I may be going off to treatment, but at least I got another piercing for my birthday before I left!
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I may be going off to treatment, but at least I got another piercing for my birthday before I left!
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Happy birthday jared! [source]
I think there was just butter on my iPhone.
Jared Padalecki (July 18, 2015)
!Short blog change!
Since supernatural is on hiatus and nothing in the fandom is going on I'm gonna post a lot of stuff that isn't supernatural related so just hang in there until the hiatus is over and I'll be back to full time spn and you may wonder why I don't create a side blog and that is because I am 10000% pure laziness it'll mostly be Steven universe and more than likely marvel so blacklist: /su/ and /marvel/ if that's not your fandom
i felt like writing some angst, let’s hope it’s good :)
Meeting him was fire, light in hell for the first time in millennia. Castiel was expecting something broken and dull, but the soul he found was inexplicably bright. Tarnished and fractured, yes, but it was like a grain of dust trying to obscure the sun. This was Dean Winchester, the righteous man. The name had been on the tongues of angels for centuries, but to see the man for the first time left Castiel speechless.
The existence of such something so beautiful, so inexorably good, in the middle of so much pain and blood seemed wrong. Castiel wrapped his arms around the soul, holding as tight as he could. Despite it's struggling, Castiel flapped his wings, shooting upward. Hell howled in unison, every demon in its command after him. Even with claws and teeth tearing at him from every side, Castiel was unstoppable. He had his prize. Heaven had won.
With every fiber of his being, Castiel cried, "Dean Winchester is saved!" Even then, he could feel himself beginning to fall.
Losing him is watching the world grow dim. Everything feels numb, like static pouring in through all of his senses. Cas is in an old farm house, long since abandoned. It creaks around him, shifting on rusty nails as what is left of its walls threatens to buckle. But none of that matters to Cas; everything that matters, everything he fell for, is buried under six feet of freshly churned earth half a mile away.
A steady stream of tears drips down his nose and lands on the dusty floor where he sits with his head between his knees. Cas buries the heels of his hands in his eyes. This is the first time he’s cried in all of his eons of existence. His brothers and sisters would laugh at him, slander him for caring so much about a human. But what does it matter, heaven isn’t his home anymore. His home has crows feet and green eyes and a smile like the sun in summer.
Cas should be helping Sam, but he deserves at least one moment of grief. He stands, wavering slightly. How humans can do this, he has no idea. Loss drains Cas. It feels like his grace is seeping through every one of his pores.
He steels himself to go back outside. Everything about this feels like it should be impossible. First his life had been black and white, no emotion and all order. But with Dean, everything had exploded into color. It was confusing and terrifying and brilliant, and it had become his life in the last seven years. Cas can't imagine a world without Dean anymore. There's no way he can return to his life as it was before; he doesn't want to. But he doesn't know how to be human without Dean, even if he has Sam. But he needs to face the world. He has to.