saintsurvivors reblogged
@you-cant-spell-subtext-without requested -> a chaotic Sam and Cas escapade:
INSIDE MAN (10x17)
saintsurvivors reblogged
In the first time that I saw you You cleaned the mess from my head
saintsurvivors reblogged
yellowmonday-deactivated2022120
jack likes to ask questions like “if we were on a desert island, which of us would we eat first?” dean says what the fuck is wrong with you. also we would eat sam because he’s the biggest so he could feed us the longest. sam says….right….but you would die first though. so we’d eat you first. and cas says, easy, i would simply exit my vessel and inhabit dean or whoever. and dean’s like what. and cas says well who else would i inhabit? and dean is like what the fuck is wrong with YOU and sam says dude, chill, it was a reasonable answer. cas i’d let you possess me. cas says thank you sam. that means a lot. jack says i think we would eat ME first because younger flesh tastes better. and sam is like…..yeah kiddo you’re right but i wouldn’t be able to eat you. actually, i’m changing my answer. cas, i’d be honored to eat your vessel. cas says thank you sam that also means a lot. dean says WHAT is wrong with ALL of you
pinkfloydguy
ive added a visual element
saintsurvivors reblogged
epithalamium by louise glück
saintsurvivors reblogged
you’re at the farmers market and you see two men holding hands, looking lovingly into each other’s eyes. as you stand next to them, trying to decide which variety of apple to buy, the tall one with the long hair says “my shoulder is STILL sore from cutting that bastard’s head off. i thought he would never die. maybe we need to sharpen the machetes.” the one in the trench coat gives the tall one a brief shoulder massage while he pays for a quart of organic pink ladies and then turns to you and asks “are there any good vegan restaurants around here? my husband doesn’t eat meat”
saintsurvivors reblogged
- E. Y. Harburg
(insp)
samcas + ''hey, look at me. focus on me alright?"
No. 23 “Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?”
@bitrek we’re delicate and soft in this chili’s tonight
(this also perhaps became settled in my atrophy series)
Castiel sleeps, not often, but enough that it takes them the longest time to realize what has awoken them. The flickering neon sign declaring that the Red River Motel has VACANCIES even as a soft whispering sound settles across the quiet of the motel room.
They rolls over, ruffling the slightly askew feathers of their wings, that pass vaguely through the incorporeal walls, feeling how their vessel shifts just a moment behind them, as if the pause button has been pressed on a human remote. Sam has taken to teaching them human idioms and the like, and though Castiel has taken to them almost like a duck to water, they has trouble, often times when they’ve woken and Jimmy is a half formed ghost at the very back of their mind.
There is the whimper again, a quiet, vulnerable that tugs at something deep inside of Castiel’s vessel, has the heart beating quickly, pulse racing in their throat. Outside of their vessel, twin needles that humans call claws stretch out; there is no danger, only a too thin man settling beside them, asleep and hurt, quiet as if he thinks his hurt as no place in this room they have made a haven for themselves.
“Samuel,” Castiel says quietly, hovers a hand and a distantly shaking paw over his back, feels the way their human shakes, curled up tight and rigid against the bed spread. The moon is a barely there shaft of light that falls across Samuel’s chest, just missing the way his face is twisting, mouth open in a grimace, that hurt noise escaping again. “Samuel.”
A hint of thunder, the foundations shaking faintly in the distance. Samuel awakens with a stifled scream stuck in the clutch of his throat, eyes wide and golden green as the moonlight hits upon his face. He is wide eyed, pale faced, he is shaking and Castiel is, to their human roots, terrified in a way they have never felt before.
“Samuel, look at me, focus on me, Samuel,” Castiel commands, still that faint hint of thunder, that faint crack of lightening; grace curls beneath their borrowed skin and Castiel feels their body phase half to another dimension that they wishes t hey could let Samuel see, surrounding him, protecting him. their naked wings touch upon the back of Samuel’s neck, where his shirt has slipped and his vulnerable flesh has goose pimpled up. Samuel turns wide, almost shellshocked eyes to Castiel, and Castiel reaches out, a human hand touching upon the heave of his trembling chest. “You are safe, Samuel, whatever haunts you cannot hurt you here.”
Samuel simply stares at them, eyes wide, vulnerable, almost innocent, as if Castiel has not seen this man drain a full human of their blood, has not cleaned the blood from his mouth themselves. Perhaps, it always comes back to blood, blood and human fault. Perhaps that is why Castiel loves them so sincerely. Samuel simply looks upon them, and when he falls forward, shaking, trembling, a thready string of latin falling from his unbloodied mouth, Castiel simply gathers him against their form and curls their needles against the prayer he can feel forming.
saintsurvivors reblogged
I haven’t followed spn for 5-6 years, and haven’t been in any fandom for almost twice as much, but hoooo boy did all this nonsence suck me in.
so here’s a picture of our dear queer angel with too much heart (and he will always be loved in all the languages)
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motelcrucifix-deactivated202103
unfathomable love
Castiel watches Sam as she does what she calls “crunches” on a “yoga mat” that is simply a purple sheet of rubber on the floor of their shared room.
“I have never cared for matters of the flesh, Sam.” Castiel says suddenly, and watches as Sam tilts her head in question.
“But when I look at you, here, I find that I enjoy it. Simply being in your company brings me immeasurable joy.” Castiel finishes speaking and watches as Sam’s face lights up, her eyes brightening as she got up from her mat.
“Cas, you say the sweetest things without even meaning to don’t you? Castiel smiles back, feeling her eyes crinkle as Sam sat next to her on the bed, dipping the comforter to accommodate them both. Sam leaned her head against Castiel’s shoulder, the weight of it comfortable and warm.
Castiel could sit like this for eons. Has sat for eons before, but has never been truly content with it. She has had many bodies, many forms, has seen the rise and fall of empires and the beauty of humanity in the depths of its darkest hours. Nothing, none of it, compares to the softness, the warmth she feels now.
The air tingles with Castiel’s grace, a happy hum fills the room and makes Sam shiver and glance over to Castiel. She smiles a little and gives a quick peck to Castiel’s cheek.
Sam, after a few more moments, gets up and goes back to her workout, now performing “to failure push-ups” that leave her sweaty and smiling.
Castiel can’t help but think Sam is a strange creature, absolutely selfless in all ways, and so lovable, so, so soulful. The words that come to her head hardly speak to how she feels. Hardly even resemble how much love fills Castiel’s bones and veins and heart for this woman.
Castiel leans back on to the bed and watches Sam, truly overwhelmed with unfathomable love.
( @benevolentsam )
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incorrectsastiel
Sam: Go big or go home!
Cas, wtih tears in his eyes: I am begging you, Sam. For once in your life, go home. Please. Just this once. Go home.
Sam, whispering: I’m going big.
Real footage of Sam about to shoot God
saintsurvivors reblogged
“Look at me, Sam,” Castiel asks, this tender breaking thing. Sam shudders, tucks his chin even closer to his chest, his knees press closer to his torso, hands making bruises on his biceps. He feels like he’s been hollowed out, this empty vessel, full of regrets and apologies.
“Look at me, Sam,” Castiel says, something lingering in his voice, in his tone, that makes Sam start, sheet-lighting grazing his skin lightly. Tender fingers grip beneath his chin, stroke lightly at the fine line of his jawbone.
Castiel gently tilts his head up and to the side, and Sam can see the reflection of the stars in Castiel’s undying eyes, the way the moonlight spills over his throat, his shoulders, the tan trench coat bleached white in the pale moonlight. Castiel’s fingers are rough, calloused things against his skin and they burn like a dying wildfire wherever they touch.
[ excerpt from atrophy, chapter 2 “erasure” by @svstiels ]
happy (belated) birthday @svstiels ! i just wanted to give back a little for the enjoyment that i get from your wonderful writing (and it also doubles as a bday present lol)
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deactivated-blog
saintsurvivors reblogged
stardustsam-deactivated20201203
I spoke to God today and she said that she’s ashamed I spoke to the devil today and he swears he’s not to blame And I understood ‘cause I feel the same
@spnonewordbingo | @stardustsam ↳ Prompt: Castiel + free space
Source: stardustsam
