knightforthewinchester-blog

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

Getting back into an account after being gone for a while is always rEALLY HARD. Which is why I've been kinda avoiding it. I'm gonna try to get back into Cas? Most likely I'll be only working with like 1 or 2 threads before I get his character again, but I will try to be over here and on Charlie more, so, yes.

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

I bet you missed me, didn't you.

I will aLWAYS miss you when you leave.

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

Klaus dyed Cas' Trenchcoat pink.

Klaus dyed Cas’ Trenchcoat pink.

Klaus dyed Cas’ Trenchcoat pink.

                                        Klaus dyed Cas’ Trenchcoat pink.

            [ Click. ]

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

   Castiel regarded her quietly. Watching her face for any flicker of emotion that could offset some kind of facade she was trying to pull. He wasn't suspicious of her actions, just her motives for them mainly. His angel blade was one of the only things that could kill him on this plain. Whether she would stake him the first chance she got was something he couldn't exactly believe.

    Azula could be-- spiteful, yes. But he held her in high regards still. She wouldn't kill him with his own sword for the sake of revenge, would she?

                               No.                                  No, that was paranoia.

    Still though, his angel blade wasn't exactly something he could hand out at this time. For all he knew Naomi was still coming for him. He still had the tablet, maybe not on his person but it was in his possession. The blade was his only line of defense left at this point. Sigils would do no good considering it would only block him out as well. If he gave up his blade to her, he would be putting their whole production in danger--

   "-- What do you need it for, Azula?" To think that he was even giving this consideration. It just showed how the past weeks had put a strain on his mind, pushing it to the brink of insanity but shoved just a bit too hard and missed the mark completely, leaving his mind in shambles that were contemplating handing his only line of defense over to a demon.     Not just any demon. Azula.

     In the end he guessed that somewhat made up for it.

   The one demon he could trust even above Crowley at his lowest point. If she was calling on him for such a powerful weapon there was no doubt she was in serious trouble. Azula wasn't weak. She could hold her own and fight till the last man standing. So why would she need his sword?

    "Please, do not just say for your own security." If he was going to trust her with such a thing he was going to need a reason. Not just some one word answer and then a goodbye. 

    He didn't want the whole story, he didn't need to hear what kind of trouble she was getting herself into lately. But he wanted something more than the usual flaky excuse one would get after such a request. It seemed whenever he trusted somebody with such things it managed to come back to haunt him. Castiel didn't want this to be one of those times. 

   Rebelling from Heaven, becoming God, trying to stop being God, self sacrifice for the greater good. Azula. All of it managed to crawl back in and drag him down someway, somehow. Handing over a weapon that could very much kill him again was one thing he had no intention of allowing history to take over and screw with like all the times before. For once he was working at something he thought could truly save his brothers and sisters. He was working to repent for all of his past sins and seek forgiveness in his absent fathers eyes. 

     Maybe he'd be granted it. Maybe not. Either way he was doing something good for once. He couldn't afford to put himself in harms way any further than he already was right now. 

  Castiel was able to manifest the blade in his hand, holding it up he twirled it once in his fingers so the blade faced down, laying flat against the under side of his forearm. The fact that he was even thinking about agreeing to this was--

           "If I give this to you, you have to promise you will only use it for protection." He was already in enough of a binding with everything, he didn't need to hear about some demon running around with one of Heaven's weapons killing off angels and innocents for the fun of it. 

    "I can not hand this over if you are going to use it for murder. I still have a personal code to uphold for such a thing." Enough blood had been shed by his blade already.

   His gaze stayed on her face. Scanning over her features and eyes, trying to place the emotions he could only barely decipher at this point. It wasn't a matter of if he trusted her or not, it wasn't that he was being racist against demons. It was like a protocol.

   They were't supposed to just hand out their weapons like it was a mere pocket knife that could be replaced at the next corner store. Their weapons were special in their design. Forged and blessed in their fathers name to slay in the name of divine justice. Whether it was used on each other or completely different species. They all had their weakness. 

    Though after all of this blood shed over the last few years, he supposed they had a new meaning.

i'm too far gone to turn around

  It was cute, really, that he was so quick to jump and offer his help and assume that she needed his personal assistance. Maybe if this was a different time, perhaps before her death, she would have found it comforting and reassuring.

                                                  Now, not so much.

  No, she didn’t want him meddling in her personal affairs when she still didn’t know what he was up to or whose side he was on. Honestly, if she did get into serious trouble, she would much rather fight alone with his angel blade than risk him killing her again — this time against her will.

  Perhaps it was wrong of her to believe that would actually happen, but she couldn’t help it.

                                               Yes, he had loved her.                                          And yes, she had loved him.

  It was an accidental kind of thing that was never supposed to take on a life of its own and grow into something so reckless and dangerous that had both Heaven and Hell terrified of the consequences. It was never meant to be more than a friendship.

  —but it was more and he had loved her enough to  k i l l  her, even when it hurt him more than it hurt anyone else in the world, and that’s what also had destroyed them.

  All trust in him — and anyone else, for that matter — flew out of the metaphorical window the moment she opened her eyes in Purgatory and realized that he had actually done it.

  At the very last second, after she had closed her eyes and gripped his coat in her hands, after she buried her face in his chest and fought back tears, she began having second thoughts, but it was too late.

  There was no use blaming Cas for that, but part of her wished that he had loved her a little less to where he refused to let her die just because she was feeling guilty.

  She wished he loved her a little less so they could spend more time together instead of just little moments here and there because they both figured that being immortal, they had all the time in the world to be together.

  What could have been her greatest triumph — redemption and love — turned into her greatest downfall — death.

  She had no time for such thoughts and shook her head to clear them away, forcing herself to focus in on the task at hand and get what she came for. It was time to bury away those emotions and sew up the wound again before it infected her entire being with memories.

  Memories were just sad reflections of what could still be, if only they had done things a differently somewhere down the road.

                                                               If Only.

“I don’t need you, Castiel,” her tone had become softer after she pulled away from her inner musings, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice. She didn’t want to show any sort of weakness in front of him, threat or not.

  She felt that after everything, Cas at least owed this one bit of safety to her. She had been pulled back into a world for unknown reasons, until recently, and things had changed in her absence, no matter how short it proved to be.

                            Now all that was left was to drop the bombshell.

                                                  “I need your angel blade.”

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

I will be fine. Adjusting to humanity can be managed over time--   I fear for the others though. They are not... educated in this field.

knightforthewinchester started following you

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

     His eyes dropped at the words. The truth all to clear at this point had stung him. The horsemen were always around. Planning, plotting, figuring out ways on how to turn the Earth into even more of a crater. It was only a matter of time before everything was gone. Not that they had much now but, the thought was still sickening. Humanity was dying out. Soon they'd claim victory.            Cas was well aware what sort of recklessness could accompany such morbid thoughts. He just didn't even bother to care at this point. The previous high he had been feeling as the effects of the marijuana had pulsed through his blood system was fading now, leaving the reality of this that much more vivid. If War was here his brothers were probably not far off.

      War was war. He was cocky, rude, scary as all hell, and destructive to a degree. A kids worst nightmare wrapped up in a clever looking meatsuit and topped with a bow of intelligence. He would use the term 'perfect criminal' but it was more fitting than anything else he could come up with at that moment.          The gun was removed from his hands in a swift motion void of any retaliation. Cas might have been human and, possibly still, stoned but he knew better than to openly argue in such a way with someone like War. The world might have gone to shit but he didn't have a death wish-- not yet.

     He bit back a snide remark, not exactly keen on the idea of listening to him reminisce about the days of yor. He got enough to that crap from back at the camp. Twitchy trauma survivors screaming about the life they once had. Sympathy he had. Empathy even. But if there was one thing he learned, from Dean, it was that they had to focus on the now. The past wasn't in their reach. It was fight now grieve when it's over. Why would he want to sit silent and listen to an ageless horsemen gloat about his golden days?

                     "A [ ᴘʀɪsᴏɴᴇʀ ] of War."

   The fact that War actually expected him to just drop everything and allow himself to be hauled off like some sort of rag doll to be thrown in a cage was.. well, almost laughable. Cas had a reason for staying. If he hadn't there was no doubt he would have off'd himself right when he felt his grace slip and the celestial wavelength he once listened to for hours on end fade into endless silence. He wasn't going to leave these people, he wasn't going to leave Dean behind to fend for himself. No matter how strong a front the Winchester put on that would convince anyone else otherwise.

   "Well, it's a fine offer you have got yourself there, War. I'm gonna have to decline though." He had taken the time to weigh the options. Which was more dangerous. Refuse and risk death or torture, or leave and live for the torture and pray for death? Which was the road less darkened by the expanse of time? "I'm not looking to relocate exactly."

+ { Croat Country }

      “Yes— War. Good for you, you’ve proven that you gained some part of a brain. I don’t know if you’ve been keeping tabs, but I’m not even finished yet. Chicago is just a little pit stop on this grand journey of mine. I figured I might run into my brothers while I’m here; you never know where those three are hiding.”

      He moved so he was closer to the man, eyeing the being up and down and giving a small shake of his head. Here before him was what was once considered a powerful being, someone people looked up to. Now dressed in clothes that seem to have not been washed in days, glazed over eyes, either from lack of sleep or other means, and a gun in his hand. 

      “Pathetic,” War spoke out loud. Kicking the gun from the mans hand, he laughed. It echoed off of the side of the building and down the street; the entire windy city which was once buzzing with life was now barren. Hearing the laugh reverberate off of the ruins sent a chill down his spine— It sounded maniacal. 

      “While you’re here,” War began, crouching down and picking up some of the soot that had masked the asphalt, “I’ll continue to talk while you just listen.

      Do you remember back in the good old days? Prisoners of War, is what they called them. At first I didn’t really take to the term; prisoners in my name? Absurd. But then after about.. oh, the first day, I really came to my senses. Well, Angel. Seeing as you’ve been practically abandoned by your little group, you’ll become one of those Prisoners. Don’t make this difficult for me, lad. I’d hate to get any blood on my suit.”

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

I feel like its been so long since I've actually been over here. Wow, so surreal.

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

Hello, Dean.

knightforthewinchester started following you

Cas….

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

#excuse yOU #i am my own being #i am one with myself #i am my own God

#excuse the fuck outta you #i practically created you #betch

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

#whatever i feel like #you dont know me

#vey #whAT do you think ur doing

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

   A point? Several points, if he may be correct. Though he guessed it wasn't exactly the time to speak of such things. It was done and over with. Anything they may have had had been buried just like emotions he had tried to dispose of when she was g o n e.

    Grudges were bad. They festered and grew causing anger-- pain. They were not something he was too keen on keeping. Especially in someone's case such as Azula's. A few cases, while special, didn't really apply to her. Whether for one reason or another he didn't question it. He was above acting so spiteful. So he'd pull back. Speak plain and openly. Just because they no longer held any sort of connection it didn't mean they couldn't be civil..

                                 Right?

   Possibly. It was worth a shot. She had yet to actually show any signs that would declare her a threat, her words not even reflecting such a thing. The way he saw it it was just Azula being herself. No matter how arrogant and toying she might be.  It was nothing to be alarmed over. So why should he react in such a manner? He wasn't going to apologize though. In that way he still had some pride; kind of.  

   It didn't matter which of them was the bigger threat. It seemed to be an unspoken rule that harm wouldn't come to either. Not lethal harm at least.           Castiel had half expected her to show any signs of physical aggression when he had seen her last. But nothing came. She may have been nothing more than a demon but he knew she was still capable of inflicting some sort of damage. She was crafty like that. 

   "Protection?" That caught his attention. What would cause her to come to Castiel for such a thing? He had--.

           He had other things he needed to tend to. To protect. He couldn't exactly drop everything to help. If it was a bodyguard she needed she'd have to look elsewhere.     At one time he would have agreed without needing much more information than a name. But things had changed and he couldn't blindly accept a task no matter how small. Right now nothing could outweigh the trials or Sam.

Not even Azula.

   "What do you need?" The question slipped out before he could even work it over. No matter. He still had the option to deny, curiosity present or not. He could admit he was curious. It always seemed there was something trying to kill one of them. Whatever it was this time must have been bold in any attempted it made to cause harm if she had came to him.

                                        "I can not provide much personal assistance if that is what's needed."

i'm too far gone to turn around

   He did not seem happy about their inevitable reunion, even if it was a little more than unexpected. Of course, he didn’t have to be so hostile about it; she thought he’d at least be somewhat glad to see that she had fully recovered from her time spent in Purgatory.

   She would get over it, though. His world didn’t revolve around her and it never did, no matter how close they had once been. No matter how much she loved him or he loved her, they never belonged to one another.

                                      They couldn’t belong to one another.

   And it wasn’t just because they both liked their freedom, or because possession was a touchy subject for both of them; it was because of how wrong their relationship was in general. Two beings on complete opposite sides of the Good versus Evil spectrum coming together and forming a bond that was almost unbreakable was unheard of. It was an abomination.

                                            At least it should have been.

   Of course their connection existed on an emotional level alone — she didn’t know if it was because neither of them had dared make it physical or if it was because they didn’t have enough time for such things — but that didn’t make it any less wrong.

   ”I suppose you have a point on both accounts,” her voice still carried that almost arrogant tone she had been using, even if she had brought her attitude down a couple of notches. She didn’t want to turn this into a fight, especially since she was going to ask him for such a heavy favor.

  She fell silent again, considering the possible reactions he would have to her request. Based on his current attitude alone, the chances of him agreeing to what she planned on asking for were slim to none at all.

   What angel in his right mind would hand a demon the one weapon that could permanently kill him? Hopefully Cas wasn’t in his right mind today because she didn’t know who else would give her an angel blade.

                                                        “I need protection.”

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

    To say Azula was the last person he ever expected to cross paths with would possibly be the understatement of the century. They had made an agreement to keep away. Their past, while for the most part laid with fond memories, was nothing more than that. The p a s t. The last interaction they had had ended with a truce to stay separated. One he had intended to stay true to.

   Castiel would not interfere with her and her- business, while she would keep her distance from Castiel and his endeavors with the Winchesters. He couldn't control what sort of interactions she had with Dean and Sam nor did he really care at this point. So long as Dean was living he had no problems with it. Other than the brief snark and anger that was shown between them they had parted on okay terms.   But that didn't mean Castiel would have to be happy about her breaking their agreement. 

  He could feel the darkness of her being approach before he actually heard her voice. The familiar tip in the balance reflecting the same familiarity of the accent hitched through her vocals. Somewhere in his mind he was asking how she had even found him. Even if by chance-- out of every city in the area, every continent in the world, the odds of them coming together were slim to none. 

     Eyes scanning over her sᴛᴀɪɴᴇᴅ attire he wondered just how many innocent lives she had taken to garnish such a look. His hands weren't clean of such things either, just as she had said, but he was attempting to atone for such sins. Not proudly display it on his coat. 

                               Then again-.. he wasn't a demon.

  It was nothing to hold against her though. Castiel had no say in it and he knew that. "I have not been even remotely your Angel in months." To say he ever was though might even be a stretch. Castiel had been devoted to her as wholly as he was allowed, yes, but as they both know so well there was always other things to block certain connections. Possession was never even on the table. 

   "What goes on in Heaven does not concern you. Nor has it ever." Judging by the use of tone in her words and the look conveyed in her eyes he had no doubts this meeting wasn't going to be the friendliest they've had. No matter. In his experience with watching human interactions and television this was a normal occurrence for past relationships. Though he had no idea why.

      "Was there something you needed, Azula?"

i'm too far gone to turn around

    For the longest time Azula had been dreading seeing Castiel again after they parted ways and said good bye, but all that changed when she snapped back into the heartless and emotionless monster she was meant to be.

    Instead of being terrifying unwanted, it was instead a welcome distraction, especially with her new found attitude and outlook on life.

   It was unfortunate, though, that he’d have to see her in her current state. Blood was splattered in her hair and across her face and completely soaked the front of her shirt and pants, but she stopped caring about it the closer she got to him.

   With a slight skip in her step, she approached the angel, fixing him with a smirk as she devised something to say to him.

  “Well if it isn’t my angel,” her voice was one part mock surprise and four parts sarcasm and she was finding it increasingly more difficult to hide how terribly amused she was with the situation.

   ”I heard Heaven was missing one. I don’t think it was you they were referring to, though. Does Heaven miss the thing that destroyed it?”

  Her words were cruel but she found them hilarious, especially since she had thought of them on the fly like that. And so now she waited, with not so baited breath, for Castiel’s reaction that would be priceless — or so she hoped. 

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

Okay, so, I've been away from this account for far too long and I figure it may be time to jump back into the saddle. Unfortunately I am busy with end of the year projects and such so I might not put these changes into effect right away. However be aware that they will happen sooner or later.

I am going to revamp a lot of things. Several threads will be dropped, due to lateness and dust, deactivation, abandoned accounts, and so on and so forth. If we have a thread going and you'd like to keep it rolling just shoot me a message and we can work it out. I'm stuck on deleting everything and starting really fresh or just rolling with it; but that's for another time. I'm going to be replying to a few threads tonight that have been discussed with partners already but that's it.

Everything is most likely going though. Theme change, character interactions(with the exception of a few select), threads, any independent characterization. Totally flipped. 

With that said.. let's do this.

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

let’s walk down the road that has no end steal away where only angels tread heaven or hell or somewhere in between cross your heart to take me when you leave

don’t go please don’t go don’t go without me

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

   Castiel barely flinched at her sudden burst of movement. Hand still held in its original position he raised his brows at her in mild distaste. The sudden alerted contact wasn't exactly something he would have been too fond of if it had been anyone but her. Physical contact was one thing. It was called for when necessary. Smiting, healing, saving, reviving. But for recreational purposes? He saw little meaning or point to it. Anyone outside of Meg he would have most likely injured for even laying their hands on a deity such as himself. 

   He left his palm open as her fingers moved over the skin of his vessel. "Of course I was concerned." He began keeping his eyes tight on her face. "Without you by my side I would virtually be nothing more than one of my brothers." For the most part at least. She was half of his power. Without her he would be only as powerful as an archangel like Michael or Raphael. That didn't exactly live up to God expectations. 

   Castiel had no problem admitting that to her. Meg was the one person he truly trusted after everything. The Winchetsers.. they had stabbed him in the back. Crowley was scum. He could never be trusted from the start. The other Angels? They were mindless droids. There was no real use of them for anything important. Meg was the one that he could rely on. If he had lost her not only would it be a slap to his power level; but also a major blow to his assets. That was something he couldn't afford at this time. No matter how stable his state of rule was.

   He held still as she pressed her feet onto him, curling his fingers around her own in return. A smirk playing on his lips as she spoke. They were both older than old, there was no arguing there. "I am well on board with this plan." 

   Placing his other hand on the small of her back, he shifted their position by lifting her up and placing her on his lap; holding her close. He barely grinned at her question. Of course he was fine. Barely was there a threat against him in this world. The fact that she had to even ask was almost amusing. "I am fine. The sentiment is appreciated." Castiel spoke as his eyes trimmed over her.  

All Hail The New God||{+knightforthewinchester}

She didn’t know she’d curled up tighter around herself while he was away. Sometimes the blankets were the only thing to keep her from crawling out of the borrowed skin. She wasn’t even sure how she’d managed not to crawl out of her skin the last few, months now was it? Damn, he was good. Who else could keep the demon in such a domestic -dare she say it- relationship? 

Fingers against her skin woke her quickly. Brown eyes shot open as her hand clasped to his wrist. Clearly he wasn’t angry, but she wouldn’t put all her dice in that bag. She’d yet to open her mind to him, and after he dreams, she wasn’t stupid enough to do so. Unlike him, she still had shreds of her humanity. She still did a few human things, fuck heaven very much. “Why so smug, Angelface?” she muttered under her breath, dropping her eyes to her fingers locked around him. She knew she should’ve released him a while ago, but when had she ever listened. 

Meg let her grip loosen, fingers trailing to his palm. She knew the hunt was stupid. Crowley had it out for him, and more easy a target, her. The King of Hell didn’t just lose a deal, he lost his plaything. Self preservation wasn’t at the top of her list, but she’d be damned thrice-fold if Crowley would get her back. The demon sat up, pushing the hair out of her face before smirking in amusement. He didn’t need to know she was being self conscious, and if conversation kept him from asking her just why she hadn’t opened herself back up to him? So be it. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were concerned about me? I must say I’m, touched, McSmitey.” 

Kicking her legs out from their now too hot nest, Meg placed her feet on his bent thighs. It was easier to touch and make sure it was really him and not a puppet.  Crowley was good at them. Tilting her head, the demon linked their fingers subconsciously  She really needed to stop with the paranoia. Meg sighed softly, frowning to herself. Opening her mind again, after forcing her thoughts to bleakness, she leaned forward, pressing her face into the crook of his neck with a tired sigh. “I’m gettin’ too old for this.”

Snorting at her own joke, Meg reached up to scratch at the back of his neck. “We won’t be doing that again for a very, very long time. We’re talking centuries here.” Pressing her lips against his neck, she huffed at the urge to check him over. She knew better than to think anyone would hurt him. He was God, and by ritual and oath, she was a part of him. “You’re okay?”

[knightforthewinchester-blog]

For Vey

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