#sacrosxnct

[perditioner]

"everyone has to make sacrifices, dean." nestles into the dean. snugs shoulder. ...purrs. - sacrosxnct

            ‘ because you’re making SUCH a sacrifice right now — ’

    and despite the borderline abuse on his arm, dean still looks at castiel     with a certain type of wonder dancing in the flecks of his eyes. with an     angel’s ear resting on your heartbeat and a wing draped over you like     a blanket, it’s not difficult to relax.

            ‘ are you an ANGEL or a CAT ? i’m findin’ it hard to tell. ’

[perditioner]

i tell myself i’ve moved on. i look in the mirror and say to myself, they are no longer a part of your life. you must learn to let go. and so i do. and it’s tough and it’s hard and i struggle, but i learn to live without them. and life goes on. and i forget.

and then jon leaves a DUMB MESSAGE IN MY INBOX AND I KNOW IT’S NOT OVER IT’LL NEVER BE OVER

[perditioner]

i dare you to kiss sacrosxnct riGHT ON THE FACE

Send “I dare you to kiss…” with a url/name and my muse will have to kiss that person on the lips.

    his lips part wordlessly at the mere idea. there is no reality, no possibility in which    this would be acceptable — he couldn’t bare his throat in such a vulnerable manner     only to have it slit open by his friend’s rejection. 

    however, a dare is a dare and he cannot back away.

    it is only when he prepares for sleep that the moment arrives. castiel sits on the edge    of the bed, placing the lion, the witch and the wardrobe carefully on the bedside table    and shrugging his trench coat from his shoulders. dean’s breath holds the sharp tang    of liquor as he approaches, but it is only dutch courage allowing him to take the final     step and wrap his fingers around his friend’s omnipresent tie, tug forward, and press     their lips together.

    the kiss is a brief one, but he stays where he is for a moment, breath mingling with the    angel’s where he leans up and dean leans down. their eyes catch and stare for a short    moment before castiel raises his hand and presses two fingers to dean’s forehead.

    the vibrating intoxication of his chosen evening drink dissipates, and a voice rumbles,    ‘ if we are to do this, we are to do it unpoisoned. ’

[perditioner]

✿ -- sacrosxnct [ WHY AM I ALWAYS SPAMMING YOU WITH MEMES I STILL HAVE LIKE 20 THINGS TO REPLY TO FOR YOU ]

send me a ✿ and i’ll generate a number                                              2: all over kiss

    dean wakes to a pair of lips on his, much as snow white or sleeping beauty did.    his own prince is very different to theirs, though: a somewhat-disheveled mop of     dark hair perches atop his head sticking in all directions, framed with majestic    wings that stretch out widely on either side of him. one of his legs is thrown over    dean’s body, allowing the angel to effectively straddle him. the kiss breaks, and     two icy eyes stare down at him with a rumbled, “good morning.”

    “couldn’t wait until i was actually awake, cas?” is dean’s automatic reply, a grin    tugging at his own lips. “you know, when i can kiss back?”

    castiel merely shrugs to this, leaning down to this time press his lips against the    human’s throat. it’s deliberate, calculated. after a moment, this gives way to the    more frantic, open-mouthed kisses that take their place. dean goes to comment    but the angel catches his eye, tongue trailing over ribs and then lower.

    “what’s all this about?” dean asks, moving to sit up before castiel raises his hand    and places it firm on his chest, pushing him down into the bed. dean only takes a    moment to curse superhuman strength before he can reap the benefits.

    “i am in love with you,” he replies, and it’s so earnest that dean squirms slightly    under his scrutiny. “that is all of you. if i am to love every part of you, should i not    demonstrate it?”

    dean has no chance to comment as cas’ kisses return to dean’s mouth from where    they were previously, on his stomach. it is a simple and chaste one, yet it leaves    him speechless. castiel soon moves away to graze his teeth over the pale skin of      the inside of dean’s wrist, directly over his pulse. goosebumps erupt across both     his arms at the sensation. dean remains speechless.

    wrist, palm, fingertip moves back up to collarbone, nipple, chest. dean realises he    is being worshipped.

    the thought creates a lump in his throat and slightly blurred vision, his eyes closed    to prevent tears escaping. he does not deserve this care. he does not deserve this     love, this attention, this careful delicacy with which the angel curls his fingers round    dean’s bicep as he leans down to press feather light kisses on his fluttering eyelids.

    no tears escape, but when castiel murmurs a prayer against dean’s jaw, when his    knuckles run along the insides of his thighs and his wings curl around them to hide    them from the world, dean wonders if the angel understands what is running through    his mind. he wonders if castiel realises that when he whispers that he loves him,    dean simply nods, not because he doesn’t want to say it back, but because he can’t.

[heavenraiiser]

sacrosxnct​

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."

Despite how it may otherwise seem, he had missed the angel version of himself. Though he'd never tell him that. No. He'd rather play it up as indifference, deny that he'd missed him at all when the truth was that the mere sight of the other made his meatsuit's heart skip a beat.

So no. He hadn't missed him at all. Not even a little bit.

"Where've you been hiding at, angel?"

[perditioner]

" Well. This isn't how it was supposed to end between us." -- sacrosxnct

angst starter masterlist

    dean wants to throw up. actually, he doesn’t want to, but the nausea    stirring in his stomach makes him feel as though he might. castiel    is leaving, and it’s real, and he may never see him again ————    and he’s royally screwed up the last few days they had together to    try and protect himself from the inevitable.

    he only understands what a ridiculous decision that was when he’s    faced with actually saying goodbye.

    something rattles him then, and he steps forward to hug the angel,    but he can’t because he can’t touch him. his own rules bite back.    his heart hammers in his ribcage, the clock on the wall taking cas     away second by second. they only have a couple of minutes left.

    he tries to talk, but every started sentence trails into nothing. he    has no real words left.

        i was ——            i couldn’t ——                god, cas, you ——

    frustrated, his fists clench, angry at the stone in his throat and even    angrier at all the time he’s wasted — the time they could have spent    together.

            ‘ i’m sorry i screwed up.              i didn’t want you to go. ’

[perditioner]

a drabble of my character admitting they love yours. ---- sacrosxnct

    the admittance is not a noble one. it does not belong to flickering     candlelight and kneeling proposals, the perfect tape in the stereo     and gentle clasping of hands. it also does not belong to the frantic     push of a last goodbye, the adrenaline of finality pumping through     veins. no -- it belongs to the bottom of a liquor bottle, desperate     unshed tears and a fear built on naught but the unknown path that     stretches ahead.

    love never came easy for dean winchester. the stifling drag of a     laborious life and the tether of his father's expectations left dean     with a heart devoted to helping others and a mind determined to     never taint them with his own involvement. consequentially, any     relationships that he succeeded in starting, he failed in continuing.     he was a protector, not a lover.

    he stares at castiel now, his grip on the tinted bottle whitening his     knuckles, and he begins to understand what it means to be both.

    a crease forms in between the angel's eyebrows; dean has seen it     before, and he knows a concerned lecture will follow. castiel only     found him here moments ago, sprawled on the floor with his back     to the couch. dean watches him lower himself down now, one knee     pressed against wooden floorboards to align himself with dean.

    ‘ you're drunk. ’

    the words are short but laced with fear. dean understands what the     alcohol means to castiel: it is a poison, and far more worryingly, a     poison that dean happily indulges in when the day grows rough. he     has questioned many times why dean leads himself into such self-     destruction, but he does not ask now.

    the angel bends forward, his face tantalizingly close to dean's, his     lips parted to speak again. when he eventually does, it is only for     repetition. ‘ you're drunk. ’

    shadowy feathers bristle, a language dean cannot yet speak, as the     human wraps his fingers around the stupid blue tie that hangs from     castiel's neck and yanks him forward. with cheek pressed to cheek,     castiel having lost balance and pressing his palms against dean's     chest, small words are whispered between them.

    ‘ no, dumbass. i'm in love. ’

    a bitter laugh escapes his lips. he tries to push castiel away, but all     strength fails, and he instead tugs him closer. he has just damned     himself, but hell will be worth it.