fair amount of ass via ingenuity and good old-fashioned nerve.

Bunny-Ears Lawyer: Very quirky and awkward even by the standards of the other angels, but is nevertheless skilled enough to be in charge of a squadron of angels by the show's beginning and to be the one to rescue Dean's soul from Hell.

The Captain: Castiel was The Leader of his garrison.

Deadpan Snarker: He actually gets better at sarcasm the longer he spends time on Earth. He learns to be very subtle about it

Castiel: Sam, Dean, I have to get back. Dean: You're leaving?  Castiel: I'm in the middle of a civil war.  Dean: You better tear the attic up, find something to help Sam.

Castiel: Of course. Your problems always come first. (departs)

Did You Just Flip Off Cthulhu?: His line to Raphael in "Free to Be You and Me" as he and Dean are leaving the house where Raphael is trapped inside a ring of holy fire. 

Raphael: Do not leave me here, Castiel. I will find you.

Castiel: Maybe one day. But today, you're my little bitch. 

Does something equally badass while being tortured by Naomi: 

Castiel:

In the words of an old friend, bite me.

Establishing Character Moment: Castiel gets a good one. He uses telekinesis (or possibly just the power of his presence) to break open the sealed door of the barn where Dean and Bobby are waiting, and then proceeds to walk slowly over the line of salt (which would keep a demon or normal spirit out) and past every single binding circle Bobby drew without breaking stride while Dean and Bobby repeatedly shoot him, the entire building is shaking, and the overhead lights are exploding(the last two are direct results of his presence). Despite the chaos, he never flinches or even blinks, only seeming mildly curious about the sigils on the walls.

The Hero: Can arguably be considered this for Season 10, as the final episodes of Season 10 make it clear that Sam and Dean are the Big Bad Duumvirate of the season in their quest to get rid of the Mark of Cain. Castiel is barely involved in that plot, until the final episodes, where he has a confrontation with Dean after he sees how much the Mark of Cain has influenced Dean. He's also the only member of the main cast of that season who seems to have any sense of morality.

Hero of Another Story: In Season 6, after the Apocalypse was over, Castiel was in charge of trying to hold Heaven together and leading his own faction of angels against Raphael and his followers, who were still hell-bent on re-starting the Apocalypse while Hell was in disarray. Frankly, the depiction of such a war would've been beyond the writers and the special effects team, so it took place mostly off-screen.

The Leader: Of the Garrison. Also the leader of the rebel angels.

Meaningful Name: Cas is the root word meaning "to fall" and -iel is a suffix meaning "from God." To fall from God.

Only Sane Employee: In Season 6, he's the only angel making an effort to prevent Raphael from restarting the Apocalypse on Earth. To another angel in "The Third Man"

Castiel: Why won't any of you listen!?

Papa Wolf: In Season 10, Castiel starts trying to connect with his vessel's daughter, Claire, feeling guilty for taking her father away, and he quickly develops a fatherly protectiveness toward her. Also towards Jack, starting before the Nephilim was born. And although Jack has implied that he regards all three original members of Team Free Will as his adopted fathers, Cas has been the most overtly paternal in his dealings with Jack and the only one whose fatherly protectiveness and devotion never wavered even after Jack lost his soul and (accidentally) killed Mary.

The Strategist: Often relies on his military/tactical intelligence as much as his physical strength and powers, allowing him to scheme his way out of many a sticky situation where brute force just isn't enough.(when discussing his plan to find God): This is not a theological issue. It's strategic.

[demonologist-in-denim]

One of the Boys!Crowley

After Crowley closes the Gates and joins the Winchesters permanently, no one – not even Crowley himself – knows if he’ll ever complete the cure. He’s “cured” from the demon trials years ago in the sense that the scaring on his soul from his time on the rack and in service to Hell has healed or receded. He is no longer numb to the joy and suffering of others, his own emotions are no longer muted or twisted by his demonic essence. He is reformed in the sense that while he is still a demon, his actions and choices – if not his words – reflect his rising humanity rather than his lingering demonic impulses.

And as the years pass, the longer Hell remains closed, the more his powers diminish. Sometimes, he misses his once-limitless capacity: near-invincibility, conditional immortality, the ability to reshape the world with a snap of his fingers. But there is also something solid and more present, something of worth, in the limited and the temporary. Something beautiful and fragile and beyond value in impermanence. What he does now matters, more than it ever mattered before, because now he has to actually try, and sometimes fail. And when he succeeds, it is because of what Crowley is capable of, rather than the seductive ease of powers and abilities granted him by Hell. His cunning, his intelligence, his will. His own inherent, innate worth. Because he is worthy – of respect, and of love, without the threat or authority of Hell behind him.

Being at least equal portions human and demon doesn’t mean Crowley is vulnerable. If there is one thing Crowley rarely is, rarely allows himself to be, it is vulnerable. Too many centuries and a human life preceding that of vulnerable meaning weak, being used, abused, discarded. Too great an instinct for self-preservation, too much fear of rejection. Too much self-hatred directed at himself for both an unearned feeling of worthlessness and a painful awareness of the sins he’s committed against the world. But there is also a strong desire to be understood, to ignite that spark between himself and others, to feel that connection and sense of belonging. And so occasionally, mostly with Dean, Crowley allows himself to be just that little bit vulnerable, and hope the hunter sees him for who he is, as much as for the better man Crowley wishes he were capable of becoming.

He’s still an arse. He can still be a little too caustic, a little too inconsiderate, and he doesn’t really care if that ruffles some feathers the wrong way. Crowley wouldn’t be himself without his infamous snark and charm, and he never wants to not be himself – just a (slightly) better version of that. He still calls the boys Moose and Squirrel and Feathers, affectionately. Still reserves their names for more tender moments. Still points out all the ways their plans to save the day or the world are stupid, or ill-planned, or self-serving, or likely to jumpstart another apocalypse. Concealing vulnerability and fear of rejection and insecurity about his increasing humanity. He still thinks the Winchesters and Castiel and all their extended family and friends are complete and utter morons, risking their lives for a world that couldn’t care less about them.

None of that means Crowley doesn’t care. Crowley cares, in his opinion, a little too much – he loves, more than he is willing to lose or suffer for that love. He loves with a desperate, dismissive love that takes the shape of exasperated indulgence and affectionate eye rolls, overlooked administrative tasks expertly handled, inserted leaflets into lore and spell books with handwritten corrections, subtle and other times hostile mother-henning, well-mean manipulations and homemade meals. He’s never vocal about his affection, never utters the word love, never says thank you, never dares to say “I’m sorry”. Because he fears saying sorry would show just how small, how insignificant those acts of love were, compared to other, darker acts committed.

Sometimes, Crowley wishes he couldn’t feel the regret and the guilt, the shame that occasionally tempts him to drown himself in good scotch. It’s always there, a dull ache in his second-hand heart. Attempts to justify or rationalize the past as a means of survival, as what brought him here, pale in comparison to the memories of his victims, their screams, the sting of their deserved accusations, the discomfort of their undeserved forgiveness. Things Crowley cannot take back. Things that haunt him. That he’s had to learn how to face, to take responsibility for, to give him the strength and resilience to carry on down this road of redemption. His own past something he can mine and use to help others, guide and protect – save others. No one came for him. No angel fought their way through Hell on divine orders to save Crowley. He was damned, and damaged, and some parts of himself are forever beyond repair. But he can take that damage and do good with it. In his more noble, slightly inebriated moments, Crowley tells himself that’s all there is to it, being this better version of himself. Just wanting to do some good. It has nothing to do with the nightmares and the hellhounds that hunt him from the recesses of his own mind. Or earning the affection of the people he has come to consider family – that have, foolishly, come to consider him family.

Crowley is still Crowley. He is resentful and reluctant, indifferent and dismissive. He’s broken, resigned to being broken, to being a shade too grey to ever be one of the good guys. He’s world-weary and worn, half a soul weaving him threadbare. And Crowley is, ultimately, resilient. He is resolved against his better judgement to give this world – and himself – one last chance. He’s one of the boys, the fourth core member of Team Free Will. And there's work to be done.

[twstedstoryshop]

Oh! Can I request yandere Silver, Floyd, and Jade with a fae reader? Maybe a fae similar to whatever Dire Crowley is and native to the Valley of Thorns? F!Yuu preferably.

I imagine humans are hard enough for merfolk to understand but a fae is just playing on hard mode. At least Silver is already familiar with the habits and social norms of the faefolk. How do they manage to woo the trickster?

This a was a VERY interesting prompt for me that I had fun with. Especially for Silver. Though I will admit, I did feel kind of shaky when having to think about the Tweels with a fae. Hope you don't mind if their parts seemed weak. Also fair warning that Fae Lady Yuu very much fits the mold of tricksy and cruel fae who does bad things for the hell of it. -Shopkeep

WARNING! The following contains unhealthy character behavior and horror themes. If this disturbs you, please DO NOT READ.

Yandere Headcanons of Silver, Floyd, and Jade with a Female Fae Yuu.

Yuu an ancient fae woman that rivaled in age and power with the likes of Lilia, of all people. Yuu busied herself with her court of black birds and corvids of many kinds followed in her step.

It was a passing fascination, seeing the young child Vanrouge had taken upon himself to raise. When he and that dragon prince had their eyes elsewhere, Yuu would appear before Silver, swathed in black, shimmering feathers and a bird mask that only glowed with flickers of her eyes.

She played with him, played pranks on humans here and there, and danced with him in the air. Yuu’s presence was a fleeting delight though. Like melted candy that disappeared on the tongue. Just as quickly as She appeared, her fae whimsy pushed her to disappear for random times in his life.

Every single time she disappeared in his life again, he grew up more and more, but not once did his fascination with you dwindle. In fact, in her absence, all Silver could think about was Yuu.

He kept some of the glossy feathers she dropped, wondered if he could attract some of her black bird attendants to his side to ask about you, even asked Lilia about what kind of person Yuu was. But Silver would be taken aback by his warnings to keep away from Yuu. For she was a wicked fae lady that listened only to her whims.

Yet Silver was a human, even if he was raised by fae. Even he was not exempt from being tempted by fae charms… If Lilia, Malleus, or Sebek disapproved of Yuu, he didn’t want to linger around them. He abandoned his station as a knight-in-training. He only wanted to wield his magic and sword for Yuu only.

Deep he went into the dark, dark forest. His actions piqued Yuu’s interest and it has been a while since her last visit with the pretty human boy.

She appeared before him in a whirlwind of black feathers and when her eyes pierced through his very soul, Silver bent his knee and swore his loyalty.

“I have my court, my own guard of black birds, and powers beyond your comprehension. What could you possibly offer to me, little human?” “I would swear to never betray you. Even if the world hates you, I will stand by your side and gladly follow you into death. Whatever you need, I shall always deliver.”

There was a desperate conviction in his voice. It was obvious to Yuu he would rather die than to be apart from her any longer. Yuu felt like laughing at such misplaced devotion. She wondered how his dear father would react seeing his son beg for the affections of a wicked fae lady. Then a morbid curiosity grew in her mind. How far would he go?

”You know, Silver, you have such beautiful eyes. I’ve never seen such colors before in human eyes. I wonder… Could I have them?”

A devastated father searched endlessly for his runaway son. The prince sent word for anyone to come to him if they found traces of him. Even the son’s co-knight joined the hunt to find him again. Around the same time, there have been rumors that the blackbird lady has found herself a ferocious, blind knight…

There are times where the Briar Valley becomes much too stuffy with its court politics. Often Yuu would slip away from the public eye and her wings carried her to places far off. One of those places being the Coral Sea.

Yuu perched among the rocks that looked out to the miles of ocean all around. Of course black birds followed in her wake. The gathering of noisy corvids and a lone figure standing among them certainly caught the eyes of a curious eel…

Floyd would make himself known and instantly he would bombard Lady Yuu with all sorts of questions. Why’d she look like that? Why did birds follow her? Why’d she have to wear a stupid mask? All of these frank questions wouldn’t offend her. In fact, it amused her greatly.

The two would make a game out of every encounter they had. Playing 20 questions, racing through the air and sea, and trading objects for things between land and sea.

The two would relate heavily on their distaste of formal events and not wanting to be told what to do. It was a connection that Floyd was surprised to ever find in his lifetime. An actual kindred spirit that really understood what it was to enjoy freedoms and listened to whim.

Though this was a dangerous combination as now Floyd would be faced with his own behavior. Days where he would excitedly meet with his favorite bird, Yuu would look at him with complete disinterest and scoff at his presence. Of course, this would put Floyd in a sour mood too, the two butt heads, and Yuu would fly out quickly out of his reach.

There’s a deep frustration within Floyd as now he craved Yuu's attention. He didn’t want her to look at him like he was a piece of ugly kelp washed up on the beach. Try as he might to turn away from her and ignore her whenever she was in a low mood, he deeply wanted to play with her in their own little world.

Floyd would have to force himself to think of compromise and honestly, it's like pulling teeth out for him. He hates it, but he desperately wants to keep Yuu by the shore for a deep fear lingers in him that Yuu will grow tired of him and leave him.

He figures out one thing though to keep Yuu happy and that’s treasures. Any time, Floyd would offer all sorts of strange and fascinating things that would quickly have Yuu acting from rude to adorably curious.

Floyd clings to this method and anything that Yuu was interested in, he would hunt it down like a shark. Floyd may think he has the upperhand in this but Yuu knows what he’s trying to pull. Again, that cruel fae side of her rears its ugly head.

”Hey, Floyd, I’m curious about something…” “What’s that, Birdy~?” “I’ve heard that octopuses have an amazing healing factor. That they can grow back their limbs over time. You have an octopus friend, right?” “Yeah, yeah! That’s Azul. Did you wanna meet him?” “No, no… I want a couple tentacles from him. I wanna see if they’ll actually grow back. You can report to me what happens, right, my lovely eel?”

There’s a pause. Only the sound of crashing waves surround you two but among the sea foam, his sleepy bi-colored eyes curl into a disturbing pleased look. “Sure~ I can do that for you, Birdy!”

Yuu would stumble upon Jade in a similar fashion to Floyd. A curious eel dared to swim closer to a mysterious visitor upon the rocks. Though the conversation would be much more polite and delve into more intelligent conversation than games.

Yuu would share stories of her daily life back in Briar Valley while Jade shares his life down in the depths of the Coral Sea. Of course, as their conversation becomes more daily, Jade’s fascination with life on land starts to grow more and more.

Especially when Yuu shamelessly recounts tales of her cruelty. He wonders aloud if this was actual normal human behavior but Yuu laughs and explains she’s not a human, but a fae.

Again, Jade’s curiosity grows deeper. More and more he starts to drift away from his life in the waters. He prefers to stay by the surface, watching the skies with baited breath for the familiar silhouette of black birds in the sky.

His questions gear more towards life as a fae and Yuu wouldn’t spare any details, going into how ludicrous it can be yet fun when there’s no inhibitions. Though those days are starting to dwindle sadly since fae and humans have to keep the “peace” or whatever. What a joke.

Jade would then admit that he wished he could partake in the cruel jokes and torture the fae could get away with. With his family, such deeds had to be done in the dark and kept secret…

As soon as temptation shows itself, Yuu will grasp it. She would slide closer to the eel and stare down at him with wild eyes. “Jade, do you wish to join my court…?” “Is that even possible? I am not even fae.” “Nonsense, you’re talking to a very powerful court fae here! It would be a cinch to use a spell to give you legs, maybe craft you some wings to fly at my side, I could even have you work for me as my personal servant. So you can see all the action up-close, of course. How about it? Would you like to come and play with me and my lovely birds~?”

Jade would find himself in a very dangerous spiral. One side of him screamed to get out of this for he had his family, Azul, Floyd to get back to, but this sadistic beauty was giving him an eternal feast for his sick desires.

Jade made a deal and without as much as a whisper, the sea lost an eel with only feathers left on the water’s surface. Floyd was inconsolable and Azul’s mind raced on the whereabouts of the missing Jade…

[nickelkeep]

The Devil You Know

Pairing: Sam/Gabriel Rating: Gen Word Count: 4605 Warnings: AU - If you don’t like Sam as the King of Hell, this ain’t for you. On Ao3

“Sam!” Dean called into the library, “Can you come out to the War Room for a minute?”

Sam pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes before marking his page and closing the book he was reading. He stood up and stretched, careful to make sure his body popped and cracked in all the proper spots.

He made his way into the War Room to see Cas and Dean standing over a map marking various locations. “What’s going on? A case?”

Cas shook his head. “Not exactly. Remember when you stated that there would be no new King of Hell?” Sam nodded in confirmation. “Turns out the Demons are about to have their own Civil War.”

“The signs and the omens we’ve been researching, not an apocalypse. Think of them as battles over turf.” Dean added. “They’re organizing whether we like it or not.”

“So you’re saying I should have put my weight behind that Kipling guy?” Sam scoffed. “No. He was a million times worse than Crowley. And we barely liked Crowley.”

Cas and Dean looked at each other briefly before Dean gave Cas the go-ahead to speak. “There may be a better idea.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” He looked at Dean, who was shaking his head no. “Clearly, Dean doesn’t.”

“It may be the only choice we have, but depending on who takes over for Heaven, we may not have a better option.”

“What does that even mean, Cas?”

Dean spoke up. “What Cas is trying to get at is that there’s someone alive who has a strong claim to the throne, that Heaven may leave alone.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “You.”

“What?!” Sam’s head shot back forth between the angel and his brother. “You two are joking, right?”

“Sam. You are clean, you are pure. You would go to Heaven if you died tomorrow.” Cas paused. “But you are still technically marked by Azazel. You are his chosen. The demons would honor it. They have to.”

“Dean, listen to him, you can’t agree with him,” Sam pleaded.

“He’s got a point, Sam. And you don’t have to go to Hell. Technically, you can’t.” Dean ran his hand down his face. “Plus, we could clean up the mess that is down there. No more Demon Deals, only put the genuinely horrible people down there, no more sneaky shit. I would trust you if you were in charge.”

Cas held his hand up. “The catch is that Heaven would have to approve. While Hell is its own Domain, an angel – Lucifer, was sent down there oversee it. And when he was placed in the cage for trying to cause an uprising, a set chain of command was put in place.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Sam sat down at the head of the War Table. ”This is my life. I have the Hunter Network to run. I go on hunts with you guys. We’re raising Jack. Don’t you think that’s enough for me?”

“Sam, if we can implement good changes to Hell, you would be a leader only in title, just like the leader of Heaven.” Cas walked over and clasped Sam’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t be so adamant if we didn’t think you could handle it.”

“Plus, we’ll be right there with you Sammy. Like always.”

“It’s only if Heaven says Yes, anyway.” Sam ran his hand through his hair. “Let’s get started, Dean. Go work your magic, Cas.”

xxx

“Gabriel!” An angel - Inias, the Archangel believed his name was - shouted, and came running up to him. “You walk the earth!”

Shit. Gabriel stopped and put his hands in his jacket pockets. “I didn’t realize it was a myth.”

“This is amazing. Castiel said that you had died. And now, when we need you the most, you’ve returned. Oh, forgive my manners.” Inias bowed at the waist before standing up straight. “Won’t you come home? The other angels will be thrilled to see you.”

“Hah!” A cold, harsh laugh escaped the Archangel’s typically jovial lips. “Wait, you were serious?” Gabriel clasped Inias’ shoulder and pulled him closer. “There’s a reason I left Heaven over a millennia ago. And I sure as hell don’t want to come back now.” He gently set the lesser angel back upright, brushing some lint off the front of Inias’ suit jacket and patting his chest. “You can pass that on to whoever’s in charge up there.”

“No one.”

“Excuse me?” Gabriel cupped his hand behind his ear. “I don’t think I heard you clearly.”

Inias took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “There is no one in charge of Heaven. Right now? You’re the highest-ranked angel, besides Castiel, and he’s fallen.”

“If Cas is considered Fallen, then I hate to break it to you kid. I’m way, way, worse off than he is.”

“Please, Gabriel. You don’t even have to stay in Heaven. Just pop up every now and then. We need a leader to unify us. Especially with Hell trying to unify under a leader again.”

The Archangel smirked curiously. “Hell’s trying to unite? Under who? Lucifer’s gone. Crowley’s dead. All the Princes and Knights are gone. It’s just a bunch of pissants trying to covet an empty throne.”

“Just come up and talk to Naomi?” Inias pleaded. “You won’t be trapped, you know none of us could keep you there. We just need guidance and some to help us rebuild. And perhaps, if you’re up top, it’ll keep them from organizing down there.”

“Fine.” Gabriel sighed and put his hand back on Inias’ shoulder. “Hold on tight.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers, instantly transporting them. The hallways of Heaven were cold and clinical. With the number of the Host dwindled down to the extremely low double digits, it was a slim upgrade above abandoned. Gabriel looked around, taking in familiar sights before being led to the prison block.

“Why are we here?”

Inias frowned. “After the Shadow attacked, Naomi was deemed unfit to lead. We couldn’t expel her, as we need all the power we can get. She’s sitting in a cell.”

As they came to the front of her cell, Naomi stood up in shock at the sight of the Archangel standing before her. “Gabriel? We were told that you died. Killed by a different Michael.”

“Clearly, that’s not the case.” Gabriel spun in place and made his best jazz hands motion before returning to his serious expression. “Being in power didn’t suit you well, Naomi?”

“I was never meant to be in power. I didn’t want it. But because I had controlled Castiel at one time, the Host looked towards me to lead them.”

“Just because you’re a reconditioner, doesn’t mean you’re a leader.”

“I know that, Gabriel!” Naomi cried out. “I tried my best. I even tried to get Castiel back into Heaven. He’s the one who won’t stay because of his status as Fallen.”

“So, you have angels like Inias here, searching for any angels who didn’t come home after the Fall?”

“That wasn’t my doing.”

“It was my choice, as well as a couple of others, Gabriel. It was dual-purpose. Let them know that they could come home. I thought we could see if there were any angels capable of leading the Host.”

“Angels aren’t meant to lead the host. You would have been better making a Democracy.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not even a leader. I’ve spent millennia running from responsibility.”

“We’re not asking you to make laws or rules Gabriel,” Naomi was practically pleading. “Those are already in place. If you want to make changes, by all means, go ahead. You know we need them. We just need a figurehead to guide us in God’s name. Please.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers and removed the bars from Naomi’s cell. “First change. Get out of the damn cell, and get back upstairs.”

“Does this mean you’ll do it?” Inias questioned.

“Not yet. Get all the angels in the throne room, but don’t tell them I’m here. If I’m doing this, I want to make sure they’re all on board.”

Naomi and Inias bowed before exiting the prison wing. Gabriel looked into Naomi’s former cell. What have I gotten myself into?

xxx

Cas arrived to find all the angels congregating in the throne room. He slipped into the room as well and moved to stand next to Inias. “What is going on?”

Inias turned to Cas and smiled. “Hopefully good news. Everyone is here except for the few angels who refuse to return.”

“That’s actually good. I wanted to bring a suggestion on who could take over as the King of Hell.” Cas was going to continue, but the doors to the throne room opened again, allowing entrance for… “Gabriel!?”

“Hello, Castiel!” Gabriel turned to the rest of the angels in the room. “Hello, everyone!”

“No, this is impossible. Sam and Dean watched you die.” Cas stepped forward, moving closer to his brother. “We mourned you. Sam was devastated.”

Gabriel’s previous joy flatlined. “If a Seraph can do it, why can’t an Archangel? You’re not the only one who got out of the Empty.”

“And you couldn’t go to Sam?”

“That’s enough, Castiel. We’ll talk after I talk to the Host.”

Cas knew a dismissal when he heard one and snapped his mouth shut. It didn’t stop him from noticing the pain in his brother’s eyes, however.

Gabriel all but waltzed to the throne and stood in front of it. “Many of you know that the last thing I want is to sit in this chair. I’ve done everything I can to shirk the responsibility that came with being, well… Me.” He spared a glance at Cas before looking back to the rest of the angels. “But, I know that right now, until good old Dad reappears, you need a rallying point.”

The angels in the throne room started talking excitedly in hushed whispers to one another. Cas looked at Inias who smiled and nodded.

“I will be the Commander of Heaven, with some conditions,” Gabriel announced to polite applause from the rest of the Host. Cas stood in place, slackjawed in disbelief. Gabriel signaled to the room to cease their clapping. “As you all know, I can’t stay in one place. If you really want me to lead, you need to understand that I’m only going to be popping up here like once a week, or if an emergency occurs. I’ll have a team to handle the day-to-day.”

It took no convincing for the angels to accept Gabriel’s terms as the Leader of Heaven, although Cas was against it. If Gabriel became the Leader, he wouldn’t allow Sam to become the King of Hell. He’d deem it too risky. Cas turned to leave when his brother called out to him.

“Cas, leaving so soon? I know you wanted to talk.” Gabriel walked up next to him and stood close. “There’s a lot for me to catch up on.”

“What is there for me to say? The rest of the Host can catch you up on current events.” Cas tried to walk away as Gabriel stepped in his path.

“I think you came up here for a reason. According to the others, you don’t come up here often.”

Cas shook his head. “I already know that the request I had of Heaven will be turned down, especially now that you’re in charge. And I honestly don’t think you want anything to do with me or the Winchesters. Otherwise, you would have found us.”

Gabriel looked around before grabbing Cas’ arm and pulling him out of the Throne Room. “You think I want this? You think this where I thought I would be after running away?”

“I don’t know what to think, Gabriel. Sam and Dean watched Michael kill you. I thought you dead. We mourned you. Instead, I find out you’re back, by finding you in Heaven. The last place you said you ever wanted to be. You said that to me. Over in the other universe.”

He let go of Cas’ arm and slouched back against the wall. “I’ve only been out of the Empty for less than a month. I was trying to find my back way to Sa- all of you. Inias found me.” Gabriel picked at a string on the cuff of his jacket. “I figured, if I didn’t have to stay in Heaven as the leader, I could use the resources to find you, and it would speed up my search.” He looked back up to Cas, honesty shining in his eyes. “When Inias said you were Fallen, and Naomi confirmed it, I figured it would be even harder to find you, so I would need those resources to find you.”

“The rest of the Host lets me come and go as I please. They still welcome my Grace as an extra battery.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I really was trying to find you three. That bunker is extremely angel proof, huh?”

“Yes. Jack and I are the only ones who can get in and out freely.”

“It’s warded against me?” Gabriel sounded hurt, much to Cas’ surprise.

“Against all Archangels. We had an incident with the other Michael. And Lucifer.” Cas hung his head, hoping to change the subject. “We thought you were dead. There would be no reason to have an exception made into the sigil with you dead.”

“Fair.”

“There are other ways of contacting us,” Cas responded dejectedly.

“Right, cause Angel Radio wouldn’t pick up on me broadcasting.” Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest. “So what were you going to ask of the host?”

Cas shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. There’s now a Leader of Heaven, and you won’t approve.”

“You wound me, brother.” Gabriel grabbed at his chest, feigning an injury. “At least ask. The worst I say is no.”

“And then stab me with an angel blade,” Cas muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said there’s a situation involving Hell.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. One of the reasons Inias wanted me back up here.” Gabriel pushed himself off the wall and stood up straight. “What can you tell me, I’m sure you and the Winchesters were looking into it.”

“They don’t have a leader. So they’re fighting over boundaries, territories; the smallest things are setting off small battles.”

“Ok, I’m assuming there was an idea, and you wanted to run it by the Host.”

“There is somebody viable for the Throne. Someone that can be trusted.”

Gabriel laughed. “Angels rarely trust Demons, Cas. What Demon-”

“Sam.”

Cas watched as his brother went deathly still. All emotion left his face, and Cas couldn’t feel anything emanating from the Archangel.

“Leave, Castiel.”

No other words were necessary. Cas left, the proverbial tail tucked between his legs.

xxx

Dean watched as his brother collapsed into a chair. Cas had come back not only with news that the angels had found someone to lead them, that the leader had told him no to their plan, and that the leader was none other than the Archprick known as Gabriel.

Sam was ricocheting through the stages of grief in front of him and Cas, and they couldn’t stop it. Dean leaned into Cas to whisper in his ear. “Stay with him? I’m going to take care of a few things.” Cas pulled back and cocked his head to the side in confusion. “I’m serious. If I need you, I’ll pray and say ‘Poughkeepsie.’ If I say that, get Sam somewhere safe and come to me. I won’t be far. I’ll tell you where I’m at in the prayer.”

“I don’t like this, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like this,” he discreetly pointed to Sam, “either.”

He clasped Cas’ shoulder and headed to the armory where they stashed all their weapons. As he looked through their melee weapons, Dean came across the blade he was looking for, and slid it up the sleeve of his flannel, as Cas had shown him how to do.

After cutting through the garage, and closing the bay doors behind him, Dean started to pray aloud. “Gabriel, I hear you’re alive you son of a bitch. I will never doubt Cas, but I need to see you with my own two eyes. If you’re alive and real, show yourself.”

“I’m not sure if you’re trying to antagonize me, or if you’re actually trying to help me.” Dean looked to his right to find that Gabriel had come as called. “You know I couldn’t find this place? Did Cas tell you that? ‘Cause I know I told him that.”

Dean slowly nodded. “He mentioned it. Doesn’t make it any less true that there are other ways to find us.”

“Yes, because I have your phone numbers memorized.”

“There are other people who would have helped you find us, asshole.” Dean let the blade drop out of his sleeve and he pointed it at Gabriel. “What’s the whole point of making yourself known? Are you trying to hurt Sam again? Cas? Hell, I was even upset over your death, and I barely tolerate you on most days.”

Gabriel frowned, his eyes following the blade in Dean’s hand. “An Archangel Blade? Are you threatening me?”

“I’m protecting my family. The one you’re hurting at the moment.”

“Can I see Sam?”

“For what reason? To deepen his wounds? To tell him how much you don’t trust him?” Dean scoffed. “Shit, Cas told us that all he said was Sam’s name, and you shot down the plan before you even heard it.” Dean closed his eyes and prayed silently to Cas that he was outside the Garage and to keep his ears on. “Do you even care what’s going on? I mean, old habits die hard. Trust me, I know.”

“You’re testing my patience, Dean.” Gabriel took a few steps forward. “Did I not prove to you that I was ready to fight to protect you, and Castiel and most of all Sam?”

“Oh, you did. I’m not denying you died for us.”

“And now you want to throw Sam to the wolves and have him rule over Hell? Yes, let me waste throwing my life away to have him do that.”

Dean prayed to Cas while Gabriel was yelling at him. “Cas, I know you’re listening. Ask Sam if he wants to see Gabe.”

“I will not have him down there. I will not have him become a Demon. Not when he’s done so much. Not when he can finally go to Heaven when all is said and done.”

“You really should have let Cas explain the idea, Gabe.” Dean ran his hand down his face as Cas opened the door to the Garage. “Stay here.”

Dean quickly crossed to Cas. “What does Sam want?”

“He didn’t even hesitate. He said yes before I finished the question.” Cas looked over at Gabriel, who was watching the two of them talk. “I changed all but the last sigil on the way here. Do I change this last one?”

“Yeah, Angel. Go ahead.” Dean kissed Cas on the temple before walking back over to the Archangel.

He flipped the blade in his hand and offered the hilt to Gabriel. “I’m pretty sure you know this is yours.”

“Yeah.”

“Sammy wants to see you. But so help me, Gabe, if you hurt him again-”

“You don’t have to threaten me. If I hurt him again, it’s on me. One-hundred percent.” Gabriel took his blade and walked towards the open doors.

xxx

Sam had told Cas that he wanted to see Gabriel, but now he doubted that decision. Dean had gone outside to pray and call him to the bunker, and he was there, now. Sam sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee keeping his hands busy while he waited for Gabe to join him.

“Hiya Sam.” Gabe leaned in the doorway of the kitchen, a sad smile playing across his mouth. “A little crow told me you were willing to see me.”

“Yeah, uh.” Sam swallowed hard. “Hi, Gabriel.”

“Can I join you?”

Sam nodded and watched as the Archangel sat across from him.

“So.”

“So.” Sam nodded in agreement, his eyes suddenly focusing on his coffee instead of the whiskey gold eyes across the table from him.

After a few moments of silence, Gabriel tried to start the conversation again. “I’ve heard a bit about your accomplishments. Starting up a network of hunters, keeping track of them, keeping dibs on the weird stories of the day and forwarding them to right people.”

“Yeah. I, uh, realized that Dean and I, we’re getting older. We’re slowing down. We need to pass our knowledge and skills on to a newer generation of Hunters. We can do this and still be helpful. Dean and Cas can train them, I can teach them. Rowena’s even helping out.” Sam offered a little smile while trying to remain modest.

“That’s great, Sam. So why do you want to throw it all away to be the King of Hell?”

Sam frowned. There it was. “I don’t have to throw it away. I can handle both.”

“You think you can Sam. It’s not a walk in the park.”

“And you think any part of my life has been?” Sam sat up straight, his body and mind going into defense mode.

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. That’s not what I meant.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I just found you, and you’re already going to run off and put yourself in a position that could get you killed.”

“I’m a hunter. I have died plenty of times Gabe.”

“That’s beside the point. I won’t have it on my watch.”

“What do you even want, Gabriel? You’re somehow back from the dead, and you’re the Leader of Heaven which, by the way, is something you said you never wanted.” Sam paused and ran his fingers through his hair. He knew that he was going somewhere with this line of conversation, but Gabe was right there, sitting across from him. Sam could reach across the table and take his hand and run his thumb across his knuckles. Instead, Sam shook his head and tried to focus. “If it weren’t for Cas saying that it is definitely you, I’d have every reason to doubt you.”

Sam watched as hurt flashed through Gabriel’s eyes. The archangel looked down at his hands before responding. “I needed to find you. You’re hidden from me. Dean and Cas are hidden from me. This place is hidden from me.” Gabriel looked up, his eyes boring into Sam’s. “I took this as an opportunity. I thought I had found a way to find you. I wanted to find you, to make sure that you were ok. To make sure that you were alive.”

“Is it safe to say you’re being selfish? How does this help keep Heaven operational? How are you helping the angels? Or are you just helping yourself?”

Gabriel hung his head again.

“I know what you’re getting at. I really do. But you can’t tell me no, Gabe. Do you even know why I’m doing this?”

“Because Cas and Dean put you up to it?” Gabriel spat, not bothering to look up from the table.

“It was their idea, but I’ve come to embrace it. The casualties from the demon battles will stop. I can stop Demon Deals. I can reform Hell. Make it the place that only the truly bad go, and make it a place where souls can be reformed.” Sam hesitantly reached across the table and took Gabriel’s hand. “Even marked as Azazel’s Chosen, I’ve worked to be pure, to be worthy. You showed me that I am.”

“Then you have to understand why I don’t want you doing this.” Gabriel looked up, a sad smile on his lips. “Did I agree to Lead Heaven for selfish reasons? Yeah. But I will lead because I made that promise. And am I disagreeing with the idea of you leading Hell for selfish reasons? Abso-fucking-lutely. I am selfish, Sam.” He closed his other hand around Sam’s, embracing it tenderly. “I just found you again, and I find that I’m going to lose you? Not happening.”

“We did the research, Gabe. I can do this.”

“It’s not a matter of me doubting you.” Gabriel exhaled quietly. “I don’t want to be away from you again.”

Sam sat in silence, looking at his hand in Gabriel’s. The tension built a wall around them, instead of dividing them, separating them from the rest of the bunker. Hunters came in and out of the kitchen, ignoring them, rushing around them. Stifled by their quiet, Sam raised his eyes up and searched Gabriel’s eyes. “What do you want, Gabriel? All you’ve told me is what you don’t want.”

“I found you. I wanted that.”

“Doesn’t count, Gabriel. You know what I mean.”

“Does it matter what I want? It sounds like you’re going through with your King of Hell plans either way.” Gabriel started to slide his hands back when Sam’s other hand came to rest on top and hold them securely in place.

“I want to know. Please.”

“For us not to fight. For us to be on the same page. For us to be like we were.” Gabriel’s typically energetic voice fell to a broken whisper. “I want us.”

Sam’s face softened in realization. “And you think that if you lead Heaven and I lead Hell, that we can’t have that? Heaven and Hell are constantly at war, so the leaders have to hate each other?” Gabriel nodded. “Gabe, that’s bullshit and you know it. We would be in charge. We make the rules.”

“And here I thought you would be above all those cliches.”

“You’re talking to the guy who wants to reform Hell.” Sam stood up and pulled Gabriel to his feet before wrapping his arms around the archangel. “Come here.”

Gabriel melted into Sam’s embrace. “Why do you make it sound so easy?”

“Because after all the shit we’ve been through, I think we deserve easy for once, don’t you?”

“Well, I mean, it wouldn’t be hiding in Monte Carlo with endless strippers and parties and booze easy.”

“Gabe.”

“Do you want me there?” Gabriel reached up and softly Sam’s face, eliciting a smile from the hunter.

Sam pulled back and looked down quizzically. “Want you where?”

“With you, when you tell the faction Leaders that you’re taking over as the King of Hell. If you have the new Commander of Heaven with you, I’m sure it will throw the extra weight behind your claim.”

“Did you change your mind?

“We deserve easy. So we make this as easy as possible, right? That means that I don’t fight you on this, and we work together. Besides, I promised I would always keep you safe, right? Can’t do that if I’m not on board or fighting against you.”

“Just like that?” Sam raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “Why the one-eighty?”

“I thought I was going to have to graciously bow out of your life, Sam. I was ready to have to protect you from a distance. I was ready to be the mopey pining teenager, which, may I remind you, is not a good look for me.” Gabe flashed his most brilliant smile yet, causing Sam’s heart to stop. “But if we’re by each other’s side? We can do anything.”

Sam cupped Gabriel’s face and leaned down, fiercely kissing the Archangel, and sealed his first - and only - deal as the new King of Hell.

[magicianmew]

I'm crap at ask memes but distraction is fab. So instead of that, what do you think about this decade of witchy history? What do you think the 201X years will be remembered for and talked about for by witches of the future? It's a huge open question so feel free to answer in any way, if you like.

That's a fantastic question. Actually had to sit down and think about it for a minute...I think society at large will most certainly remember this as the decade of the activist witch. That's what most of our mainstream attention has been coming from for the last couple years, and witches along with some magic-aligned religions (Satanism especially) have been extremely visible in the political sphere. There has even been some outright magical war going on between Nazi meme magicians and witches.But within the witch community, I think there are also other things that are remarkable. To my mind, witches have basically always been activist, we're just getting more attention for that now because the internet makes us more visible and it's not as dangerous to be an open magical practioner as it was, say, 50 or 100 years ago, so that's not exceptional in my eyes.What's been exceptional to me is the shift that's happened in "witching dogma," so to speak. After decades and arguably a century or so of our information being controlled by a select few sects, or privileged people abusing their power and appropriating without consequence, there is FINALLY starting to be a reemergence of non-denominational, practical, and ethically aware witchcraft resources accessible to the masses. And it really has been a LONG time since we had that. At least if you're looking at the West, you have to go back at least 2 or 3 centuries to find practical magical guides which don't make a bunch of assumptions, lie about history, or shame you for not doing it how they do it. And books that old often have no real application to our lives today. I mean, how many witches in 2018 need an abundance spell for milk cows, ya know?This generation is actually DOING something about the lack of non-Wiccan resources, the dwindling of native (in the broad sense, but also Native) practices, the misinformed histories we've been taught for ages (burning times myth, anyone?), and the continued dominance of the same old fucking upper class that has dogged the Western magical community since Crowley.When someone who's brand new and has no idea how they want to compile their practice asks me for book recommendations, I can actually suggest stuff now, which I feel comfortable is going to be applicable no matter which direction they go in, and is going to be reasonably free of shaming and outright lies. Not a ton, mind you, but even a few years ago, that wasn't the case.To me, that's the really special, NEW aspect about this decade of witchcraft.

[skepticaloccultist]

Bibliotheca Occultorum - Carl Abrahamsson

At some point in this endeavor I began thinking about the incredible private book collections and occult libraries throughout the world. In all ages those who have sought the discovery of occult knowledge have collected books. John Dee himself once amassed the largest private library (occult or otherwise) in Britain. Yet with a handful of exceptions most contemporary collectors are rather private about their collections, hoarding them like Smaug over his gold pile. But there exists out in the world many contemporary private occult libraries filled with incredible volumes and fantastic stories.

So I thought why not a series about occultist's libraries? Thus the "Bibliotheca Occultorum" series has begun. We will have a look at the private libraries of various occultists, authors and publishers and see what we can discover hidden among their stacks.

We begin our series with an interview with Carl Abrahamsson. Based in Stockholm, Sweden Carl is a composer, publisher, filmmaker and author. As part of the musical groups White Stains and Cotton Ferox, Carl has been long active in the world of experimental and industrial music and as the cofounder of Edda Publishing and owner of Trapart he has long been a proponent of the esoteric and occult. Carl's inauguration of the series comes just as the most recent volume of his annual Fenris Wolf collection series is released. Something I will be reviewing in the near future.

++++++++++

Carl Abrahamsson interviewed by Eldred Wormwood

Tell me about your library. How many books would you say you have in total? How much of that is occult specific literature? Do you keep your library in a specific room dedicated or spread throughout your home?

My library can seem chaotic, both in terms of contents and order (or lack of it). For me, an ideal, perfectly organised library is an elevated pipe dream and one I would not like to manifest. Paradoxical as it may sound, for me a perfectly organised library is a stagnant thing, like death. My library needs to be filled with life: additions, subtractions and re-shapings, changes of direction and renewed interest. There is no motion of association in perfection. I would estimate that I have 4000 books in my home and I have some stashed away too. Of these, I’d say 500 cover topics such as occultism, religion, mythology and similar things. The walls are covered with shelves from top to bottom in two rooms, and the rest are in piles, wardrobes and windows in other rooms. The fact that I also run a publishing company doesn’t help.

Do you collect any specific type of book? My library tends to lean toward folklore/ethnographic oriented work and non fiction. Is there something you go for more than the rest?

I’m happy to say that I suffer from bibliomania rather than bibliophilia. I love beautiful books and if there is a choice I will buy the more lavish edition. But I don’t collect anything in particular. I’m more of a general devourer. When it comes to the occult stuff, I have moved through phases in life. Thelema has been there all along, as has LaVeyan Satanism and TOPY-related material. Daoism is also something that’s interested me all along, and that I actually keep buying. When it comes to the new generation of occult publishers, I buy selected titles that speak to me. As I grow older, I seem to like older texts and books. Alchemical and cosmic illustrations and illuminations inspire me – and iconography in general – but I don’t feel I specifically have to own the old editions.

Who is your favorite occult author? Any first editions or particularly lovely bindings by said author?

The above mentioned thematic examples would/could mean Crowley (intelligent, but so narcissistic it quickly becomes boring for me now), LaVey (who grew from a cut and paste provocateur to a genuinely real and vital thinker/writer) and material by Genesis Breyer P-Orridge (whose genius has existed in applying art talk to magic and vice versa). Spare was quickly outshone by Nietzsche but once upon a time he was important to me. I don’t think I have any super-rarities. I have Crowley’s autograph from a torn collection of Lord Byron’s poetry he used to own. And a copy of "Equinox of the Gods" that used to belong to Sybil Leek. Most of the LaVey stuff I have signed by him for me, which is great. And the TOPY stuff with Genesis too – and that’s still a continuing and inspirational saga. The magic of books and especially personalised books transcend the occult, as we know. People obsessed with different areas and authors can draw magical power via signed copies of books and items. It’s interesting that it seems to become a “double whammy” (at least unconsciously) among occult book collectors, as it actually seems possible to tap in via the talismanic, signed editions. It isn’t as far-fetched and hocus pocus as it may sound. Consider the difference between a memory of a person and a photograph of that person. And then a signature on that photo. The physicality of that documentation becomes a very tangible gateway. Ditto with not just the book but specifically the signed book.

How much of your book buying comes from in bookstore purchases versus online? What percentage of the books you buy are new versus used?

This varies. Under normal circumstances I’m very busy and hardly have the time to look for things online. So when I go into actual stores in different places I have an ecstatic blast and I do most of my buying there. I have no preference in re: new vs old. If the book interests me, I’ll get it.

Any good occult bookshop stories? Do you have favorite shops you frequent in your travels?

As they’re dwindling, I’ll have to look to memory lane first. Stockholm had two that were totally seminal for me as a youngster: East & West and Vattumannen. That’s really where it all began for me, early 1980s. The latter still exists, but has gone down the new age drain. I had the opportunity to chat with Herman Slater at Magickal Childe in New York way back when, which was fun. The Bodhi Tree in LA was good in the early 90s. I still frequent Watkins, Treadwell’s and Atlantis when in London, and they’re all good. I usually have my UK book events at Atlantis. I’ve been at Catland in New York, and I admire their fighting spirit. Nekropolis in Copenhagen is similarly small but nice. I guess there’s one little watering hole in every civilised city. At least I hope so.

What are you currently reading?

I usually read many books at the same time. Right now I’m churning through Werner Herzog’s “Conquest of the useless”, Ryan & Jetha's “Sex at dawn", Ray Bradbury’s “The Illustrated Man”, the essays of Osip Mandelstam, the collected stories of Ben Hecht, Houellebecq’s book on Lovecraft, and Lacan’s “Feminine Sexuality”. That quite accurately describes my focus in life right now, which is as it should be and what books should do.

As the publisher and editor of the Fenris Wolf, what is your perspective on the wider world of occult books, bookbinding and collecting?

I have written about how the current fine book-making is a very integrated part of the occult revival. The books not only contain interesting and inspirational ideas but will continue to do so in the future (when they will also be well needed). It’s not just an indulgent enjoyment to make fine and lasting books but also a very smart strategy for survival. Crowley wanted his system to live on and the Equinox has certainly fulfilled that wish. My own reasons for publishing The Fenris Wolf are similar but decidedly non-sectarian. It seems the focus of most of the publishers is an active transcendence between old and new, in which both are essential parts (for instance, the reverence for old grimoires in combination with social media strategies). There’s also a focus on neo-exoticism in many of them, which is a meta-pragmatic reaction to the "chaotic stasis" of the world in general, and as such a healthy thing. It seems to me that the well-made and beautiful occult books chronicling these teachings and groups have been instrumental in their development and success.

There is rather a renaissance in occult publishing, particularly in terms of fine bindings, happening at the moment. The independents have done so well with it we are even seeing old mainstream stalwarts like Llewellyn putting out slip-cased leather volumes. Any publishers in particular or contemporary volumes you own that you feel are exemplars of this current revival?

The obvious example would be Scarlet Imprint, who produce such beautiful books with such loving determination. It was kind of flabbergasting to see the deluxe of my book Reasonances bound in salmon! Their strata are also intelligent, meaning catering to each kind of purse. The deluxes are super-nice but expensive, and then there’s a sliding scale price wise, although not really sliding in quality. And there are many others too. At Edda Publishing we tried to always make snazzy editions and succeeded quite well. I carry on that mind frame into Trapart Books, but not for its own sake. I want to publish good books, period. But I certainly don’t mind catering to the hardcore collectors at the same time.

With the Fenris Wolf you have been putting that out sporadically since 1989. There are a range of important writers that have contributed to Fenris Wolf over the years, how has the content you are publishing changed or evolved over that time?

Now that it’s an annual venture, I can see it getting more and more eclectic. It’s not meant to be a back-to-back read but rather an accumulation of surprising and inspiring stuff. I want to record and document certain things, people and phenomena, and at the same time discover new writers and new perspectives. You can fit a lot under the magico-anthropological umbrella! The most recent issue, for instance, collects the papers (and more) from a conference that my wife, Vanessa Sinclair, and I organised in London last year: "Psychoanalysis, Art & the Occult". That was a really nice event. So this particular Fenris is pretty focused on that trio of subjects, whereas the normal mix would contain magics new and old, occulture and psychedelics. I can see it going in many different directions. Number ten will of course be spectacular, as it’s a celebratory issue. Issue number 11 will be slimmer but helpful – it will be an index volume for issues 1-10.

How involved are you in the production of the volumes?

I always work with the same printers, so we have gotten to know each other well, and know what can be done. I’m currently drifting more into art books and that means harder quality control. But the way things are going, I’m very happy. California Infernal: Anton LaVey & Jayne Mansfield as portrayed by Walter Fischer sold out quickly and we will very soon see an expanded edition of that. I’m involved on/in all levels of production, from beginning to end. Sometimes I work with outside people. The LaVey-Mansfield project was one such occasion. There I worked together with the owner of the images so that we were both pleased with the result. But on the whole it’s a pretty solitary affair. The most recent issue of Fenris Wolf was edited together with my wife, and we will definitely make more books together. So I guess I’m branching out. And I’m very fortunate to be married to someone who loves books just as much as I do!

  Find out more about Carl's work and publishing here:

www.trapart.net www.carlabrahamsson.com

Watch Carl's films here: https://vimeo.com/user3979080/vod_pages

[enemymine2000]

SPN: Thoughts about 12x14 and 12x15

A lot of “Ah, hell, really? Not again?”-feelings here at first. But then my brain started to dig deeper.

We – the casual viewer – are meant to take things at face value. We are meant to believe that Sam genuinely switched sides and is now working on Dean to do too. We are meant to believe Ketch's seductions of the latter and his mindless enjoyment of hunting with Lucille (of all things).

But we – the not quite so casual viewer – know better.

We know, that Dean is more than a mindless hunter drone, whose only interests are sexual conquests, booze and rides. We know that Dean is able to hack with the best of them (R.I.P. Charlie!), so we know he can easily disprove Sam's claim of a new “find hunts”-app just because of that.

Also we know that Dean is a lying liar who lies professionally and as such can easily spot another liar, especially when the other is Sam, who can't lie his way out of a wet paper bag even when his life depends on it. The only exception being when Sam was soulless, because no conscience to rat him out.

A big hint to that effect is Dean's very on point attitude to lying to their victim of the week about the supernatural. It is a surrogate war. “Don't lie to her, especially not that clumsy” basically means “Don't lie to me, you know I can tell”.

And never forget the much discussed shampoo-line. Dean basically tells it to Sam's face: “I know your secrets!” But also: “Wash this gore from me and I am more than you can see.”

Which is a continuation of the previous episode and Ketch's seduction, that never was.

Yes, psychopath Ketch believes it to be, but Dean – and thus we – know better. Dean might have been hungry for a hunt, but he was not hungry for killing just to kill things. Very sadistically in Ketch's case. Because Dean is more than meets the eye and makes it into BMOL files.

Dean is the guy tasked with keeping the balance on this planet by God himself and he is in a place in his life, where he can accept that. Shown in the last episode with placing him smack dab in the middle of his “love triangle”, so basically between heaven and hell.

He the human, who had been monster and demon, between the demonic ex and the angelic whatever-to-be and managing the balance.

The King of Hell, who basically fled from his domain, the somewhat fallen angel, who goes to Heaven to talk it out with his hateful brethren, and the human, who holds it all together. Who can forgive and forget no matter who, as long as it is sincere. Who will hunt you down if you don't mean it.

I mean, Crowley is basically just still alive, because Dean was able to look beyond and see his reasons.

Crowley remains a demon at his core – no matter his sudden affinity for human emotions – so by old hunter's codex he is nonredeemable and to be put down. But he always acted on a codex on his own, demonic though it was, to uphold balance. Crowley only took what hell earned rightfully and when he stepped beyond that - *cough* Purgatory *cough* - he only did so in accordance with Heaven.

When Dean was a practically unbeatable weapon in Crowley's arsenal, he never misused him. Which, summer of love or not, is something one would not expect from the actual ruler of all things evil.

Cas in turn – well, one could argue, that he only truly came alive through Dean. Yes, he technically “was” for bilions of years, but being and being alive are two very distinct different things.

Castiel, angel of the Lord, was a warrior and only that. His brethren were his only true contact throughout his whole existence and they used him to further their respective agendas. One of which was raising the Righteous Man from Hell.

Cas was born the day his grace touched Dean's soul and has been reborn (sometimes quite literally, which is more than even Lucifer can say) ever since, whenever faced with a choice of his own.

Also still alive because of Dean, because if it wasn't for that pretty insistent human being Cas' would have guilt-tripped himself into oblivion.

If it were for the BMOL all three would need to be disposed off. They are monsters without exception and Ketch would kill each of them without a second thought.

That is something Sam still needs to truly grasp. Also that he would be on that list of monsters too, if he was not so damn useful as a hunter now. That with him being one of Azazel's chosen.

BTW, whatever happened to that? We got that flashback this season, but only with Sam as an unreliable narrator.

Has he lost his psychic powers completely? Or are they just dormant?

One could argue Gadreel healing Sam after the trials would purge that last remants of impurity from his system, but then Gadreel never finished the job and Sam was left to heal naturally after expelling the angel from his body. Not to forget that of the brothers Sam still has the better affinity with witch craft and spell work. (Where exactly lies the distinction?)

So, yes, Sam cozied up with BMOL. But he did so, because he could see how utterly lacking they are and his mother's life was literally at stake.

Dean goes along with it, because he knows there are things Sam is not telling and before he does not get the whole story, he will trust his brother. At the same time he knows his future will not be with the BMOL, because what they already had done to him/his family is already nonredeemable in his eyes.

So while he waits for the second shoe to drop he is looking out for a way to get his mother and brother to safety from the subsequential fall-out.

So, what else? Crowley has Lucifer utterly trapped. I knew as much when he told Lucifer to his face that they had his vessel rebuild from scratch.

Yes, the chains were a nice rustic touch, but please, we are talking archangel here! Currently the most powerful being on this planet and I'm supposed to believe he is held only by some angel-binding chains? Classic subterfuge.

I can't believe Crowley truly wants the nephilim torn apart. Least to torture Lucifer. Yes, Lucifer has been mean to our resident King of Hell, but if Crowley truly would have wanted the nephilim, he would have had Kelly right there, when they expelled Lucifer from the president's body. He had the time to mess with the spell to send the archangel into his vessel, he would have had the time to snatch and grab his baby mama. Especially since he is not restricted by human means of transportation.

He might want the nephilim. But he will want it for the same reasons he wanted Amara. Power. A nephilim is so powerful that angels fear it and there is a decree not to create one (aka “The Sacred Oath”). Maybe this one even more so, since it was sired by the only (relatively sane) archangel left. One unaffected by the big fall – wings still intact and all (very nice for SPN to show us that much).

Yes, I don't doubt that Crowley wants to torture Lucifer, wants to humiliate him, wants to get even for what was done to him. But Crowley would not have become King of Hell, if he did not know better than to do something that probably will come back to bite him in the ass. Killing the actual devil's child is such a thing as long as Lucifer is still alive.

Since Crowley currently has no means – he destroyed the Lance of Michael and a lot of “Hands of God” were rendered useless last season and we know the Colt does not work – and plans – otherwise he would not have imprisoned Lucifer in his vessel – of disposing permanently of Hell's erstwhile ruler, he will not do such thing.

Remains Cas.

Last we have seen, he's back on his way to Heaven to talk to Joshua. That is if Kelvin had not lied in that regard. I for one don't trust the guy, because angels are dicks and they have some very big issues with Cas.

But then the argument of him having the most field experience is legit. No one of the Heavenly Host but Cas – apart from maybe Lucifer (and Gabriel, when he was still alive – I miss him!) - has ever wandered earth that much.

But his special kind of field experience is not really needed if it were only to find and dispose of Kelly, respectively her child. Angels have done similar things before and even taking into account that their numbers have dwindled and the top level bureaucrats are all but burnt wing marks on the ground now, they are still organized enough to manage a level 1 smiting. (Which probably is the most concentrated effort angels had to do ever since God left billions of years ago.)

We can not forget how truly deep the hatred of angel-kind runs towards Cas. Even Hanna had been turned against him. Because they all believe him not only to be responsible for so many deaths of their kind and the closing for Heaven's gates, but because of his love for… humanity.

Basically every angel we have ever met apart from Cas himself has acknowledged that special love for… humanity. (Well, Cas did too just a couple of episodes ago, but we're still waiting on the answer.)

Loving humanity however is not the problem. That is what God commanded of all of his angels. That is what ultimately triggered the Mark of Cain on Lucifer's arm and thus his fall. Angels are meant and programmed to love humanity.

They are however forbidden from laying with humankind and thus to love/make love to one human. The Sacred Oath. Cas has been accused of having broken it practically ever since the Apocalypse.

Cas, being the angel/human hybrid that he has become, he can now see beyond such orders, such oaths. His brethren can not.

As seen with Ishim – hypocrite that he was – they demand them to be followed no matter what. And as Cas himself has once done, they simply do. They don't know choice for themselves.

So whatever Joshua might have to say to Cas, it can't be good. Unless Joshua still talks with God, who we know to have taken a special interest in this particular angel, but then Chuck is on his sibling retreat and very hands-off and, well, Chuck. And Chuck is kind of a dick.

I saw some speculating that this will be the build-up for Cas' ultimate choice for humanity, turning human himself, giving up his grace, etc.

I still hold out hope for my hypothesis of Cas becoming nephilim per choice. Since the show is no longer about black and white, either or, but about balance.

Cas is the best of Heaven and earth combined, why take a part of him away and make him less than that?