He’s been born into it, the cold cathedral walls of order and humility, the black and white reality. His childhood has been a soldier’s stance, his mother’s sharp tongue and discipline still ingrained into him to this very day. Between the blue-tinted corridors and occasional trips to Idris, his whole life has played out without his input, because the eldest child wears the heavy crown of responsibility.
His life has been endless hours of studies and twice as much time spent training, until breathing burned his lungs and his knuckles turned into a kaleidoscope of bruises beneath the shattered light in the colors of the stained glass windows. His childhood was never truly his own, instead it belonged to his parents, stern-faced and cutting cold, because ‘mistake’ was not a word he was allowed to speak.
“This is a picture of me before I lost my job. It was only a year ago but I barely recognize that person now. I was thirty pounds heavier. I was much more confident. It felt like a guardian angel was guiding my steps. Things always seemed to work out for me. Now it seems like my guardian angel is drunk. Now I look at this picture and see a man who’s wearing a mask. The man in the picture wants to be seen as a person who does important things. He wants to be seen as confident, and harsh, and a leader. He wants to be seen as an attorney. Now I just want to be seen as a person. Someone who’s calm. Who’s balanced. Who loves his friends and family. And who’s kind.”
Okay, okay, okay, but I CANNOT get this AU idea out of my head:
Castiel, as a Reaper instead of an Angel.
Castiel, meeting Dean for the first time when Dean is four years old, standing in front of his burning home with the flames reflecting in the tear tracks on his face. Castiel revealing himself to Dean, gently prompting Dean to mind Sammy’s head as the infant cries and squirms, because he really doesn’t want to reap more than one soul tonight. Laying a sorrowful, sheltering hand on Dean’s head and staring down into pleading green eyes and whispering, “I’m sorry,” before walking slowly up the burning porch to reap Mary Winchester’s soul (who refuses to go with him anyways).
Castiel, as the Reaper who appears to Dean after the car accident while Dean is in a coma, shocked when Dean remembers him from that night so many years ago. Dean jokingly asking, “Are my guardian angel or something?” and Castiel sadly telling him, “No. Rather the opposite, I’m afraid,” and having to explain to Dean about the existence of Reapers. Castiel wishing to himself that he didn’t have to reap this vibrant young man, who is brave and frustrating and stubborn and obviously so full of life, and then realizing he should be careful about what he wishes for, because Dean is spared but Castiel is forced to reap Dean’s father instead, and he hates that he’s causing Dean more pain.
Castiel, meeting Dean again less than a year later. And then meeting him again. And again. And again, as Dean and Sam work the Trickster case, and Dean dies every day. They get to know each other pretty well, and it becomes something of a running joke: “We’ve got to stop meeting this way, Cas,” Dean teases, and each day Dean bemoans the ridiculous new way that he’s just been killed, and Castiel commiserates sympathetically and helpfully points out that at least Dean didn’t pee himself this time. And he hates that Dean has to die every day, but he hates himself even more because he can’t help dreading the day they catch the Trickster and it all stops, because then he won’t have an excuse to keep seeing Dean and listen to his laugh and hear about his favorite bands and watch the fond way he looks at his brother.
Castiel, appearing when Sam is stabbed by Jake, sick to death with the thought of reaping the soul from Dean’s brother. He doesn’t reveal himself to Dean in the real world this time, even though he could, because he can’t bear to have Dean turn those stricken green eyes on him, he’s a coward, a coward, a coward - but it doesn’t stop Dean, kneeling in the dirt and clutching the lifeless body of his brother tight in his arms, from screaming out, “I know you’re out there, Cas! Don’t you dare take him! I’ll never forgive you!” And he thinks it’s a cruel, cruel joke that he’s destined to continually reap the souls of the people Dean loves most, one by one, and when Castiel leads away the soul of Sam Winchester, there are tears on both their faces as they tell Dean ‘goodbye’, even though he can’t hear them.
Castiel, being summoned one year later, unsure of what’s happening, suddenly finding himself staring down at Dean’s shredded body on the floor at his feet - but Dean’s soul is still here, obstinate and unyielding, circled by snapping hellhounds but refusing to let them drag him away because “I said I’d go to Hell and I will, but I don’t need hand-fucking-delivered by these fleabags, I’ll take my own way there, goddammit! I’m allowed a Reaper! Bring Castiel the Reaper!” And Castiel raises his eyes and meets Dean’s gaze, and it’s gentle, and resigned, and frightened, and forgiving, and Castiel doesn’t deserve it, he’s never deserved anything less than the understanding in those eyes, and he’d rather be anywhere else, he’d rather be dead himself, than here to take away Dean’s soul to Hell. But he does his job and he leads Dean to the gates of Hell, except then he can’t go, he can’t leave Dean here, he can’t - until Dean kisses him, sudden and fleeting, and tells him, “It’s okay, Cas,” and pushes him away.
Castiel, blindly turning away for only the briefest span of time - the blink of an eye, the pulse of a human heartbeat - before he realizes he can’t do this. Screw the job, screw the deals, and screw the laws of nature, he will not leave Dean here…except when he turns around, Dean is already gone.
Castiel, spending the next forty years breaking into Hell, laying waste to horde after horde of demons with the fatal touch of his ghastly true form. The memory of Dean’s kiss burns a brand against his lips, and when he finally, finally finds Dean, the touch of Castiel’s spectral hand burns its own brand on Dean’s soul as he grips him tight - the touch of death claiming a soul already dead, because Dean is his. Dean looking up at Castiel, and his soul is messy and tortured and broken, but he still manages a smile as he chokes out: “See? Told ya you were my guardian angel,” and Castiel carries Dean’s soul out of Hell and chooses life.
I don't want to suddenly make the conversations deep, but I'm gonna make the conversations deep. You are literally one of my favorite blogs ever. The way you selflessly say Jimin won't like you(bitch if he met you he would marry dont argue with me on this)and how you are so nice to your followers ughh you're just so nice????And sweet???? And perfect???? You are so pretty too. I hope this blog cheers you up if you are ever sad. With love -🖤💌🖤
I really needed a message like this, honestly. I would like to know who you are, you are like my guardian angel right now hahaha Thank you so much for everything (Ugh I’m sorry it’s hard for me to express myself in English… I need to improve it) I know Jimin would’t like me tho. My followers boi… We are like a big family here, we all should be nice to each other.
💛🏡 You really cheered me up, thank you so much! I love you.
i love you because you're fiercely, genuinely, mercilessly yourself. with a whip-sharp tongue and bright eyes, you are all i admire and all i ever want to be. you say what's on my mind - you are like part of my soul. you remind me of who i am, and i'm never more sure of myself when i'm with you.
i love you because you're so warm and soft. i am undeserving of your gentleness, your tenderness, your patience and comfort - but you offer it to me anyway. you hold me up when i'm in danger of falling down, and you make me laugh when i feel like all i'd rather do is cry. you are forever my guardian angel, and i could never be thankful enough.
i love you because you make me feel alive. it's like life comes into focus when you are around - everything is vivid, interesting, beautiful. you're like a shot of oxytocin when the darkness comes creeping in, and i could never get enough of you.
i love you because you feel like home. we may not see eye to eye, but you stand by me when i need it most. you are the rock keeping steady by my side, and there is a quiet familiarity you bring that always puts me at ease. you are my family.
i love you because you make me feel like i am the brightest star in the sky. you treat me like a princess, and your vivacity makes my heart deliriously happy no matter the circumstances. you are the light of my life, radiant and unforgettable.
i love you because you are like stable ground in the middle of an earthquake. you ground me, see into me - not past me like so many people do. you help me feel okay when things feel anything but. you are unchanging in the face of chaos, and i know i can always turn to you.
i love you because you never push me too far. i don't feel like i have to act around you - unlike others, you don't expect anything from me, and it's a freedom more relieving than words can explain. you let me be without a mask, and sometimes that's all i need.
i love you because we don't need words. i can count on you to have my back when it counts, and you understand when i need silence more than conversation. you know the importance of quiet, and i appreciate that more than you know.
i love you because you see my potential. you are my inspiration, my brilliant epiphany - you make life something fresh and new, filled with adventure and excitement. you make me believe that there is so much on the horizon. with you i could forget my problems - you are irreplaceable, my elixir like nothing else.
i love you because you try your very best. you may not be able to read my mind, but you put your entire heart and soul into doing whatever you can for me. sometimes it's not the result that counts but the effort, and you prove that to the furthest extent.
i love you because you bring me back to reality. you not only listen, but you speak, and your honesty means everything to me. you never judge me - instead, you take everything i give you and try to help me with all your heart. your dedication is unwavering, and no matter how deep under i am, you never let me drown.
i love you because you are so damned strong. you've been through so much shit, and yet i know that you'd drop everything in a second to help me. despite everything you've suffered, you still look at life like it's the best thing you've ever been given. i don't deserve your support and optimism, but you have the best heart of anyone i've ever known - and i know that somehow, it's always open for me.
i hate it but i want to be back where it was easy. i just mean i used to eat things without worrying. dessert coming first didn’t make me feel guilty, i didn’t have to say “we’re being bad tonight” and mean more than being unhealthy. when someone hurt you by accident they’d just say sorry instead of defending themselves why you deserved to get hit. stuff was easier. if you didn’t like her you just weren’t her friend. if you loved her you got married on the playground and nobody made fun of it. when you said “i’m tired” the teacher suggested naptime, not “get over it”.
i know i’m an adult. i know it’s silly. i know i have plenty of things like mac and cheese and dino socks and a credit card i can use to buy pizza. but i also just want to sleep and wake up and start over. go back to where it went wrong and tell myself. it’s okay about the dessert and when they call you fat cover your ears. when he hits you, hit back, and get out of there. when she hurts you, stop talking to her, even if you’re worried you won’t have friends after. yeah, you like her, and people will hate you for it. kiss her anyway. be tired. but get out of bed, my love. take advantage of all of it. can i be my own guardian angel? go back in time and untangle all of it?