#you're such a strong soldier crowley | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cvlutos · 1 year

Text

TWISTED WONDERLAND: DEMON AU

OVERVIEW:

In a world of demons and angels, you are merely a human. Tied to no one, and nothing. Living on the outskirts of a small town, away from everyone and everything. While demons to the North rage war and shed blood. This war was started by Demon King Malleus Draconia, one who despises humans. The war doesn’t bother you here, not within the Ramshackle.

—NRC [NIGHT RAVEN CAPITAL] - Overrun with Demons, the first to be attacked by the ravenous monsters. Yet they stand strong and force the demons to remain in the North. Ruled by Dire Crowley. Said to be MIA, yet keeps the capital protected.

—NBC [NOBLE BELL CITY] - The third largest city in the East. Protected against the demons that attempted to make haste toward them. They remain neutral and keep to themselves. Ran by Rollo Flamme. Said to be blessed by the angels, yet has multiple deals with demons.

—RSA [ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY] - A large school located in the South. Said to be blessed by angels and ruled by them. They protect its borders with light magic and provided to those of the West and South. No demons have attempted to reach the South.

DEMON ARMY ONE: HEARTSLABYUL ~ WRATH

The Fire Demon Army, is ruled by Commander Sanguinum, this is the human name given to the demon of pride; Riddle Rosehearts.

A tyrant, hot-headed ruler that brands each demon, usually upon their face, with the mark of a card. He rules with an iron fist and answers any command from the King with abominable action instead of mere words. He’s ruthless, and bloodthirsty. Some say you can hear his yells of order across burning fields. Sometimes at night, you can feel the heat from the war and the smell of blood. Yet when you awake, all is fine.

Positions:

—Commander: Sanguinum ~ Demon of Pride

Youngest Demon Commander, and the first way upon the earth. Reaping devastation and bringing along intense heat. Burning homes and forests, and eating those who lived within the North. His ranks travel west.

—General: Trey “Trifol” Clover ~ Demon of Gluttony

Said to have the ability to turn the toughest of meat delectable, and uses humans as his preferred meat. He is unassuming, almost human, except for the club mark beneath his eyes. The moment you notice is the moment you die.

High Ranked Soldiers:

—Cater "Amonian" Diamond ~ Demon of Lust

The flash photographer demon. Says to use his demonic camera, and once he has a photo of you, he can easily consume your soul. Some say he pretends to be a friend, a loved one, to copy the traits of anyone you know and eat you that way.

—Ace "Traepula" Trappola ~ Demon of Greed

Mind Demon, says to speak as if he was nothing more than a teenage boy, yet his words burn the skin, and you erupt in flames.

—Deuce "Spaede" Spade ~ Demon of Wrath

One seen within battle. A brute of pure unfiltered strength. Yet some say that you can hear his sobs as he tears humans in two.

"To cross his path—you're begging for him to take your head—"

══════ ♡ ══════

DEMON ARMY TWO: SAVANNA ~ ENVY

The Beast Demon Army, ruled by Commander Callidus, the human name given to the demon of Envy; Leona Kingscholar.

A carnivorous, prideful ruler that rarely appears upon the battlefield, leaving his lackeys to do his horrid work. To capture humans and bring them to his den. He rules with animal instinct. Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. He is savage, yet quite lazy. He brings famine. He dries the farmlands, eats, and consumes the cattle.

Positions:

—Commander: Callidus ~ Demon of Envy

Oldest Demon Commander, and the second way upon earth. Reaping devastation and bringing along the violent starvation. Some say that he refuses to harm the woman and young children. Leaving them to be killed by the third wave.

—General: Ruggie "Rubui" Bucchi ~ Demon of Sloth

The basic form of possession, taking over your body and forcing you to attack your own with a full conscious mind. Letting you harm all those around you while you plead for it to end.

High Ranked Soldiers:

—Jack "Hojal" Howl ~ Demon of Pride

A beast. Large and daunting. That you hear before you see. As jaws clamp around you before you can react. He is vicious. He was once an admired village boy, whose father was a demon. Yet they loved him nonetheless, cared for him, yet he ate all within his home. No survivors.

"You’ll be torn apart the minute you hear his sickening roar…"

══════ ♡ ══════

DEMON ARMY THREE: OCTAVINELLE ~ GREED

The Sea-Monster Demon Army, ruled by Commander Azhen, the human name given to the demon of Greed; Azul Ashengrotto.

A charming, seducing ruler. One that appears up the battlefield with no army but himself and two others. Who picks the weakest and offers them a deal. To survive and escape while his village dies. Or die with his people. A deal that ends with him collecting your soul. He brings the flood. Drowning and wiping entire towns off the map. Nothing remains after his devastation.

Positions:

—Commander: Azhen ~ Demon of Greed

The most secretive demon commander. Said to collect human souls and instead of eating them, he forces him into the body of dead demons and monsters. Forcing him to work for him once again.

—General: Jade "Jaleec" Leech ~ Demon of Wrath

To take over your mind and break you apart from the inside. He doesn’t need to lay a hand on you to kill you and leave you defenseless. Leaving you to the less-sentient beings of the night.

High Ranked Soldiers:

—Floyd "Floich" Leech ~ Demon of Gluttony

Once you’re his target, there is no escaping. He’ll squeeze and squeeze till you pop. Sometimes he’ll dine upon his kill, but more times than not. He does it merely for fun.

"You should drown—those who survive only become a snack—"

══════ ♡ ══════

DEMON ARMY FOUR: SCARABIA ~ LUST

The Desert Demon Army, ruled by Commander Kalas, the human name given to the demon of Gluttony; Kalim Al-Asim.

The most humane army. The one that seems almost a beacon. That bargains, before it attacks. Like a rattlesnake giving its warning. Leave. Surrender peacefully. Live. Escape. He can only pity. Yet humans are stubborn, as a wave of desire through the night tempts the people from their homes. To dance with the creatures, only to find death. A massacre that happened within the town square, as their bodies turned into gold.

Positions:

—Commander: Kalas ~ Demon of Gluttony

The only demon commander with human blood within him. He shows pity and wishes for this war to never happen. So it is Jamil who takes charge. Kalim is nothing but a puppet.

—General: Jamil "Viejal" Viper ~ Demon of Pride

He has no fear of ending humans. Enjoy the chaos. Using poisonous ways to trick the mind, and for them to succumb to deathly desires.

"Ignore the voice within your mind—it is a snake trying to sink his fangs into you."

══════ ♡ ══════

DEMON ARMY FIVE: POMEFIORE ~ GLUTTONY

The Blood Demon Army, ruled by Commander Vishoti, the human name given to the demon of Lust; Vil Schoenheit.

A beauty. Truly. You’d think such beauty would make them that of lust, yet they’re unsated. Enough is not enough. They force you to unwind, give more than you can give, till you're nothing but a shrivel husk. There is no bloodshed. Instead, all beauty is sucked from you. Leaving you nothing but dust.

Positions:

—Commander: Vishoti ~ Demon of Lust

The most divine of all commanders. Purely perfect. That sucks your soul to give him more beauty and strengthen his forces. He finds blood messy. Never shall it dare touch his hands, yet he is not afraid to kill, in more toxic ways.

—General: Rook "—" Hunt ~ Demon of Gluttony

No one is sure if he is a demon or merely a human bound to one. Not much is known about him. Expect that he is the only one from the fifth army to spill blood.

High Ranked Soldiers:

—Epel "Epfeli" Felmier ~ Demon of Wrath

A human boy, bound for Vil. Who is unruly and hot-headed. He doesn’t hesitate to attack. To kill and pillage. To desecrate everyone. No one in his path survives.

"Run."

══════ ♡ ══════

DEMON ARMY SIX: IGNIHYDE ~ SLOTH

The Technological Demon Army, ruled by Commander Idia, the human name given to the demon of Sloth; Idia Shroud.

The only demon who remains the same. The demon army of mutilation. Who only appears and kidnaps men and women. Taking them to his labs and testing them. Fusing them together with demons, with machines. A bloody mess that he creates that he sends back to their village to eat and kill. It’s sad that his "children" only last a few hours before they cry in pain and fall apart.

Positions:

—Commander: Idia ~ Demon of Sloth

They say he adores children, and refuses to hurt them. Allowing them to survive the destruction that follows. He sweeps the children in his dead embrace and gives them a new life as demons.

—General: Ortho "Ortho" Shroud ~ Demon of Sloth

A machine, demon, human hybrid. That is Idia’s shadow and carries out any orders without hesitation. There is no escaping Ortho.

"—He’ll turn you into a machine… He’ll sew your flesh to the ones you care for… Take your life before he does…"

══════ ♡ ══════

DEMON KINGDOM: DIASOMNIA ~ PRIDE

The King, ruling over all demons. He is the cause for this. The reason that all that befalls you and your world. No one knows much about the Kingdom, except that they despise humans. Or mortality.

Some say that Malleus Draconia, the Demon of Pride, who has no human name, fell in love with a mortal. Yet the humans couldn’t accept that, so they killed the mortal. Sending the King’s Lovers laid within a box. Others say the King kidnapped a mortal, locking him far away, and the humans fought back to retrieve the lost mortal, who was beloved royalty. Only for the demon to kill his lover in retaliation.

Positions:

—King: Malleus Draconia ~ Demon of Pride

The devil-horned King. Who hates humans.

—General: Lilia Vanrouge ~ Demon of Envy

Said to hate war and love humans. Found beside Malleus most times, yet some say they see him within the human forests.

High Ranked Soldiers:

—Sebek Zigvolt ~ Demon of Wrath

Half-Human and Half-Demon. Uses nothing but an ax and is immovable.

—Silver ~ Demon of Sloth

A human bound to Malleus. Truly a pity.

"I cannot help you…"

This man.

Stranger. Who appeared within the dead of night, asking for food and water. You know best then to deny, in case he brings wrath for your bitter heart.

You sit beside the fireplace, pulling the blanket farther over your shoulders, eyes glancing out the window. All looks fine. Silent. Yet you know better. Beyond the mountain range. Where war and bloodshed are happening. The man dines on the lukewarm stew, having already chugged his water. He’s dressed oddly. As if he was a crow. Yet he looks poor. Except for the golden mask that covers his face. He sneezes and you flinch, blinking, as you glance at the man as he seems to laugh at himself. You turn from him, returning your gaze out the window. The fire crackles, and you slowly exhale.

"Worried about the demons?"

"what?" You’re caught off guard. The man has shifted to where he’s now looking out the window.

"Worried? You don’t listen, do you?" He chuckles, waving his hand in a joking motion as you look rightfully so offended. He stands, stretching his muscles and moving to your ratted couch. Plopping down and eagerly patting the seat beside him. "Sit. Sit."

You do. Keeping distance from the stranger, yet he doesn’t seem bothered. "You never answered my question." You peek at him, and as expected, he’s staring. Slightly tilting his head like a bird. You almost smile.

"… I am… they’re getting closer…" You look back out the window, listening to the wind blow against your old home.

"I see… If it provides any comfort, you won’t die." He states matter-of-factly, and you can’t help but be confused. How can he promise that? Yet you don’t fully deny his words. You know better than anyone what his forest holds. Weirder things have happened.

"How do you know?"

The man shuffles through his pockets. Patting himself down, you can see his clothing. Elegant and expensive. He’s more important than you thought. He gives an excited yell, almost like a chirp, as he pulls a letter from his pocket. A letter horribly crinkled and horribly taken care of. He passes to you with a proud grin, more for himself that he kept the letter, then actually giving it to you.

Your name is on the letter, with a forest green wax seal. Unbroken. Dread fills your stomach as your fingers graze over the parchment. "I'll be going. We will meet again."

"Wai—" You look up from the envelope, only to find the place where the man was empty. He was gone. Yet black feathers remain where he once was. Magick. You sigh. Standing up from your seat, glancing back at the envelope before looking out the window. Beyond the forest, you could see the light of fire. Raging on. You tap the letter, pulling your blanket further over your arms, before walking towards the wooden steps to your bedroom.

"You'll survive—"

#t.manor.au #DEMON AU #tw dark content #tw blood #tw body gore #tw body horror #tw yandere #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland dark content

655 notes · View notes

idliketobeatree · 6 months

Text

I am begging ALL OF YOU, Good Omens fans, to listen to this song by Jesca Hoop (a lovely American singer-songwriter and guitarist), from the album "Memories are Now", released in 2017.

The Coming, huh? What a funny coincidence, right? Almost like the Second Coming?

And then it starts like this:

The song is dark and poignant, but more importantly - it is written almost like someone was plotting for a possible season 3. It's actually uncanny, how much it fits.

A quick artist background check: The narrator mirrors Hoop's struggles with religion. Raised traditional Mormon, she grew up singing hymns, and at 16 years old she lost her faith and stopped attending church. She describes the experience as freeing: she has "faith in people".

Overall, it's all too easy to imagine the narrator as Aziraphale, but we'll get back to that in a moment.

Let's focus on Jesus first. Analogically, in the song, he loses faith in himself, and refuses both Heaven and Earth to fulfill the prophecy. Jesus makes an interesting choice of alliance; he sits by the Devil. In a fit of desperation? fatigue?-- asks the advocate of Hell to help him become someone new. There's something beautiful about them being familiar, sitting arm in arm, almost friendly in the exchange. Jesus "was tempted for forty days by the Devil" (Luke 4:2), and he firmly refused then, but he goes back now: to his only salvation left.

The Devil doesn't get much characterisation, but we know he agreed to the terms. "The coming never came."

Now, back to the narrator. They're quite honest and self-aware of their role as an obeying servant to Jesus or/and God (as in Holy Trinity). In a world full of sinners it's necessary to keep people at bay, because not everyone can be saved. There's "only enough room at his table (...)/And they're coming to shut the gate/You're too little and too late". A strong implication of humans being a nuisance, a collateral damage in God's plan.

"But I don't buy it."

You see, the narrator has a strong motivation that they mention almost immediately after realising that -- good people are not getting in through the gate.

The best friend. We can assume she's someone very dear, and probably not that involved in religion. She doesn't deserve damnation, obviously. (Hello, Crowley.) Nobody does. Heaven doesn't really care about that.

The point is: they don't want to offer to save her anymore. Playing God's hand in this relationship would be an insult, condescending and belittling to her character. It's easy to be a soldier with nameless people, isn't it? Personal connections make all the difference.

There's also a little passage about not blaming your parents for "clinging to the good", which hits another personal note on the forgiving front.

The narrator is terrified of losing their sense of identity. It's a painful and slow process. Who are they, without the religion? How to fill the God-shaped hole in the heart, where it has grown large and uncomfortable, been there for ages?

The answer is: with other people.

The collective work of humanity on the matter of free will has an major impact on Earth. Our little choices contribute to the goodness as a whole, and it's not dictated nor defined by Heaven. No, it's all our doing. And we can make it a good place without religion.

Oh, and look at this. "Asking any kind of question could unravel me with one small fray"?

Pretty self-explanatory.

The song ends on an accusatory tone - at the religious figures who are mistakenly interpreting Jesus's teachings, justifying their fear-turned-hatred and "wrongdoings in his name". The narrator is scared personally, but outright - they're furious. Unable to ignore the horrifying unfairness of it all. The wars were never the intention of Jesus. He wouldn't sign another contract for massive destruction.

As a confirmation, there's a loop, a repeating of the first verses. The coming didn't came. Jesus is no longer a passive marionette on the strings of Heaven. He gives away the thorn crown - a symbol of his suffering for humanity's sins - and refuses to collaborate. He becomes an individual, maybe a different entity altogether. Needs some help from Hell, sure, but it works out in the end. No more wars. No more Heaven deciding who is worth it, and who isn't. It's just-- people, and their everyday lives.

If that isn't THE song synopsis for season 3, I don't know what is.

17 notes · View notes

thesherrinfordfacility · 9 months

Note

Longwinded anon again (thanks for the kind words!): You've brought out a few things in your last posts that crystalized some of my thoughts about the hole I complained about in one of my first posts here, left by the decision to never acknowledge that Crowley successfully tempts Aziraphale to try to kill the Antichrist. After S1 aired, Gaiman commented in an interview that Crowley does not have an actual character arc in S1. He is at the end what he was at the beginning. And my response at the time was, well, wait, he does have a transformative moment in the novel, this is strange. I think S2 in fact explores that lack of arc in an interesting way, and it /does/ think about the larger moral issues involved in the Antichrist temptation without referencing it directly.

Both S1 and S2 rely heavily on mirroring, included warped mirroring, to approach narrative structure and character development. In S1, after Aziraphale's discorporation, Crowley tries to reconstruct their normal dynamic--Crowley plays the white knight, Aziraphale the damsel in distress--on his arrival at the airfield, when he swaggers over from the burning Bentley and assures Aziraphale that he'll take care of the soldier ("Leave it to me"). Then the script /literally/ blows up the dynamic when the Bentley explodes, Crowley gets distracted, and Aziraphale has to take care of the soldier himself. And, of course, at the end the dynamic has been altered, because they save each other in the bodyswap. This looks like the relationship is now on a mutual egalitarian footing! Hooray!

...except S2 demonstrates that Crowley /liked/ the original dynamic, and he spends the season trying to manhandle (demonhandle?) Aziraphale back into it. Aziraphale asks for help with Gabriel, but Crowley interprets "help" as an excuse to play the strong protector again, through a combination of forced innocence (Crowley spends this season /not/ telling Aziraphale some important things about Gabriel and Heaven that Aziraphale needed and deserved to know) and, in the lead-up to the demon attack, outright dismissiveness of Aziraphale's ability to handle the situation. You referenced the dialogue there, which mirrors the "Leave it to me" of S1. But in S1, Aziraphale /was/ willing to leave it to Crowley, whereas here Aziraphale tries to assert his own capability and Crowley brushes it off. Nina, the character self-aware about being trapped in an abusive situation, temporarily stops the plot to call this out, and while Aziraphale cheerfully admits to being aware of what's going on (something left ambiguous in S1), unlike Nina he doesn't admit or doesn't see that what makes Crowley "happy" rests on perceiving Aziraphale as less capable and less powerful. Both physically (Aziraphale needs Crowley to fight for him) and psychologically (Aziraphale needs Crowley to protect him from full knowledge of his execution and from any knowledge that Heaven might murder him for helping Gabriel). I know that the fanfic community has quickly glommed onto "Aziraphale must apologize to the poor wronged demon" plots, but Crowley's inability to think himself out of this inegalitarian dynamic contributes directly to the break-up at the end of ep6, not least because we see him /help/ maintain Aziraphale's innocence about the extent of Heaven's malice.

good morning (well, it was morning when i started) LWA!!!✨ no problem at all, you're very welcome!!!

(further ask screenshots under the cut).

oh gosh yes i remember the ask you mean (everyone else, i believe it's this one). stating the obvious, if my previous posts criticising him are anything to go by, but the whole scene where crowley tempts aziraphale re: antichrist really does unnerve me, and was one of the key reasons why I think - although I do genuinely think crowley is a very empathetic character - i've always gravitated to aziraphale more. the parallel narrative of nina, with her story of surviving and escaping psychological and emotional abuse, really puts the spotlight on the level of aziraphale's naivety and indoctrination with anyone or anything that he believes confers any kind of worth onto him.

trauma from abuse does not stop when one escapes it, because it truly does alter your brain chemistry and emotional make-up into being more susceptible to finding any alternative that will give you a sense of value again. others have clearly remarked on it, but that is the most revelatory moment as concerns nina, for me; her knowledge of self and that she knows her own value, despite her recent abusive experience, is what diverts her parallel storyline with maggie into an adjacent position to aziraphale and crowley's.

and that's a really powerful point; i know that many people have remarked on the correlation between aziraphale and religious brainwashing (especially as concerns its relationship to queer identity, which is very, very valid), but i think what some may be refusing to also see is that aziraphale, in a very unique and particular way, is potentially experiencing some small, or large depending on your perspective, level of similar abusive behaviour (bracing myself for impact re: that statement).

i despair for aziraphale throughout most of the show, in that i interpret him as not only feeling that he's not enough ("that's okay, as long as i'm enough for crowley to see any worth in me") but also because he can't seem to see that anyone that wholly cares about him should be making him feel that he is more than enough, and accepting of every part of him - even his shortcomings. he shouldn't need to be manipulated into anything; he is by large an inherently good and loving person (as far as we've been shown), is shown to gravitate towards those that might need his help (*cough* crowley), and that the fact that he can't seem to see that if others do not trust or like him enough to be honest and vulnerable with him, when he hasn't really done anything to make them believe that they can't, that is entirely their issue/failing, not his.

such, to me, is why his decision to break away and follow his own path to heaven, following an opportunity to do something not only largely altruistic but also something that might help him develop a sense of value entirely on his own, is exactly the right decision for him to make when taking all of this emotional and psychological context into consideration.

as discussed in the last ask, crowley does appear to have a tendency for making aziraphale seem or feel lesser than him, by way of the dance (humiliation), disingenuous apologies (gaslighting), keeping secrets (imbalanced power dynamic) and constantly saving him and dismissing his ability to save himself (removing agency). crowley in contrast to aziraphale has his own brand of insecurity but that is in my opinion not rooted in a lack of self-worth. it is rooted in knowing that he had and has much to give, but it being rejected.

i hate to defer to psychological terminology that is innately human when referring to supernatural beings, but for lack of a better option; crowley's cognitive dissonance in ep6 of his belief ("helping to improve heaven is useless and they'll never change") and his action (manipulates aziraphale into trying to stay with him, ignoring aziraphale's own wants and aspirations) result in his choosing to believe that aziraphale doesn't love him for who he is - choosing the rejection narrative - rather than choosing to trust in aziraphale that they have the ability, together, to make a change that will benefit them as much as everyone else (which is what aziraphale is inviting him to).

the fact that this is rooted in rejection is key. i think it's fairly clear that crowley thinks himself to be of a higher status than aziraphale, harking back to his angel era (or at least purposefully tries to maintain the illusion that he is, rather than accept that they're - you know - equal). the overwhelming need, it seems, to plough on ahead and force aziraphale to keep pace with him whether he likes it or not, speaks to me of his committing to a 'failsafe' action that will protect him from being rejected, regardless of whatever good or clever thing he does, and this will naturally originate from the fall. as you say, aziraphale is similarly wrapped up in asserting his own superiority, especially where morality is concerned and thinking that he knows best for crowley in offering him restoration, but again - I feel like this stems from insecurity, especially in the face of a demon that is, to him, utterly brilliant and smart and sly, but also good and kind and brave.

neither are in the right - both are very much in the wrong - for even entertaining this mindset, but i do feel that once again crowley tips the scale on the morality front here. both were made to suffer from various trauma at the hands of heaven and hell, but the fact that crowley seems to perpetuate it with aziraphale (however much with original good intention, and perhaps without malicious intention) and so successfully to the point that aziraphale a) doesn't even really see it until ep6, and b) if aziraphale does see it, he possibly feels that it all that he deserves, is incredibly alarming.

in terms of a resolution, LWA✨, you've beaten me to the point i was going to make when your first ask came in! we are seeing two characters that were originally conceptualised as one, and now broken apart (both literally by way of the character design as well as in the narrative). i therefore find that the body swap in s1 was indeed the big hint to the audience (and should have been a big hint to aziraphale and crowley) that they are reflections of each other, and that is by extension the solution.

them simply forgiving each other and having meaningful communication is not going to be the Big Solution that makes them connect again. to me, there needs to be - after an actual, heartfelt apology and subsequent communication - a full, complete acceptance of each other, of their individual and conflicting minds, fears, wants, and ideologies, and understanding that they do not need, in fact, to be in conflict with each other, but instead are literally built as being complementary halves of the same coin✨

edit because i didn't address it: in my mind, my own personal, metaphorical jury is out on why the joint miracle had the result that it did, but the concept of it being literally because it's aziraphale and crowley working in harmony together is really intriguing!!!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #not a shitpost but its good omens babyyyy #ask #the legend of the longwinded anon✨

11 notes · View notes

shallowrambles · 1 year

Text

Dear diary, notes for tomorrow - interesting things to think about />>

When Cas found out his superiors were letting the seals fall, there are immediate implcations for the Dean mission in Hell being purposely botched; i.e. potentially, angels put forth bad intel to ground soldiers; potentially, did someone let the first blood get shed for The prized Destiny fight?

Need to rewatch and pay attention to if angels submitted to the prize fight idea before Dean shed blood, or simply went along with it after that fact. Michael sounded very convinced that the fight had to happen if I recall...

Either way, Cas might be suspicious they were letting it happen all along. It motivated him enough to determine that the angelic war was a war of aggression and manipulation on humans, and that in turn motivated him to break rank and try to get a message to the humans. That's a full on moral injury; "my cause is corrupt; my superiors are acting wrongly" injury

Then he got tortured. :(

////

And later in Chuck's house>>> Raphael killing Cas = personal betrayal to him? He knew he would die but maybe he was surprised a little bit, hurt, even (vengeful?) Could this have set up a personal thing with Raphael. It seemed personal in 5x03. I like the idea of Cas being closer to Raphael and it representing a more hurtful breach. (i don't think it's a new idea in fandom; i just like it)

////

Why was Raphael so demoralized. "We just want it to be over." Why so despondant, nihilistic, depressed?" Why was he so rearin' to pick up the apocalypse again? Is he just nihilistic? Similar to AU Michael? Or lost without his brothers. It's a life without meaning, immortality without reprieve...

Metatron changes only when he almost dies, right before he meets up with Chuck. It was the almost-dying, mercy, and miracle of being alive that renewed him to the point he stood up to Chuck.

////

After the end of season 5, Cas went to Heaven to be like a "sheriff." That looked callous to Dean BUT Cas was concerned about the chaos...worried

He snapped into mission mode immediately but kept the details mostly private.

He then became ashamed of the angels for wanting to go after the humans again. Frustrated.

////

And due to what he went through in seasons 4-5, he's got that weighty moral injury telling his brain to be mistrustful of superiors and angels. Of course, he's feeling like he is partially home, and partially in enemy territory. Of course that sets him up to distrust his angelic soldiers, even the ones going up against Raphael with him!

The fallout of this is why Cas needs constant reassurance from his soldiers, and it's why he needs allegiance to feel comfortable.

His "family" operated in this all-or-nothing fashion. To Cas, this is what support looks like. To Cas, this is the type of power his distant father wielded. Loving punishment. Ruthlessness punctuated with gentleness.

////

And I think about this one a lot:

Would he have started a civil war without Crowley or submitted to / died heroically against Raphael?

CROWLEY What are you planning to do about Raphael?

CASTIEL What can I do besides submit or die?

CROWLEY Submit or die? What are you, French? How about resist?

CASTIEL I'm not strong enough, and you know it.

CROWLEY Ah, not on your own, you're not. But you're not on your own, are you? There's a lot of angels swooning over you. "God's favorite." Buddy boy, you've got what they call sex appeal.

CASTIEL Thank you. Get to the point.

CROWLEY Angels need leaders, so be one. Gather your army and kick the candy out of each and every angel that shows up for Raphael.

CASTIEL Are you proposing that I start a civil war in heaven?

CROWLEY Ding! Ding! Ding! Tell him what he's won, Vanna.

///

CASTIEL This is pointless. Your plan would take months, and I need help now.

///

CROWLEY Everything you've worked for -- everything that Sam and Dean have worked for -- gone. You can save us, Castiel. God chose you to save us. And I think...Deep down...You know that.

CASTIEL I wish I could say I was clean of pride at that moment...

INT. KEN LAY'S HEAVEN

CASTIEL Or the next. (Castiel uses the power of the souls to remove Raphael from the room.) There will be no Apocalypse. And let it be known -- you're either with Raphael or you're with me. And so went the long road of good intentions...The road that brought me here.

///

Cas's inability to trust his own rebel angels is interesting, but it does make sense and it results in a sort of wild, tragic (and often well founded) paranoia.

I just. Hmmmmm these problems existed in Cas way, way before The Winchesters. He's a morally injured soldier at this point, and it shows.

#interesting things to ponder #moral injury

1 note · View note

sofreddie · 3 years

Text

Sam's Revenge (Part 5)

Characters: Dean x Reader, OC Dean Jr. (DJ), Cas, Crowley

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of torture, Implied Torture, Violence, Blood, Teeniest bit o' fluff

Word Count: 1,058

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

PART 4

After the fallout at the Bunker, the remaining Elite families retreated to their own lands and compounds. The Winchester family compound - which had fallen secondary to the Bunker - was now home base of The Way. They had salvaged as much as they could from the Bunker and distributed it amongst the families.

The Council had decided, it was time for change.

Since they were essentially stripped down to their Tenents, they rebuilt The Way using them as their guidelines, bringing it back to what is was intended to be - a community of Hunters protecting the world from what lurks in the dark.

Dean was grateful for Y/N. She was smart and strong and wasn't afraid to voice her opinions. She spent much time and energy on assisting in rebuilding The Way alongside Dean and the other Elites. She'd become his best friend, his greatest ally, his right-hand.

Since the birth of their son - Dean Jr. - a month before, their fondness for each other grew into love. Dean wasn't sure how but he managed to love each of them more and more with each passing day. Seeing them together made his heart swell with love and pride. They were his. His family. He would do anything for them.

He didn't want his son to grow up how he'd had. Growing up in the Hunting life was inevitable for a Winchester, and Dean had accepted that. But Dean Jr. would have a better father. Dean would be better than John. He wouldn't mold his son into the perfect, obedient soldier. He wouldn't keep him in the life if he wanted something else.

He certainly would never torture him.

The birth of his son inspired Dean into action more than anything else. He worked hard day in and day out to build a future for The Way that his son would be proud to lead one day.

Sam would be proud too of what they've accomplished.

Not a day went by that Dean didn't think of his brother. If anyone was dealt a bad hand in life, it was Sam. Dean regretted enforcing Sam's exile. They were supposed to be by each others sides, always. But if he hadn't stuck by his duties as Leader, then he surely would have been exiled too.

Looking over at Y/N and Dean Jr. on the porch of the Winchester homestead together, smiling and happy, he knew he made the right call. Still didn't make it any easier on him though.

"Dean," he was brought from his musings by the calling of his name, turning to see his Angel friend, Castiel. After the fallout, Castiel stayed with Dean. He believed in his vision - and in him - and helped to rebuild The Way.

"I just came from the front gate," Cas explained, "There's something you should see."

Dean's brow furrowed as he followed Cas to the gate, wondering what it could possibly be to have his friend so stern and concerned. He too, was concerned when he saw what was waiting for him. Though it quickly changed to utter anger at the sight.

"Crowley," Dean ground out, his eyes skimming over the slumped figure of a man, held up between two of Dean's men. Someone had gotten to him first. It looked like he was beaten, sliced, blooded, barely recognizable and hanging on to consciousness.

"Sam," Crowley choked out, blood oozing from his mouth and pooling on the ground.

At the mention of his brother, Dean's attention was solely focused on the battered King before him.

"What about Sam?" Dean took a step closer to the man. Dean's men shook the demon when he failed to respond. Dean growled, smacking his face and still getting no response, "Lock him up. I'll get him to talk."

Dean swiftly turned and marched back towards the house, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do.

"Dean," Cas spoke, keeping up with Dean's long strides, "Are you sure that is wise?"

"He has information about Sam," Dean grumbled, "And someone worked him over pretty good. What if some powerful somebody has Sam and sent Crowley to give me a message?"

"I can go search for Sam if you'd like. Let you know what I find. Or I can stay here and help with Crowley."

Dean stopped, looking at his friend before locking eyes with Y/N on the porch in the near distance. Her face fell as she saw the look he wore, knowing business was afoot.

"Find Sam," Dean finally responded, locking eyes with the angel, "Let me know what you find. In the meantime, I'll try to wake Crowley and get him talking."

Cas nodded before disappearing. Dean sighed and made his way to the porch. He kissed the top of Dean Jr.'s head as the baby rested in his mother's arms. He then turned and pressed a gentle kiss to Y/N's cheek.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Crowley," he groaned and her eyes went wide, holding her child a little closer, "He showed up beaten and bloody and said something about Sam."

"Sam?" she echoed, swallowing hard. He was a sore topic for both of them. Y/N hated the Sam she knew. She didn't have time to get to know the Sam with a soul. Dean had talked about him often, telling her stories of their childhood and Sam's dreams, then how he suddenly changed.

Dean beat himself for 'not knowing sooner' and 'not standing up' to John and a million other reasons why and how he 'failed' his brother. Y/N wished she had met Sam before in his youth. That Sam sounded like an amazing person. She couldn't reconcile the Sam she knew with Dean's Sam, no matter how hard she tried.

"You're thinking someone has him and Crowley has info?" she said, more to herself, nodding in understanding, "I'm gonna take DJ into the house."

"DJ?" Dean smirked, "That's new."

She shrugged, "Dean Jr. is too long and I already vetoed Junior. DJ is simple, sweet, and differentiates you two," she grinned, pecking his lips sweetly before disappearing into the house.

"Sir?" Dean turned to see one of his men standing at the bottom of the porch steps, "He's ready for you."

Dean nodded and the man stepped away. He took a deep breath and sent out a silent prayer, hoping Sam was okay.

PART 6

Forevers:

@winchesterprincessbride

@iamcmims

@roxyspearing

@reigningqueenofwords

@mogaruke

@ellen-reincarnated1967

@speakinvain

@atc74

@sterekloveaffairs

@mrs-meghan-winchester

@chook007

@growningupgeek

@goldenolaf25

@esoltis280

@hobby27

@sis-tafics

@arryn-nyxx

@x-waywardaf-x

@shann-the-artist-moon

@sandlee44

@lucywinchester2000

@emoryhemsworth

@time-travel-bouqet

@buckysbrat

@calaofnoldor

@spnbaby-67

@miraclesoflove

@lyarr24

Sam's Revenge:

@allethalove @squirrelnotsam

@salt-n-burn-em-all

@idreamofdeanie

#sam's revenge #sam winchester #dark!fic #supernatural #spn #dark!series #dean x reader #dean winchester #tw: violence

12 notes · View notes

metanoiamorii · 3 years

Text

❛A DEVIL'S FINEST TRICK IS TO PERSUADE YOU THAT HE DOES NOT EXIST.❜

Dámianus took in a breath when he heard the familiar, annoying footsteps stomping forward. With haste, came the familiar, annoying voice. "Can you believe it?!"

Breathing in, it took his full strength to keep a leveled tone, not show his annoyance. "Believe what?"

His brother scowled, as if he was the idiot present. "They failed!"

"Pity." Was all Dámianus could think to say. He had to hide his smile upon hearing the news. He had an act to keep. "They must have not followed the plan, I did give them detailed instructions after all."

"How are you so apathetic?!" Makjo scoffed, eyes rolling. "That's our father—"

"Your father." Dámianus corrected. "You are his son, I am his errand boy."

"Oh wow, its a misery you proved yourself capable and he saw your potential!" Makjo mockingly threw back, going as far to make a fake, crying gesture to accompany his words.

Dámianus, however, quick to smile, tilted his head to the side. "Oh, does that mean he saw no potential in you?"

It was worth it, to watch the brat's features scrunch and his face to go red. A finger raised, and going to bite back. "You—"

Already walking off, Dámianus tucked the parchment beneath his arm. "I suppose I will go meet with our allies and see what went wrong." Casually he spoke, striding forward, leaning down, pecking his brother's cheek, and using the opportunity to quietly whisper, "Don't grow too comfortable. Many people will come for your crown." Before Makjo could reply, he had already taken his leave, to find better company he could tolerate.

At least the brat was an idiot. He had yet to see through everything. He had slipped up with their father, the bastard caught on at the last second. He barely corrected that.. But he had no doubt with Makjo, the brat would never see anything coming... still. He needed to be more careful if all were to be successful.

♧ Chosen Name: Dámianus D'truiryxr

♧ Aliases:

• Dame

• Dami

• Damocles Aliah Teivel; his human guise

• Your Glorious Insane Highness

• Ali; reserved for his nanny alone

• Funny Monkey Man; reserved for his partner

• Lord Teivel

• Princeling

♧ Known as:

• The Angel Of Darkness

• The Mad One of The Void

• The Mad Trickster

• The Mad One

• The Trickster of Madness

• The Bane of All

• The Lord of the Citadel of Madness

♧ Gender: Agender

♧ Preferred Pronouns: He/They

♧ Race: Old One

♧ Sexuality: Grey-Asexual; Aromantic

♧ Ethnicity: Will appear Kiyese in a human guise

♧ Height: 7'02 in his true appearance; 6'03.5 in a human appearance

♧ Age Appearance: In a human guise he appears in his late thirties, early forties.

♧ True Appearance: Dámianus is said to take after his mother more than his father. From his father he inherited the smooth rounded ears and slim, nearly hairless tail with a tuft of black fur at the tip. As the natural red eyes he possesses. He's rather slim, but tall, with pale skin. He possesses a set of dark wings that tend to drag behind him and are rarely used. For the most part, humanoid.

♧ Human Appearance: For the life of me, I cannot find out their name, so if anyone knows it please tell me.

♧ Key Personality Traits: Manipulative, Cunning, Brilliant, Quick-witted, Vengeful, Well Mannered

♧ Alignment: Lawful Evil

♧ Parents:

• Rihtyxr, father

• Unknown mother

♧ Siblings:

• Hinvyka, brother

• Kysia, sibling

• Tysie, sister

• Nevzan, brother

• Makjo, brother [deceased]

• Mal'rybos, brother

• Slyra, brother [deceased]

• A several hundred other siblings

♧ Partner(s):

• Misam

♧ Other Blood Relations:

• Tyronjis, uncle

• Kaiuroga, aunt

• Arz-Ler'erso, uncle

• Trik'Rjrkite, uncle

• Au-Zaiur'hka, aunt

• Rons'ta, uncle

• Gazini, cousin

• Ao-Ao, cousin

• Eoau, cousin

• Ny'jsetti, cousin

• Jitka Shirin, nanny, sister and maternal figure

♧ Allies:

• Isfétte

• Jitka Shirin

• Kregznic

• Marzomme

• E'aligesri

• Rohabizal

• Ao-Ao

• Eoau

• Gazini

• Jinx

• Ianira

• Misam

• Mehpijka'om

• Eskrja

• Grumpy

• A few hundred others I haven't fleshed out

♧ Enemies:

• Rons'ta

• Tyronjis

• Kaiuroga

• Arz-Ler'erso

• Trik'Rjrkite

• Au-Zaiur'hka

• Rihtyxr

♧ Brief Backstory:

The eldest of Rihtyxr's hundreds of children, Dámianus always served closer as an errand boy than a son. He grew up fast, without the choice of a childhood, to take care of his siblings. Early on, he accepted his role in the family and gracefully handled the responsibilities thrusted onto him. The older— maturer— he became, the more he would distant himself form his family and those family ties. He treated his family like colleagues and allies and not a family.

Only by the influence of Jitka and Isfétte would Dámianus finally accept his gifts and natural talent as a mastermind, and one manipulative son of a bitch. With their assistance and guidance, he would hone his talent to have power over them. When he finally held a strong belief in himself, he set himself to the task of consuming power. Slowly, he turned the allies of his family against them, buying their loyalty to serve him.

With the dependence the family held on him to make their plans and ensure their survival, he was able to trick them. He fooled them into going to war with Khaalida, and trapped them under her watch. The power vacuum was his for the taking... But he decided to play the long game. He allowed his siblings to fight for the power, and he accompanied his cousin— G'javinizia — on his travels across the multi-verse for a time. To further his own knowledge and powers.

When he finally became confident in himself once more, he returned. He got his old allies in line and began to form new ones. And soon, he finally began to get involved in the affair of Viogia to plant his influence. When his influence was sewn deep, Dámianus created his human guise and entered, to act first hand and began inacting the plans he had started so long ago.

♧ Weapon of Choice:

• Roibac'da, The Whip of Insanity

• Tac'bet, a sentient chain

• A set of chained gloves

• His signature cloak

• His sword collection

• A treasured fan he's gifted to his partner

♧ Classification: Trickster

♧ Power Domain: Madness, Trickery, Illusion, Psychic, Enchantment, Time, Wishes

♧ Playlist:

• Burn, Beth Crowley

• Where The Lonely Ones Roam, Digital Daggers

• Coming Home, Avenged Sevenfold

• Feeling Good, Michael Buble

• Broken Crown, Mumford and Sons

• Leader of the Broken Hearts, Papa Roach

• Centuries, Fall Out Boys

• Everyone Wants To Rule The World, Future Royalty

• When You're Evil, Voltaire

• You're Gonna Go Far Kid, The Offspring

• Hard To Kill, Beth Crowley

• Trouble, Valerie Broussard

• You Can Run, Adam Jones

• The Dark Ones, Karliene

• Keep You Safe, Crane Wives

• She Lit A Fire, Lord Huron

• Control, Halsey

• Castle, Halsey

• Monster, Imagine Dragons

• When The Day Comes, Nico and Vinz

• Last One Standing, Simple Plan

• Soldier's Dance, Adrisaurus

• Final Warning, Skylar Grey

• Angel of Darkness, Alex C

• Meet Me On The Battlefield, SVRCINA

• Night Of The Hunter, 30 Seconds To Mar

• Bad Man, King 810

• Throne, Bring Me The Horizon

• I'd Love To Change The World, King 810

♧ Current Wip: Coming Home [CH], The Legacy of Vires Ius [TSOVI], Mercy No More [MNO], A Rope In Hand [ARIH]; he's likely to appear in all of my wips in Viogia as a source of problem starter.

COMING HOME:

THE LEGACY OF VIRES IUS:

A ROPE IN HAND:

GENERAL:

ON ALL:

♧ Some fun facts!

• He has a pet cat named Grumpy, it's based off a displacer beast!

• He takes a shot of whiskey every time one of his idiots does something stupid.

• He's a man that just wants a vacation at this point, somewhere nice and quiet, a distant beach, without responsibilities.

• He says he doesn't like children, but if given the opportunity he'd probably adopt an entire orphanage or seventy.

• The only people he will possibly listen to, to get him to back down from doing something, is Jitka and Isfétte.

• He knows how to hold a grudge. It doesn't matter how many years it takes, he'll get payback... In an extreme fashion that is probably unwarranted in that degree.

• Given the chance, he would kill 96% of his siblings and family...

• Although he's the source of major chaos in the universe, he cares deeply for order and rules.

• In public he will dress in tailcoats, but as long as he's home he prefers to wear a variety of kimonos.

• The only way you can upset him is by: mentioning Rons'ta in his presence, favoring his siblings in his presence, dissing his nanny, being disrespectful towards women when he's around, hurting and/or belittling children and animals in his presence. And then, and only then, he'll kill you without remorse!

15 notes · View notes

moveslikebuckywrites · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub (Good Omens), Dagon (Good Omens), Hastur (Good Omens), Gabriel (Good Omens), Uriel (Good Omens), Disposable Demon (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Fluff, Bodyswap, Episode: s01e06 The Very Last Day of the Rest of Their Lives, Aziraphale loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens) ---

Back at it again with the Gift Fics! this one for @apple-duty whom I love so very much, I hope you like it <3

The song prompt Apple gave me was I’ll Be Your Mirror by The Velvet Underground, so of course I wrote a body swap fic xD

You can read it on AO3 or the full fic is under the cut (but you’ll miss the very lovely poster; that's only on AO3)

---

The first thing Aziraphale is aware of is the stench. Like rotting eggs mixed with bile mixed with month old trash with just a hint of lilac. As if someone decided to pin all of their hopes and dreams on a multipack of Poundland air fresheners.

Also it’s wet. The air feels damp; his clothes feel damp. He can hear dripping coming from somewhere. That constant trickle of a faucet drip, but one that never quite keeps to a pattern. The kind where you expect the drip, but then it’s just a millisecond off course and grates on your nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard.

It’s a veritable assault on his senses. After all, Aziraphale has standards. He also has a throbbing pain in his head that he doesn’t quite remember where it came from. He keeps his eyes screwed shut, trying to will the pain out of his head.

Think back, try to remember. He’d been in the park with Crowley. He’d had ice cream. He liked ice cream. No, focus back. Angels; a kidnapping. The Sound of Music? Still sick of that one. Then a crowbar. Tickety-boo. But it’s all backwards because…

Aziraphale finally opens his eyes. Everything is dark, impossibly dark. Sunglasses, of course. Oh dear, that’s right, they’ve swapped faces. He’s in Hell wearing Crowley’s face; laid out on a concrete slab in what appears to be a prison cell.

He sits up and takes stock of his surroundings: four concrete walls with no visible door, the concrete slab, and a poster on the wall. The poster has a kitten hanging from a tree branch, it says “Hang in There!” at the top. Underneath, in a scrawl, it says “The Worst Is Yet to Come” with a crude approximation of a smiley face1. It’s unsettling at best, completely idiotic at worst.

He lies back down on the slab. It’s uncomfortable, but far from the worst place he’s ever rested. There’s nothing for it now, all he can do is wait. Whatever denizens of Hell have been charged with capturing him will come back for him soon enough.

After all, “the worst is yet to come”.

He has to focus, he has to become Crowley. This won’t be difficult, he’s known Crowley so long. Aziraphale has memorized nearly everything there is to know about the demon - for thwarting purposes, obviously.

He knows the kinds of quips Crowley would make in the face of adversity. How he carries himself around perceived authority. How he walks like he’s not sure what exactly ‘hip bones’ are supposed to be.

But he also knows Crowley’s kind heart and his clever mind. He knows Crowley’s loyalty. And it is loyalty, isn’t it? He never went to Alpha-Centauri. He never would have, not without Aziraphale along for the ride.

He knows how the lines around Crowley’s eyes crinkle differently when a smile is genuine. How he stammers when he’s overwhelmed or embarrassed. How when he’s had just a bit too much red he starts to hiss at the end of his words. How he can captivate a room, hold it in the palm of his hand like an apple on offering. How when he laughs, he laughs deep and full and melodic.

He knows so much about Crowley; the being in the world he holds most dear in this life.

He’ll have to channel all of that to keep Crowley safe, and he knows that right now Crowley is doing the same for him in Heaven. They’ll survive this, they have to. Aziraphale can reflect everything Crowley is right at them and win Crowley his freedom.

Aziraphale closes his eyes and a razor sharp memory comes back to him unbidden. A church in 1941, the burning remains of a house of God that signalled the beginning of Aziraphale’s own awareness. He’d been falling for a long time, but not from Grace.

He’d seen it, in Crowley’s flat the night before. The eagle lectern from the church. Sentimental old serpent.

When this is over, if they survive, there’s no need to hide any longer. Their sides are perfectly aware of their “fraternizing”.

If they get out of this, Aziraphale resolves to tell Crowley what he’s known for so long, in the deepest recesses of his angel’s heart. He loves Crowley, with every fiber of his being that shouldn’t. And when this is over, he’s going to tell him just that.

---

Ozone. Overwhelming, nostril burning, ozone. Like an overactive air conditioner. And pine, but that particular artificial pine. Cleaning solution. Hovering over the surface like someone dumped an undiluted jug of it on the floor and just walked away.

And the light, it’s so harsh. Hell is supposed to be harsh, but this is on another level. He can’t see anything else for how bright the light is, these eyes that are not his are taking their sweet time adjusting. He strains his wrists against the rope restraining him. It’s rough and itchy, obviously imbued with some kind of celestial energy since he can’t will it away.

The room feels cold, like an unbearable chill. But he can still feel himself sweating. Like the worst waiting room in the known universe. No temperature regulation to be had. It’s ironic, he thinks, if this is supposed to be where you want to end up. The chair that creaks every time he moves is not helping. It’s so uncomfortable he wants to scream.

He can’t, of course. He’s bound and gagged. By angels, of all things. Figured his lot would go in for that before Heaven did. Hell has several agents with those kinds of things as their purview (for pain and for pleasure, and for that weird place they intersect.)

Ah well, focus on something else.

The windows are a nice touch - floor to ceiling polished glass. He can see all the wonders of the world from here, and even Crowley has to admit the view from the top is nice. But it’s so empty. A vast hall with no life in it whatsoever. Where are they keeping all those alleged pure souls? Not here, obviously.

It’s lonely, he realizes, with a twinge of affection for a certain ineffable being. One that he’s currently wearing the face of.

No wonder the angel surrounds himself with books and food and the finer things. There’s nothing here. Nothing but overly bright and overly clean.

Aziraphale belongs in a dusty bookshop. He belongs on Earth with the humdrum monotony of human life and the ever-changing majesty of human invention. Not in this place.

This place that belittles him, makes fun of his hobbies, of his corporation, of his soft heart, of his do-gooder nature. Everything that makes Aziraphale, well, Aziraphale.

This place never deserved him. Never deserved an angel that cared about every being he came across, even so much as to cover a lowly demon with his wing in the rain; or who cares so much about humanity he’ll swan dive away and straight back down to Earth for an infinitesimal chance to save them all.

They’ve never deserved the one angel who truly is a being of pure love. They were never his angel’s home. Home doesn’t treat you like that; home is supposed to be a place of love.

He shakes his head. Gotta play the part, he thinks. He knows Aziraphale better than he knows himself. Aziraphale has a few nervous tics, but underneath is a soldier. A guardian charged with protecting the first of humanity. A protector who has watched over the Earth and its inhabitants for longer than anyone or anything else (save for two).

A being of so much immeasurable ethereal power that a mortal being could never comprehend his true form. A being of so much love that it overwhelms even a demon who shouldn’t be able to sense that anymore. A being who cares about things like crepes and Shakespeare and nonsense first editions of books no one even remembers anymore.

A being who cares about him. Who cares about Crowley. And is right now in Hell wearing his face and being strong for him.

Crowley can do the same. He can be a mirror image of Aziraphale, in every way. He has to.

And when he gets out of here, the first thing he’s gonna do is finally, finally kiss his angel senseless. Let him know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that he is wanted, that he is loved, and that he is home. Crowley will be there - for as long as Aziraphale would have him - to show him how wonderful he is, how beautiful he is, and how absolutely loved he is.

Even love from something wretched is better than the falsehood of this place. Crowley had learned that the hard way in the early days.

But when this is over, he’ll be there to hold Aziraphale together, to be the light on the door that leads him home.

---

“Demon Crowley,” Beelzebub sneered, “I sentence you to extinction via holy water. Have you anything to say?”

This trial had been a farce at best. Just evidence and an execution sentence. But they had been prepared for this.

“Well, yes,” ‘Crowley’ says after a bit of contemplation. “This is a new jacket and I’d hate to ruin it. Would you mind if I took it off?”

Beelzebub rolls their eyes and Dagon groans. He hears Hastur mutter something about “flash bastards” under his breath. Aziraphale turns and takes off the jacket, folding it neatly over a metal chair in the corner.

He spares a couple of passing glances to the tub full of holy water next to him, saying a silent prayer to no one that this works. He can feel the residual energy radiating off of the water and he suppresses a shudder as he strips down to just Crowley’s socks and underwear.

He’s wearing his demon’s face and facing down the very thing he’s feared for so long would be Crowley’s undoing. How long has he been terrified of this? Ever since that horrid argument in 1862 he’s feared for the demon where holy water is concerned.

The lengths Crowley had gone to to get it has scared him, but it had been worth it in the end. Aziraphale can’t imagine a life without Crowley in it, and hopefully after this he won’t have to.

He moves to the tub, stands staring into the water. It feels a bit like things coming full circle, at this point. “Any time now, traitor,” Hastur calls to him, “We don’t have all day.”

He turns around, takes a deep breath, and falls in backwards with a dramatic splash. Aziraphale is gripped by a momentary panic as he hears the tell tale pops and sizzles of holy water-induced destruction. It soon becomes apparent that this is just the residual demonic energy on the floors and walls, sizzling away into the ether when it mingles with the splashed water.

Oh, that means this is going to be fun. He can’t resist, tossing a bit of water towards the window of the demons staring at him. Watching them scream and recoil. He smirks in a way that he hopes fits on Crowley’s face.

“I don’t suppose that anywhere in the nine circles of Hell there’s such a thing as a rubber duck?” Aziraphale asks to the room in general, finally turning to his supposed ‘jury of peers’. He has to suppress a laugh. Dagon is cowering behind Beelzebub, who looks like they just witnessed Gabriel trying to dance the salsa.

“No?” he asks with an obvious lilt to his voice. When they don’t answer he goes back to his humming and splashing, being as ‘flash’ as he can possibly be.

“He’s gone native,” Beelzebub croaks out while Dagon cowers behind them, “He isn’t one of us anymore.”

“So you’re probably thinking,” Aziraphale says with a flourish, draping himself over the edge of the tub as though he doesn’t know what bones are, “‘If he can do this, I wonder what else he can do?’”

He watches their faces, sees the fear underneath. Angels can sense love, that’s true. But they can sense other things, too. Fear, in particular. They’re meant to assuage fears, to calm and reassure. But Aziraphale has been playing both sides for long enough in the Arrangement that he knows how to nurture that fear as well.

He stares Beelzebub right in their beady eyes, “And very, very soon, you’re all going to get the chance to find out.”

“He’s bluffing, we can take him,” Hastur says, a bit too quickly to be casual, “One demon against the rest of Hell? What’s he going to do?” Aziraphale pays him no mind, Dukes of Hell are beneath Principalities anyway. And none of the demons in Hell are fit to even look at Crowley’s face, as far as he’s concerned.

“Shut it! Get him out of here, this’ll cause a riot,” Beelzebub shouts while rushing to block the window to the peanut gallery; Aziraphale honest-to-someone giggles. Beelzebub keeps shouting, “What are you all looking at? Nothing to see! Nothing to see here!”

There are footsteps and a flickering of fluorescent lighting, and Aziraphale turns to see Michael, prim and proper as always, strolling down the hallway without a care.

“I came to bring back the - oh, Lord.”

Aziraphale almost wishes he had a camera phone, just so he could preserve the shocked look on the archangel’s face. For days when he needs a good laugh

“Michael! Dude. Do us a quick miracle, will you?” He says, hand outstretched, not wanting to waste an opportunity and feeling emboldened by wearing Crowley’s face, “I need a bath towel.”

Michael hands him one in an instant, still looking shocked as anything. The confidence that comes from being Crowley is exhilarating. The more he gets away with, the bolder he is. Aziraphale decides right then and there, he’s going to make sure they never, ever threaten Crowley again.

“I think it would be better for everyone,” he puts on his best angelic fury voice, preying further on that seeping feeling of fear, “if I were to be left alone in the future. Don’t you?”

He stares each of them down in turn, holding eye contact and glaring into their very souls. He waits for each to nod in turn before deciding he’s satisfied.

“Right,” he says with a smirk and a wiggle (he is still him after all, even wearing Crowley’s face), before getting out of the tub and doing his best saunter towards the exit.

He heads for the elevator, stands still as a statue as he waits for it. He’s in such a hurry to leave he nearly runs into one of the Erics on his way in. As soon as the doors close, he sinks against the elevator wall and sobs. Aziraphale cries as he feels the worry wash away from him, the worry that’s plagued him for centuries now. Crowley is finally free, and Aziraphale couldn’t be more relieved.

---

“Can I hit him? I’ve always wanted to hit an angel.”

Of course Eric would want to take advantage of an opportunity. Idiot that he is,

Sandalphon grins, gold tooth glinting in the harsh lighting. “Go for it,” he says with contempt. Aziraphale had told Crowley about earlier the day before, when the Archangels had cornered him in an alleyway. Now it seemed they didn’t want to get their hands dirtier than necessary.

Eric stands in front of him, reeling his fist back like he’s gonna be able to do anything. Lowly disposable demons, always wanna be above their station. Crowley can’t break character, but he isn’t gonna let this asshole get a punch in.

He stares coldly into Eric’s face, pouring every but of contempt he can without breaking the facade. He can’t let them see him crack. He can’t let them see Aziraphale crack.

He screws his angel’s face into what he knows Aziraphale to be. Brave and steadfast, even in the face of adversity. Never truly backing down when he’s up against the wall. And he lets out one, teeny, tiny little smirk. Just enough that only Eric would be able to see it.

“I...should be getting back,” Eric stammers, fear radiating in waves,”I’ll come and pick up the Hellfire in, what, an hour?”

“Barbecue will be over by then,” Uriel says with all of the enthusiasm of a uni student with a 5 AM math class.

Uriel makes her way over to him and unties the ropes on his wrists in one movement, “Up.”

And he does jump up, because that’s what Aziraphale would do. He adjusts his clothing - waistcoat, bowtie, cuffs - same way Aziraphale has always done. The nervous tic that’s been his calling card for millennia.

“I don’t suppose I could persuade you to reconsider?” Crowley knows the angel would make one last attempt, one last gesture to give them the opportunity to do the right thing. “We’re meant to be the good guys, for Heaven’s sake.”

“Well for Heaven’s sake,” Gabriel says with his corporate smile, “we make an example out of traitors. So...into the flame.”

Crowley stares at the pillar of hellfire for a beat, more than a little concerned with if their plan will work or not. He thinks of his angel, burning in hellfire, burning out of existence.

He thinks of a bookshop. Of a Queen record melting to a gramophone. Of linen pages and leather binding going up in smoke. Of himself, on the floor, soaked to the bone, screaming to no one and nothing. Of an angel shaped hole in his life.

Crowley thinks of how relieved he was, sitting there drunk on Taliskers, when Aziraphale had materialized in front of him. Not himself again, not yet, but safe. Where are you, wherever it is, I’ll come find you. He’d meant it, and Crowley had found his angel again at the end of the world.

He’d screamed through fire, he’d drove through fire, and now he’d walk through fire. All for his angel.

“Right, well, lovely knowing you all,” Crowley says, knowing Aziraphale would be kind, even to the last. “May we meet again on a better occasion.”

“Shut your stupid mouth and die already,” the smile that Gabriel gives him now makes him want to vomit; it’s so callous and fake. He stares Gabriel right in the eyes as he steps forward. The heat from the pillar is warm and comforting; he’s a demon, after all, he was born anew in Hellfire after the fall.

Crowley takes a deep breath and walks in, letting his body adjust to the heat. It’s comforting, in a twisted sort of way. Like a nice screaming hot bath at the end of a particularly difficult day.

Crowley sighs and rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck a couple times for good measure. Hellfire is surprisingly good for the joints, when it doesn’t kill you instantly. Gabriel and the other archangels are staring at him, stupid gaping looks on their faces.

What’s a field trip to heaven without a little bit of fun at the expense of some right bastards?

He breathes Hellfire right in their faces, laughing as they scamper back liked spooked rats. He thinks to himself that it’s a shame that the Hellfire didn’t hit any of them.

Sandalphon looks like he’s about to jump out of his skin. Uriel is shivering. Gabriel is wearing his fake corporate smile again, trying to find a way to salvage the situation.

“It may be worse than we thought,” he stammers out, Sandalphon hiding behind him like a scared little kid.

“What...is he?” Uriel asks, the only one with a level head in this situation.

“You see,” Crowley says in a multi-layered version of Aziraphale’s voice, “I don’t think you want to know what I am. Because the less you know, the less danger you’ll be in.”

Crowley weaves his hand in front of him, almost like an orchestral conductor, swirling the Hellfire between his fingers. Shaping it into little spheres and then banishing them back to the rest of it, acting for all the world like he doesn’t care.

“Gabriel, we need to go to damage control,” Uriel says, tugging on Gabriel’s sleeve, “If word gets out about this.”

“You’re right, yes, of course,” Gabriel stammers, rubbing his temples with one hand, “It’ll start riots, I know. Fine, Aziraphale, just...get out of the fire.”

“Oh are you sure? I’m just working on my tan a bit, it’s ever so dreary in my bookshop, I don’t get much sun you know.”

“Just leave, Aziraphale!” Gabriel shouts, face red and perfectly done hair falling out of place. That alone was worth the trip, to break the composure of the Archangel Fucking Gabriel (what a prick).

“Ah, right then, I’ll just…” he steps gingerly out of the fire, adjusts his clothing again (waistcoat, bowtie, cuffs - every single time), and worries his hands together as he heads for the exit.

He gets in the elevator that will take him back to the lobby, where he’ll hurry to the prearranged rendezvous point as fast as he can. As soon as the door closes, he collapses against the wall and laughs. Big, full, gargantuan laughs. Soon enough his sides is hurting and he hadn’t even known their corporations were capable of that.

Aziraphale is free now, and Crowley has never been happier.

---

Aziraphale fidgets anxiously on the park bench. Crowley should’ve been back by now, he’s sure of it. He’d been half expecting to meet him in the elevator or the lobby, if he’s honest. Then again, Heaven does like to drag things out.

It’s all he can do to keep from jumping from the bench when he sees his own usual corporeal form heading towards him. They did it, they survived. They averted the apocalypse and tricked both Heaven and Hell. And now they can spend the rest of their days on their own side; together.

A place that Aziraphale has wanted to be for a very long time. He settles himself as Crowley sits next to him on the bench.

“So,” Crowley says in the angel’s voice, but sounding so very much like himself anyway, “D’you think they’ll leave us alone now?”

“At a guess, they’ll pretend it never happened.” Aziraphale is practically vibrating off the park bench. He’d made his promise to himself, he’s going to tell him. Just, not while he’s wearing his dear demon’s face. “Anyone looking?”

Crowley presses fingers to his temples and scans the area, Aziraphale fidgets with a ring that doesn’t exist and shoots a look skyward despite knowing he doesn’t need to any longer.

“No,” Crowley says, sounding a little distracted in his own right, as he extends a hand, “swap back then?”

They link hands and Aziraphale feels the atoms on the outer edges of his corporeal form rearrange themselves back to his usual soft and stuffy self. He shakes out the kinks just a little while Crowley cracks his neck next to him.

Aziraphale looks over at him, noting that he seems stiffer than usual. Must be the swap. Even if it was just outward appearances, it’s still rather taxing. Crowley catches him staring and reaches up to change the collar on his jacket back to red.

“A tartan collar, really?”

“Tartan is stylish!”

Crowley just rolls his eyes at him, and Aziraphale decides it’s now or never.

“Crowley, I have something I really must tell you,” he’s glad to have his own visage back, if only so the ring exists again for him to fidget with. This should be easy, but what if he’s wrong?

“Whatsit then, angel?” Crowley says, raising an eyebrow, and oh suddenly it is so very, very easy.

“I’m sure you must already know, I don’t see how you wouldn’t, I’ve never been good at hiding it, but Crowley,” Aziraphale can feel the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes. He’s heard of happy crying before, but never experienced it himself, but this feeling of release so close to saying those three simple words must be what that’s like. “Crowley, I lo-”

He doesn’t get to finish.

---

Crowley is, at best of times, a bundle of anxiety and nerves. Today was no exception.

He hadn’t been sure when the time would be to make his move, but then Aziraphale had looked at him like that and every bit of resolve he might’ve had holding him back faded away.

Aziraphale had been saying something, Crowley hadn’t really been paying attention, but suddenly it didn’t matter. All that mattered were those lips and his lips and the tears in the corners of his angel’s eyes and making them go away.

His hands were on Aziraphale’s face before he could tell them not to be, and their lips were crashing together soon after.

So now here they sit - on a park bench, lips locked together. Aziraphale is frozen stiff as a statue and suddenly Crowley has a very sharp and very real fear that he’s gone to fast again.

He breaks off and hides his face in his hands, sunglasses pushed up into his hairline, “Christ, fuck, ‘m sorry angel, shouldn’t have done that.”

“Crowley, my dear-”

“Won’t happen again, promise you that,” he just can’t stop stammering. “I mean, now you know, so if you want time or something or for me to fuck off just say the word.”

“Crowley,” Azirpahale says louder this time, gingerly touching Crowley’s wrists, “dear would you please put down your hands.”

Aziraphale wraps his fingers around Crowley’s wrists, tugging his hands away from his face. Everything is a bit blurry and Crowley realizes he’s crying.

He blinks the tears away and sees Aziraphale, smiling that bright and wonderful smile that Crowley doesn’t always get to see.

“There you are,” Aziraphale says, running a thumb along Crowley’s cheek to wipe away a tear that dared to escape it’s confines.

“Stop it,” Crowley says, trying to look away but finding himself unable, “don’t give me that look.”

“What look would that be?”

“You’re looking at me like you...you…”

“Love you?” Aziraphale asks and Crowley could swear the angel’s eyes sparkle.

“Yeah, that,” Crowley says softly as Aziraphale continues stroking his cheek, “you can’t love me. I’m a demon, twisted and unkind that’s me.”

“Oh my dear,” Aziraphale says cupping the demon’s cheek, “you couldn’t be more wrong about that if you tried.”

And then, miracle of miracles, Aziraphale leans in and kisses him. Aziraphale is actually kissing him. And he’s kissing Aziraphale back. And Aziraphale is kissing him back again and what a revelation that is.

There’s no telling how long they sit there, it’s not like either of them have to breathe. When they finally break apart, Aziraphale’s voice is barely a breath against his lips.

“I love you, Crowley, I’ve loved you for so very, very long.” Aziraphale tilts his forehead against Crowley’s and for some reason the intimacy of that is more overwhelming than the kiss they just shared. “Wily old serpent, light to my darkness, my darling, my dearest.”.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley says reverently and wistfully, drunk on love and belonging, “Aziraphale, you never belonged there, you’re so much better than them. I’ll spend the rest of my days proving that to you, if you’ll let me.”

“Oh my dear,” Aziraphale says, kissing him again, “I’d like nothing better.”

“Love you, angel,” Crowley says, peppering kisses all over Aziraphale’s face, getting to hear that laugh that sounds like daybreak, “let me tempt you to lunch.”

Aziraphale laughs, full of hope and full of love, the way Crowley thinks he should always be able to laugh. “I do believe, my darling,” he says as he kisses Crowley on the nose, and it should not be as adorable or endearing as it is, “a table for two at the Ritz has just miraculously opened up.”

As they stroll through the park, hand in hand for all the world and Heaven and Hell to see, Aziraphale feels like he’s home for the first time. Here, with Crowley, finally allowing himself to bask in the glow of a love unconditional and patient. And finally Crowley can feel the love that’s been his all along; the unyielding adoration of his angel. Faintly in the distance, they can hear a nightingale singing in Berkley Square.

#link #good omens #my fic #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #hope you like it Apple!

28 notes · View notes

verobatto · 5 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

(Vol. XXIV)

It was a love story, from the very beginning.

Heartbroken

(6x20/6x21/6x22)

Hello my dears! How are you? This is another Chronicle and the last one for season 6!!

This is gonna be a hard meta... *Sobbing* we're here together so...

Thanks to my friend @agusvedder she made the gifs for this meta and discussed a while crying profusely, with me.

Ok, let's start with this!

When Cas broke Dean's heart

Still in episode 6x20...

When Cas saves the guys from demons, Dean is happy to see him, and everyone in the room felt sorry for doubt about him, but...

Remember all that blind trust Dean had in Castiel, even with the proof on the table? Well... Cas said something that broke Dean's heart and trust. He mentioned the whole Superman going to the dark side thing. A talk Bobby, Dean and Sam had gotten alone, well, they thought they were alone.

And Dean's face is... Gah... He realizes Cas is spying on them, and lying, and cheating... And... His heart breaks and is all over his face.

Even his smile is sad, very sad... Mixed with anger.

And then we are dragged again to Cas's memories...

You know when you watch your crush with longing eyes... Yes... Cas contemplating Dean, is a very romantic scene, he didn't want to perturbed him, and in his own words...

CASTIEL So I went to an old friend for help. But watching him, I stopped. Everything he sacrificed, and I was about to ask him for more.

Is curious how an ancient creature as Cas thinks his friendship with Dean is old. Dean is an old friend of Castiel.

And also... He saw Dean was having a good life, well, that's what he thought, and because he loves him, he didn't want to break that life. He, as Bobby and Sam, thought Dean wanted that life, they assumed Dean was happy having that life. And they were wrong.

In this point, Crowley appears... He's the temptation here, and Cas fell for it. The devil tempting a desperate angel that needs more power to stop the new Apocalypse and save the world and his friends. His old friend, mostly, Dean Winchester.

So, he did it for him? Sure. He'll say that later...

Falling in Temptation

Is very interesting to analyze the sequence of how Crowley tempts Castiel... Is the same mechanism the devil uses with his victims...

First of all... The adulation...

CASTIEL: I'm not strong enough, and you know it.

CROWLEY: Ah, not on your own, you're not. But you're not on your own, are you? There's a lot of angels swooning over you. "God's favorite." Buddy boy, you've got what they call sex appeal.

CASTIEL: Thank you. Get to the point.

Watch here how Crowley praises him, you're the God's fav, angels follow you, you have sex appeal... I mean... Is obvious he's trying to seduce Castiel to make him accept a deal with Hell... Is the same method the devil uses for tempting humanity.

The second part of this is the offer... Generally, the offer is POWER, so here... Is the same.

CASTIEL: This is ridiculous. I mean, the amount of power that it would take to mount a war...

CROWLEY: More than either of us have ever seen, yeah. But what if I said I knew how to go nuclear?

CASTIEL What do you mean?

CROWLEY: Purgatory, my fine feathered friend. Purgatory. Just think about it. An untapped oil well of every fanged, clawed soul. I mean, what's that over the years? 30 million? 40 million? Just sitting there, plump and rich for the taking.

Here is when Crowley put the coin, he does adulated Cas and now he offered him a way to win the war... Becoming nuclear, the immense power of souls... So Cas takes it.

But there's something interesting too when Crowley designed the plan, he infered he needed Sam and Dean to get the monsters, and Cas was determinant here ...

CASTIEL No. Not Dean. He's retired, and he's to stay that way.

He's protecting Dean's apple pie life, he thought this was a way to protect him. He wouldn't let Crowley to hurt Dean or to get him into that war.

The Betrayal

Well, we need enter now in the worst par of all... Let me cry under that tree for a moment... I'll be right back...

Ok... Let's start this...

Dean prays to Castiel and he appears, they lock Cas in an angel trap, and Bobby and Sam began to confront him.

And because he's desperately looking to one side and another but avoiding Dean's gaze... This is what happens... (Damn...)

You know how sacred are our Destiel's stares... They talk with their eyes. Is the way they share their emotions... So Dean needed that, Castiel look at me in the eye!

It hurts a lot, because Dean's facial expression when Cas averted his eyes to the ground, because it was truth. Dean is heartbroken.

Dean named the things Bobby and Sam had been trying to make him see. And he can't believe it. He can't believe HIS CAS, the one he was defending with his whole body and soul against the suspicious, had betrayed him... And everything was truth.

I need some ice cream and cry a lot...

After this the confrontation goes on, and Sam is thinking Cas saved him from Hell without soul on purpose? That's the extreme of Castiel becoming evil, but Sam is thinking that because he never trusted blindly in Castiel, because he was Dean's best friend, not his... (But this will change in the next season. Their relationship will have an important turn.)

The next time Dean talks is here...

CASTIEL Listen. Raphael will kill us all. He'll turn the world into a graveyard. I had no choice.

DEAN: No, you had a choice. You just made the wrong one.

(This is the next thing Dean said to Cas, he had a choice, ask him for help, he's showing him the path he should choose. He's teaching him, as always.)

CASTIEL: You don't understand. It's complicated.

DEAN: No, actually, it's not, and you know that. Why else would you keep this whole thing a secret, huh, unless you knew that it was wrong? When crap like this comes around, we deal with it... Like we always have. What we don't do is we don't go out and make another deal with the Devil!

Here, Dean gets mad because he more listen Castiel's excuses, he more understands Castiel's is covering his lies with more lies.

CASTIEL: It sounds so simple when you say it like that.

This is so, so romantic people, the longing stares, the sadness in their eyes. Is like loosing a precious thing you found, a precious, beautiful and warm thing, that vanishes. It was Dean's hopes and faith. Cas was his savior, his best friend, his angel.

Give me just a minute, I need to roll on the floor and cry a little more ...

And then... The danger is near again, and Cas is trapped but he's worried about them, and he asks them to leave, to run... And that last looks between them... People who says this isn't a romantic scene... Fight me, because that's Dean saying... "Why you did this to me?, I love you," and Cas is saying "I love you too, but I had to do it. The mission comes first."

They talk with their eyes people...

Destiel breakup

Ok... Idk if Bobby draw the no angel sigil wrong, I like to think it was Dean. Because is weird Bobby not doing things like that well... And Dean wanted to talk with CAS again... It's obvious because he will try twice to convince him.

CASTIEL: I'm doing this for you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you.

Well we have the confirmation here, is for him, for Dean, to protect him.

DEAN Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me.

CASTIEL You're the one who taught me that freedom and free will --

DEAN You're a freakin' child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want doesn't mean that you get to do whatever you want!

Dean knows Cas tries to do things right, he was his free will teacher, that's why now, he'll try to convince Cas.

Now... First try...

DEAN I'm not gonna logic you, okay? I'm saying don't...Just 'cause. I'm asking you not to. That's it.

CASTIEL I don't understand.

Dean is asking desperately, because he sees Castiel has his mission in first place, and it doesn't let him see things as Dean want him to see it. So he says I SAY YOU DON'T, SO YOU DON'T, THAT'S IT. Like a father to a child.

Second intent...

DEAN Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family -- that you are like a brother to me. So, if I'm asking you not to do something...You got to trust me, man.

Again, he uses the same technic, but Cas just gets it as an attempt of defiance... Bc he's at war.

CASTIEL Or what?

Here's a different way to impose his power over Dean with that time Soulless!Sam tried to defy him. He went straight to confront him physically, invading his personal space, showing him not fear, "Would you, boy? How?"

This time... Is Dean... So... The way he says these words, with sorrow in his face. That's the difference between you and me, Dean... I'm an angel, you're just a man. We're from two different worlds... I'm stronger than you. So don't say you would stop me as if I was a monster.

DEAN I don't know. I've taken some pretty big fish.

CASTIEL I'm sorry, Dean.

DEAN Well, I'm sorry, too, then.

Mission comes first. Cas is a soldier.

This was their break up.

Loosing people, loosing you

If you were sobbing with 6x20, now 6x21 is... A sea of tear... "Let it Bleed".

At the beginning of the episode they're talking about Cas, Dean's face is a mix of sadness and longing, he's asking a question he maybe already knew, why did Cas come last night? If he didn't want to fix things?

Dean wanted to fix things with CAS, so when he saw him he tried fiercely to convince him, but he couldn't, then Bobby reveals Cas stole some book.

More dagas in Dean's heart. So he didn't come to see me, but to steel some book?

Crowley kidnapped Lisa and Ben, and Dean got crazy... Sam wanted to help him but he didn't know how... Balthazar didn't want to help, so he proposed something...

SAM: Look, Dean. Let's just call Cas. Maybe he doesn't know anything about this.

DEAN: We are not calling Cas.

SAM: Yeah, but Dean.

DEAN: We're not calling Cas!

Definitely not calling Cas, Dean is tremendously mad at him.

He will try to get some info from demons, and one will attack him... Cas will save him, and again... The struggling with the feelings...

This time is Cas trying to convince Dean he had not choice and he has to do it.

And the following lines...

Gah!!! That had to hurt... Damn, Cas you don't have to say Dean things he already knew... You was his ally, his best friend. He trusted you with his life. But Castiel's face is like someone who's pleading... Please Dean understand, forgive me, I love you. I'm doing this for you.

Can I die now?

And Dean's face is... Ugh! Suffering, suffering... I love you man, but you just screwed things up, badly, I can't forgive you.

And then...

CASTIEL: I came to tell you that I will find Lisa and Ben, and I will bring them back. Stand behind me, the one time I ask.

DEAN: You're asking me to stand down?

CASTIEL: Dean.

DEAN: That's the same damn ransom note that Crowley handed me. You know that, right? Well no thanks. I'll find 'em myself. In fact, why don't you go back to Crowley and tell him that I said you can both kiss my ass.

Now he's mad, very mad... He walks away and gives Castiel his back, clenching his fist with anger.

He's trying to control himself, he can't believe CAS is talking like Crowley, is the worst, where's his Castiel???

The face he made after Cas is gone is priceless, is a mix between pain, anger and sadness... Gah.

Ok, hospital... Lisa is in bad shape... And Castiel appears...

DEAN: What do you want?

He's so, so mad at Cas.

CASTIEL: Dean, listen.

DEAN: What do you want me to say? She'll be dead by midnight.

CASTIEL: I'm sorry.

DEAN: I don't care. It's too little, too late.

CASTIEL: Okay. Well, regardless, I didn't come for you.

DEAN: Meaning?

CASTIEL: (he walks up to Lisa and places his hand on her forehead, healing her) She's fine now. She'll wake soon. Dean, I said I'm sorry and I meant it.

Ok... This was sad and it'll be the last time they will talk about it before Cas become Godstiel.

Dean is heartbroken, he lost Lisa, Ben and now Cas... Because he can't elaborate in his head Cas isn't his friend anymore. So heartbroken, his face is priceless here. His eyes with unshed tears. Because of CAS. He will ask him to erase Ben and Lisa memories, but Castiel's Betrayal, as he will say in 7x17, he couldn't swallow it... So yes, this face is mostly for Castiel. Bc he lost him.

Godstiel, and the last intent to get Cas back

In episode 6x22, the last of the season, Cas did two things, in my opinion, were out of character.

1) He broke Sam's mental war (when in Season 5 he will kill anyone who tries to hurt him) he never NEVER would do something to hurt Sam.

2) He killed Balthazar, another friend, bc he felt he'd betrayed him.

Ok... This maybe was used by the showrunner to present us the wrong path Cas was following to his mere death.

Don't worry, she'll be asked to fix this by writing Castiel's return to the show in 7x17 (oops).

After doing these two things, he become Godstiel, he wasn't Cas, he was a new entity.

The way he was talking to Dean showed us that. He was like a heartless powerful creature.

Even so, Dean will try to get to him...

We can see in the hunter's face fears and concern about his friend...

DEAN: Listen to me. Listen, I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I'd have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you... Please. I've lost Lisa, I've lost Ben, and now I've lost Sam. Don't make me lose you too. You don't need this kind of juice anymore, Cas. Get rid of it before it kills us all.

So desperate, he knew it was a huge danger Cas was like a nuclear bomb, but there's love in his words. He's trying his best to get his angel back. It was in vain, as we know...

To Conclude

Dean and Cas break up showed us the profound love they feel for each other, 6x20 and 6x21 were purely romantic, and you can feel the pain and the longing all over it.

It was clear that loosing Cas wasn't loosing just a friend, it hurted badly to Dean because, as I said in the last volume, Cas was more than family to him.

The performance from the actor was deliberately played as a romantic scene. Jensen and Misha knew what they were doing there. It was two people in love breaking up.

Ok, we finished this season people, sorry for the long post! But next one we will get into season 7, I assume it'll be less volumes.

I hope you like this, see you in the next chronicle.

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @koshisekisen @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @angelneedshunter @trickster-archangel @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @mishka-the-angel-of-saturday @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @xsghn @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

If you want to be tagged, please let me know.

If you want to check the previous volumes...

Vol. XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XIX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII

Buenos Aires, Augusto 14th 2019 8:07 PM

#destiel chronicles #destiel meta #supernatural meta #season 6 meta #vol. xxiv

129 notes · View notes