ℂ𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕝 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heraldingangel) wrote2019-02-10 10:45 am
heraldingangel) wrote2019-02-10 10:45 amEntry tags:
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deerington
Prayer: Cas can hear prayers from anywhere. Feel free to call on him anytime and he'll show up.
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heraldingangel) wrote2019-02-10 10:45 am
deerington
no subject
It seems he and Dean finally had something in common that didn't revolve around Heaven or Hell, and uniquely human. ]
Any?
Decadence. Indulgences. Those, he can understand, but depravity? Behind him, his wings shift, unsettled at the thought.
no subject
afraid you'll have to get more specific
are you asking if imbibe various kinds of alcohol and narcotics? are you asking if I fuck pretty much anyone who'll have me? are you asking if I host orgies that would make even gabriel blush?
the answer's yes either way
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No one ever chose to go down the path of debauchery without a trail of broken bones. Only the broken. The destitute. The ones that didn't have anything left. But... he had Dean, didn't he? Dean who tried to blame himself for an end he'd chosen. He has no doubt Castiel knew what awaited him. How could he not? He hadn't served as a long-standing garrison angel, endured millennia of battles, not to see Dean's plan for what it was - He had become expendable. In that last push to reach Lucifer and kill him, Dean had bet it all.
And lost it all. ]
I'm asking if you hurt anyone.
Everything else is inconsequential.
no subject
Other than Dean?
Other than himself? ]
i leave the torture to my fearless leader
[ No, if there's something specific Castiel wants to have confirmed or denied, he'll have to ask it point blank, too. ]
no subject
Did he even have faith left? Not in the corrupted Host of Heaven, but in God? Their Father. A question that lingers at the edge of thoughts before another rushes in to take its place before he can lend voice to it. Dean... went back to Alitair's methods?
His facade of neutrality finally breaks and he stands, quick and fast. Black wings spread out behind him, slicing through the air, shaking off the feeling of dread that crawls up his spine. The Dean he knows was nearly destroyed when they forced him to interrogate Alistair. To be cut off at every turn and be forced into that situation again... no wonder he'd been the broken shell of a man he'd once known.
But this wasn't about Dean, it wasn't about him. But the angel that was far too familiar yet so very different. ]
That's not true.
You're torturing yourself.
no subject
[ Cas feels it, that tick in his jaw. The bile rising to the back of his throat as his fingers tremble on the fluid. ]
don't be sanctimonious just because you haven't found your happy place yet
[ Barbed wire wrapped around his tongue to cut others, and try hard as he can to ignore how it cuts himself, too. An arm's length, and never closer - especially not someone who knows the height from which he fell better than anyone else.
Cas tosses the fluid down on the couch - and he will refuse to re-engage, for now. He's learned from the best to violently shut down when something strikes a painful chord. ]
no subject
The only question that remains is - why? Why was he torturing himself? He understands the pain of falling. Of losing faith in everything he's ever believed in. He lived it.
But he also got up and continued forward because he had Sam and Dean. And Bobby. His broken family that meant more to him than the place he'd called home since his creation. Did losing Sam the final straw? Did it break him?
A question for another time. He didn't mean to push him, he only said what he saw. For now, he'll let that thread fall between them and picks up another. ]
Who says I haven't?