* CW // WINCHESTER'S ANGEL

Castiel frowned at the question and turned toward the other. Alright, maybe he used not to eat but he had taken a liking into doing so. “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t make hot pockets at 3AM?” The angel asked rather seriously. “I can not sleep, but I can eat, so I am doing that.” // @artxketch

“Y-you’re an angel?” She asked confused. Even though this was pretty weird it couldn’t be weirder then finding out her fiance came back to life. “Alright, that’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard today.”

“I’m an angel.” Castiel repeated, actually annoyed by people who didn’t believe him with it lately. So, instead of trying to have her to believe him with words, he decided to show off his wings. “Not to say humans are liars, but it is probably the most real thing you heard as well.”

“Um, I could be better.” She said looking around before looking at the man again. “What about you? Are you alright?” Polly asked seeing as the man didn’t look to good and lost as well.

Was he alright? Well now, this answer could’ve been much deeper than just physically. It could’ve been about how broken and bruised he was and how he had no idea where he was going without faith, but instead, he just answered what he knew was good for the other not to ask any question. “Of course. I’m an angel, I can not get injured by so little. No offense.”

Polly had been walking around for a long time, just searching for someone she knew or that looked even a bit familiar. Thinking she saw someone she recognized she kept looking at the person before quickly turning around and running into someone. “Oh my god, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Not really paying attention to much lately, Castiel had been quite out of it all. Things weren’t going quite right with him and he realized it, but he didn’t truly know how to change that. So, he was always lost in thoughts, which resulted in him bumping into others. “No, no, it’s me. Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m not,” Chuck snapped. Of course Castiel would see it like that. He was ungrateful for everything – all the times Chuck had bought him back, all the times he’d rebuilt him from scratch because he couldn’t drag him out of the Empty. Of course Castiel would see his father as some kind of dictator, because he was a child, and children always lashed out at their parents. He folded his arms and listened to his son’s tirade, bored. Wrong, wrong, and wrong again. Of course he owned the angels. Not in a creepy way, but they were his creations. Ergo, he owned them. Chuck didn’t like a lot of the Bible, but there was that passage. The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it. He was down with that.

“I owe you?” he repeated, staring at Castiel. “I don’t owe you anything, son. I’ve been more than patient with you. I’ve explained where I was, why I didn’t answer your prayers. I apologised. But you just won’t listen.” His voice was calm, matter-of-fact, like he was talking to a toddler, because he was. He was old when Castiel was formed. His son might have seen thousands of years, but he was still a child to Chuck. And him cursing like a human was just proof of how far Castiel had fallen. Chuck raised his eyebrows, not so much surprised as amused. Fuck you? Yeah. He sounded just like Dean Winchester.

He watched calmly as Castiel fell apart in front of him. He knew this had happened to Lucifer when he was cast out from Heaven, but he’d never watched it. Castiel’s wings were in tatters, his halo had cracked, and when he fell to his feet, Chuck just looked down at him. It was a real shame, but he didn’t see his son, not really. He saw a rebellious soldier, finally being put in his place. And he turned and walked away. Castiel didn’t want him, he didn’t wanna listen. So he would suffer the consequences of his actions. Just like Lucifer had.

He’d almost made it to the door when Castiel called out to him. I need your help. Chuck stopped walking. He heard the pain in his angel’s voice, the anger and hurt and humiliation. Was it enough? Had he done penance for acting out? It was tricky to decide. He turned around and looked at Castiel, his once-favourite angel, the first one to act out and go his own path, break the rules of the story, the role that an angel was meant to fill. And he sighed. There was every possibility that Castiel would die if he didn’t do something. And it was obvious that it hurt him to admit that he needed God’s help. Castiel had done his time. He deserved to be forgiven.

“Alright, Castiel,” he said, softly. And he knelt beside his broken angel, and laid a hand on him. He let the healing energy flow out, more powerful than any angelic grace, more pure and clean than any other power in Heaven. Pure, unfettered, creation. He let it seal the cracks in his son’s halo with white light, let it restore his moulting, shredded, wings, and soothe his filthy, disgusting, grace. After a few seconds, he let his hand fall and just sat there on the ground, next to Castiel. “You know,” he said, in the same gentle voice, “I do love you. It hurt me to see you doing that to yourself. But you should be healed now.” He didn’t expect thanks. That wasn’t why he’d done it. He managed a small, encouraging, smile. “You’re welcome.”

“You didn’t explain. You made excuses, just like you always do, to attempt to apologize for creating us and leaving us to die.” Castiel wasn’t ready to forgive him for anything. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to forgive him. He hadn’t asked for apologies, he wanted the truth, and it was what Chuck never understood. “Do you realize I don’t want you to apologize?” It was a simple question, one he had since he had heard everything he had to say. “I’m just done with your lies. With how you always disappear when it’s convenient for your selfish self to do so. I’m done with you.”

And he wanted to keep going like that, but then he collapsed. All this hurt, this pain, it was excruciating and Castiel remembered the first time it had happened. Stripped from his powers first, stripped from his wings then, and it seemed like the history was repeating itself over and over again. It felt like his wings were clipped and he was tied down to Heaven and their wishes, all the time. And God, how it kept bothering him. 

But then, he felt his father’s hand on him. Which for once truly felt like a father, the warmth of the light and how soothing it was once the pain disappeared. But after it was done, after a second or two, he realized himself how he had destroyed what he believed in even more. He shouldn’t have asked him for help, because now, now he owed him. More than his father to him. And he would’ve given anything to be out of this all. 

As he looked at his own wings, he still didn’t feel like it all was fixed. His mind was so shattered, corrupted, and even if blood didn’t taint his black feathers, his hands were still covered in it. So he stayed silent for a second, before his eyes found back his father and the angel shook his head. “I still don’t believe in you.” It was on a lower tone than usual, and it was only because he knew, deep down, how wrong it was. Maybe he was more similar to Lucifer than he had always thought he was. “Maybe you can’t help.” And now it was a whisper. Because he was fully aware it was a work he had to do on himself. Control and tame the beast. Stop it from destroying himself in the process. But what is an angel without his faith? Simple thought, with a more simple answer that came in his head. Monster.

had the destination finally shown a sour side ?? of course it had, having the nerve to bring people whom knew him. especially having to lay eyes on the one who snuffed him ( pierced with the blade ) or so he had assumed, not having laid eyes on the weapon itself. perhaps for the best, although being stabbed literally in the back was distasteful. balthazar only allowed a closed mouth half smile at hearing his own name, of course castiel would recognize him immediately; how could he not ?? aside from angels having the ability to see each other ( and others ) in their true form. “ fine, fine. “ waving his hands in the air, taking a seat on the nearest and suitable thing. “ go ahead, let out the silly excuse in which you no doubt have been thinking about. ” crossing his legs and motioning to signal the other to come out with it. “ not that I particularly care, of course, I just have this urge to hear what you’ve come up with. "

“Why would I tell you then? It seems like you’ve already made your mind about it.” Castiel only stated with a tilt of his head. How could he even explain what truly had happened back then? He had no idea himself. “I was overwhelmed by power, brother. You said yourself that it would happen. I thought I was right when I was not and when you went to ally with the Winchesters, whom I had pushed away myself, I took it for treason. Which I realized was not, for you were attempting to protect me.” He pointed out, furrowing his brows slightly. “And believe me if I could go back, I would. I broke so many things after you were gone that I probably won’t ever be able to fix.” And it was his way to say he broke himself more than anything else.

Dean wasn’t surprised when he noticed the glowing eyes. Cas even warned him about punching him earlier and all the times prior to. He just couldn’t seem to keep himself calm enough when it came to Cas. His temper was practically uncontrollable, it is why they didn’t seem to get along much anymore and he respected the reasons for Cas coming here to try and resolve things, get their relationship back to where it used to be before all of that complicated shit but Dean was admittedly making it extremely difficult. He couldn’t help but mock the glowing eyes, “oooh what are you going to do? Get all meta angel on me?” He stated sarcastically. He’d come looking for an apology for something Dean still wasn’t sure about but that comment he’d just made about Sam was not something Dean was willing to tolerate. He could expect an apology for the same reason but it didn’t even phase him. He knew it wasn’t true and if there was one thing he was proud of himself for, it was how much he really did love Sam. When he had moments of not feeling anything, he could rely on what he felt for Sam and it brought him comfort and balance. Dean could continue to comment about everything Cas was saying but really it wouldn’t get them anywhere but down and the goal was to go up but when he mentioned the deal with Lucifer, he couldn’t help but throw his hands up in frustration, “OF COURSE you did!” He scolded him his voice raising in anger and annoyance. “And what exactly sort of FAVOR would he owe you?” He asked, narrowing his eyes curiously, “can’t make deals you don’t have a soul,” he mocked, “you know what I meant!” He shouted today being one of those days he was losing his patience with his friend’s over technicality tendencies. 

He was doing it again, letting himself get overly upset and angry over nothing. He WANTED to fix it, he NEEDED to fix it. He missed him. He used his hands to rub at his head, letting out a sigh in frustration as he made his way back over to the table, plopping into the chair feeling more defeated than anything, “this isn’t working, man, this isn’t getting us anywhere. What the hell happened to us?” He asked mostly to himself as he shook his head before looking back to Cas as his friend finally confessed what it was he wanted an apology for.  He stared at him in confusion for a brief moment as if trying to remember what he was talking about until it all came flooding back. Krampus, their fight, the punch, the attempt to stab him and the fact he’d completely lost control and killed someone in cold blood, whom his opinion still deserved it but she did nothing to provoke it that night. “Jesus, Cas is that what this is about?” He asked, it wasn’t the first time he’d lost control and said things he didn’t mean but usually putting his hand up in a warning to him about taking the Lord’s name in vain and shaking his head, “Don’t say it.” He warned letting his friend know that he wasn’t in the mood to hear that bullshit. “I don’t even remember what I said that night, man. Most of it is all a blur but you have to know that wasn’t me. I mean it was me but it wasn’t me.” He felt a strange sense of deja vu it wasn’t too long ago that Cas was the one saying hurtful things because of a reason he had no control over and in cases like that it was usually an understanding that everything said wasn’t true and he did remember Cas telling him he was the reason he fell and he could easily bring that up again but there was no reason especially since he was acknowledging that wasn’t true. “It came from a bad place. I said that on purpose to try to get to you. I wanted to hurt you but I am sorry. I am. I am sorry for everything I let that fucker do to me. I don’t really feel that way, you got to know that.” He isn’t someone that begged or pleaded often but the look in his eyes showed the pleading desperation for Cas to believe him. “So are we good?”

He gritted his teeth and let out a low growl when Cas mentioned Chuck, all of his reasons the same one as his for why he was upset and unforgiving towards that bastard. He didn’t even want to give him that kind of power because he didn’t deserve it. God deserved no credit at all and Dean resented the fact he’d fallen victim to his control but on the other hand, he was more than happy to place the blame somewhere. Chuck or God deserved every single blame there was to bare. “You’re damn right it is! If you’re going to blame anyone blame him and his sick little game. Treating us all like puppets on a string he can pull whenever the hell he feels like it,” He balled his hand into a fist, slamming it onto the table in attempt to let out the pent up frustration at his lack of control over his own life. He always refused to believe there was some higher power in charge despite the fact he knew it all existed but he still believed he made his own choices, choices that were manipulated by Chuck’s will. “I swear if I see that asshole again I will wring his neck.” He scrunched up his face when he saw the expression on his friends’ face, he knew he was probably conflicted with him literally being his family but Dean wasn’t going to let him falter. “Oh no, no, no, no, don’t you get all weepy over that jackass. Focus, Cas, come on. He’s not a good person. He doesn’t give a shit about you or anyone else everything he’s done has been to benefit himself. I need you to stay with me on this one. Please? Wipe that longing expression for your father off of your face and get your head in the game. He deserves everything he’s got coming to him.”

There was a thing making Castiel crave more power at this instant. The way the human was talking to him was not pleasing him at all, and he’d be damned if he was going to let him do that again. Shit, he had grown too close to him that he thought he could patronize him? That was something else now. “I don’t need to go all ‘meta angel’ on you to kick your ass. Watch your tone.” He was not going to let him talk to him that way, and the louder voice at his last three words was there to prove it. He couldn’t hear it himself, the ringing, but at the sound of the windows shaking, he knew that he spoke loud enough, with his angelic voice to add to it. But he stopped it fast enough, that would’ve been unfortunate to actually hurt Dean there. “He’ll tell me when he needs a favor and I will give it back. It’s none of your business, anyway.” The angel only stated. Jesus, why did this human always attempt to get his head into his shit? It was Castiel’s problem, not his.

Was it what it was all about? Yeah, in fact. Castiel had been hurt by those words, more than anything else. He didn’t mind the attempt to kill him that much, because damn he had done the same, so long ago. He had done the same and he knew he hadn’t been himself either. “Just like with the poison.” He pointed out when he spoke. It was him, but it wasn’t him. He remembered how stuck he had felt himself, and he couldn’t wish that for Dean. Even after all that happened between them. “I understand. I know what it feels like.” Because it had happened to him twice. The leviathans. The poison. And he still was so scared for it to come back again. “We’re good. Thank you. And to be fair, I did stab you so I did get my revenge in a way.” Even if he hadn’t been willing to stab him, but someone else.

As he heard Dean’s reaction over him talking about his father, Castiel actually got surprised. When was it that they were both agreeing on one thing for the last time? God, it felt so old, but it felt so good at the same time. “Please, do let me help if that actually happen.” Because, in fact, Castiel was angry at Chuck. For all the prayers he had done, without getting any answer. “You know I prayed to him. Almost everyday. And he never answered. I think I never felt so.. Humiliated in all of my life.” Because he wasn’t supposed to pray, and even less when no one was listening. It had been like talking to a wall, hopeless and useless. “I guess I just miss thinking he would ever change.” He just stated. “I know he deserves it. In the end he’ll always end up losing. It’s either he stops or he kills us, but if he does he won’t have us as puppets anymore. We win.”

“Oh sure, that makes sense,” Chuck said, sarcastically. Castiel didn’t want him back, he wanted his father back? The kid was so far gone he didn’t even know what he wanted. He was just trying to get a cool line out, to sound rebellious. His eyes were burning with silver grace, and Chuck could feel him fighting back against the hold, but he didn’t let up. He wasnt’ gonna hurt Castiel, but he didn’t want to let him go just yet. He’d been disrespectful. This was just a quick and easy way to make him listen. So, he held him up there on the wall, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, to show his son that it took almost no effort at all to keep him there.

Castiel said he didn’t own them, and Chuck scoffed. “Jeez, you make me sound like a dictator,” he said, disgusted. He’d never thought he owned the angels, at least not in a weird way, not the way Castiel meant it. They were his creation, his soldiers. He owned them the way a general owned his army. They were his. “Of course I own you,” he said. “I made you, didn’t I?” He saw the feathers fall from his son’s wings, smattered with blood, and wrinkled his nose. Castiel was literally falling apart because of his sin. The way Lucifer had. And he was still vowing to carry on whatever revenge kick this was.

Chuck didn’t say anything when Castiel told him to go away. He just watched as his once favourite angel’s halo shattered like glass, and his light dimmed. It was such an act of defiance, such a blasphemous thing to do, that Castiel’s angelic form was rejecting it. In a way, it was kind of fascinating. Chuck had never seen this happen up close. It was like watching a celestial car crash. “That looked painful,” he said, with absolutely no sympathy. Castiel deserved it, for what he was doing. He was doing this to himself. Chuck was simply watching it happen. After a moment, he shrugged to himself, and dropped Castiel without any warning, letting him fall from his grip onto the floor. “Fine.” he said, bluntly, and he turned to leave.

Deep down, Castiel knew it couldn’t make sense to his father. Because he had never been one. He had been a God, a fucker that did nothing but complain and feel sorry for himself while never trying to understand the other parties, because all he cared about was himself. How was he supposed to make him understand? “It does.” He only answered. “I don’t want you back. I only need someone you never were and you never will be.” But still, it had been someone he had seen in him for the last thirteen billion years, but now it was all so different.

“Aren’t you one though?” One honest question. He was the one giving the plan, ordering the killings, the wars, the murders, punishments and all of those things. For centuries, Castiel had seen how wrong it was for the world but how right he had made it seem to be, and he had said nothing in fear of what would’ve happened if he had done so. It was exactly what Heaven was, a dictatorship. “That’s all you are. A creator. You don’t own me. Nor the other angels.” He stated. “You might have created us, but we don’t owe you anything. Through all those centuries we gave you so much without getting anything in return, if anything? You owe us. We’re not your things, we’re not your soldiers, we’re people. The only person owning us is ourselves. So fuck off.”

closed starter @seraphichearts // balthazar && castiel.

frequenting all of which washington had to offer was appealing upon resurrection, frankly, it began to lose it’s touch. how was an angel supposed to enjoy freedom while confined ?? the only one whom could be blamed was the one responsible for his existence; would he bother to bring him back ?? he was never the actual favorite ( or the others constant rebuilding suggested such ) which speak of the devil. balthazar rose from his chair to gain eye contact, “ cas. “ announcing while spreading his arms in dramatization, “ my comrade, brother. ” at this point the words were borderline offensive. the friendliness wore off as facial features hardened, “ have you come to stab me in the back again, brother ?? or is your cherub nearby to do it for you ?? “ to say the extent of the betrayal still hurt was an understatement. 

Truth be told, Castiel had not been expecting to see anyone particular on that day. For once, he really had wanted to be left alone, with no one bothering him in his little things, and it was mostly for he was starting to truly lose it. He hadn’t expected a loss of belief in his father to mess him up that much, and now he had no idea how he could even find some faith in him back. So, while he was attempting to figure this out, he was going to leave everyone away from him. Or so he thought, before he heard that person talk to him. As he turned to him, he understood immediately who it was. “Balthazar?” He asked, actually surprised. Fuck, he was supposed to be dead. He had killed him, and the guilt he felt couldn’t be stronger at this point. Silent until the other finished speaking, the angel raised his eyebrows, nodding. “...Fair, I deserve that.” He murmured. “I was not myself, brother.” He only stated, frowning slightly. “I could explain it to you, if you give me the chance.”

Adrien Agreste - @cataclysmichearts - 1/2 (Miraculous) - nova. Draco Malfoy - @viperoushearts​ - 2/2 (Harry Potter) - kurt, rory. Godric Gryffindor - @griffinhearts - 2/2 (Harry Potter) - helga, conner. Kaz Brekker - @demjinhearts​ - 2/2 (Grishaverse) - vincent, allison.

the witch honestly felt like she was losing it, stuck here. and every day that went by without her being able to fix it, she felt more and more useless. so she found herself in a bar with a beer in her hand. she still couldn’t stand the taste, but it was a distraction. “what brings you here?” she remarked casually, looking over at the person next to her.

He couldn't handle it. It was a simple way to say that Castiel was losing everything he had, again, and somehow he couldn't stop it. It was as if something darker, deeper inside of him was eating him alive, and he couldn't get it to just stop. So, he had decided to try to forget about it through beers and alcohol. It had worked wonders when he was human, why not now? "I need to forget about everything for a bit." The angel stated, taking a sip. "You?"