[Cowritten with absit_omens. Follows THIS.]

Confinement. Oh, she hated being confined, restrained, left without any control of her circumstances. Instead of focusing on the fact that she was tied to a chair, alone with a Fallen who wanted to make her scream, and that Dean probably had no clue that she was gone. Hell, she couldn't even remember how she ended up here. The sharp ache in her wrists was beginning to dull -- but that glare; the defiant, proud, unwavering glare was still on her face. Part of her knew how much Uriel hated that look. And if he was going to kill her? Well then she was going to go out with a bang.

"One dead-ass Fallen at my feet is what Dean's gonna find when he gets here." Yes, her lips did curl up slightly in smug satisfaction. She was a smartass first, a hostage second.

"This should be good," Ur sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "How exactly do you plan on killing me?"

( *** )

Hi, I'm Emily, and I have half of Hell in my brain.

( Obligatory cut for spoilers and such )

That is all.

Apres moi, le deluge.
After me comes the flood
- “Apres Moi” – Regina Spektor

The rain poured over the world like sheets of water, washing away the disgust, filth and evil, and leaving nothing but new Earth beneath it in the puddles. He stood there, silent, in his vessel, just letting the rain wash over him, collecting in the ground at his feet and washing over them.

He had hesitated upon taking this vessel. The world was so full of sin and corruption, that he knew no matter what vessel he chose, it wouldn’t be a fitting one to be an angel’s host. This one was at least cleaner than most, a strong backed man who had worked his whole life, but now was just going to be washed away, as the drowned world gave way to fresh life, and the world was started anew. Another strong backed man would take his place, till the earth and make it grow fruit, and hopefully the mistakes of his predecessors will not be passed down onto him, allowing these humans the Father loved so dearly to avoid another disaster like this one.

The water rushed around his ankles, and he could hear the screams and sobs of those being left behind by the ark, wailing to the one they considered their God now that the world was ending, bending for forgiveness, deliverance—if not for them, but for their children. The supposed innocents of the great deluge. They would be the last reminders of the filth that the world had been before, and they would still be corruptible, perhaps already corrupted beyond hope. Everyone had a role to play in this, from the youngest child to the oldest man, and they would all pay the price for their sins. Every angel in heaven had felt the way the Father’s heart had broke at the blatant evil of his creations, the blatant disregard for the one who had given them life. They all had a hand to play in the restart of this world, and they were all happy to play their part. This was the beginning of something new, and the sinners would not be allowed to be a part of it.

There would be no redemption for them here. Not now, not ever.

368 words w/o lyrics