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Sorry I'm Not Made of Sugar

@prettymessedupsituation / prettymessedupsituation.tumblr.com

Fic and shipping blog. NSFW some of the time. The saltier and sometimes smutty blog-twin of hellblazerdean. I'm Ash. Yell at me anytime.

First and Last Words, Castiel 4x01 - 15x18

Wow, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Cause sure, at first this is quite funny, but then when you think about it more… 

[incoherent angelic screeching] - that’s Castiel, an angel of the lord, one of the most powerful beings in existence, feared by demons themselves (who up until that point were the biggest bad in Supernatural); a billion year old divine creature so strange and peculiar, humans can’t even comprehend seeing their true form or hearing their true voice - their true form being a size of the Chrysler building and their true voice shattering windows and humans’ eardrums. 

“Goodbye, Dean” - that’s Cas, a self-hating and broken angel (or, well, according to himself - a poor example of one). A being, who was designed to follow orders and worship god, but instead came off the line with a crack in his chassis instead and did not do what he was told. A creature, who wasn’t designed to feel emotions, but fell in love so hard he invented free will in order to feel it. 

This is the same divine, powerful, emotionless, deadly, ancient being we see in the first gif, only 12 years later on (which is a goddamned nanosecond in his damned billion year old existence, when you think about it). Only now, we see this being with the tears in his eyes, saying goodbye to the love of his life, feeling immense happiness from just being able to proclaim his love to this another being - a mere, powerless, stupid, emotional, traumatised human - feeling satisfaction from just being able to save them for the one last time, just like he did, when he first met him 12 years ago.

12 years is all it took for Dean - a hunter, who never got to be a kid, acutely emotional, daddy’s good little soldier - to change Castiel - a billion year old, emotionless, heavenly god’s soldier. And we see it here the best - in these two gifs.

A saccharine, pointless fix-it fic, set post-15x19. Because you deserve it.

Dean doesn’t even make it down the stairs into the bunker before he’s already praying.

Dear Jack, who art in heaven, hope you’re eating your vegetables and wearing deodorant—being a noncorporeal celestial entity is no excuse not to—and, oh, could you please bring your dad back from black goo mega hell?

It seems a little selfish at this point to pray to Jack—kid just brought back the entire human race, so he could probably use a bit of a breather, but it can’t hurt to add just a little tick to his to-do list. Besides, maybe Dean’s earned being a little selfish. Maybe it’s finally Dean’s opportunity to cash in his “whoops, I killed your mom” favor with his wayward antichrist slash omniscient deity slash son.

He gets to the bottom of the stairs, tosses his bag down on the war room table, starts down the hallway toward his bedroom, and.

Oh. There’s Cas.