shieldeus replied to your post: "#and nah it does NOT count if the character is...
and when there’s a character whose canon actor is not conventionally attractive they go for an ‘alt fc’ - usually a white male supermodel nnngh
THERE IT IS
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shieldeus replied to your post: "#and nah it does NOT count if the character is...
and when there’s a character whose canon actor is not conventionally attractive they go for an ‘alt fc’ - usually a white male supermodel nnngh
THERE IT IS
why are you so angry at god? ( :/ )
TYRANNOSAUR PROMPTS ⨠ ACCEPTING .
here , settled beneath daylight ’ s watchful rays , dean feels uncomfortably EXPOSED . castiel ’ s gaze slices into him like a razor , carving through flesh and muscle to run its cold , keen edge against the truth which hunkers beneath . and yet . . . incredulity surges as a tide within his breast , his throat ; he wonders how a creature weathered by billions of years ’ passage can be so blind . above them , birds chatter their sharp , tittering melody , unconcerned with the anger and disquiet which thickens the air beneath them . dean ’ s brow raises , borne up by the force of his disbelief . he shakes his head slowly , as though some ANSWER can be found in the small motion , and a mirthless laugh froths at curled lips . still castiel does not rescind his attention ; the angel ’ s head cants to one side in a familiarly awkward , unearthly pose , blue eyes squinted as though to ward off an excess of light .
dean ’ s head lifts , a hard sun cresting over some tumultuous swell . his green eyes are talons which sink their honed points into castiel ’ s earthly form ; barely - bottled emotion drives them deep . when he finally speaks , his voice is brittle with disbelief . “ you seriously gotta ask me that ? ” across the expanse of sparse , depressed grass , a child ’ s dulcet giggle curls toward the sky , a father ’ s deeper tones joining in grounded harmony .
“ after EVERYTHING you ’ ve seen , EVERYTHING you ’ ve been through . ” everything i ’ ve been through . he thinks of titian flames , of smoke belching from shattered windows . the weight of sam ’ s lifeless body between his arms , the burgundy stain of demon blood smeared over mouth and jaw . he thinks of forty years of torment , of scars that wrap thick and corded around his soul . of all the innocent souls he wasn ’ t strong enough to save . he imagines billions of years played to this discordant tune , billions upon billions of souls crushed and broken beneath the watchful eye of castiel ’ s god .
“ i think the real question , cas , is WHY AREN ’ T YOU ? ”
@shieldeus. / 𝐒𝐂.
it wasn’t particularly uncommon for visitors to worm their way into the back tents after a performance. some bribed the circus workers into turning a blind eye, others just tried their luck at sneaking past unnoticed, but whatever their methods happened to be, most of them didn’t stay long. a monster up on stage was a little less unsettling than a monster up close and personal — for the most part, as soon as the unwelcome visitors took one good look at the being, they tended to turn tail and scamper right back out the way they came.
the telltale sound of crunching footsteps at the entrance tonight did not do much to improve the being’s already-foul mood. he knew the footfalls of the circus folk well enough to know this wasn’t one of them. without rising from his chair and without turning his head, he called out flatly, “ you’ve paid for a show, and you’ve had it. you’ll get nothing more. ”
@shieldeus / sc .
a rift has opened between them . even that word feels TOO SMALL to encompass this great divide ; there has always been a rift between them , for never has humanity and heaven stood on the same plane ( in eden , perhaps , but any hope for paradise on earth has long since been vanquished ) . BUT THIS IS DIFFERENT . it ’ s yawning darkness , like the jaws of some great beast , like the sharp edge of an endless abyss . castiel feels strange and distant , crackling with a once - familiar electricity that feels wrong somehow . it vibrates in dean ’ s marrow , teeth - rattling and ominous .
he takes a step forward , hands raised in a PARODY OF SURRENDER , face marred with deep - set concern . uneasiness churns in his stomach , but he holds his ground , because this is cas . this is cas , and something isn ’ t right . dean ’ s boots fall heavy on the wooden floorboards , which groan in protest under this new weight . there ’ s a similar groaning deep in dean ’ s soul , a desperation that digs its claws deep into the lining of his stomach . “ CAS . come on , man , you gotta talk to me . the hell ’ s goin ’ on with you ? is it raphael ? ”
SPOTIFY TOP SONGS MEME ⨠ ACCEPTING .
dean ’ s bones have liquified inside him . he feels unsteady , UNMOORED , as though the solid earth beneath his feet has dissipated and left him falling , like he is alice on her ceaseless descent into wonderland . only there is no light at the end of the tunnel , just pitch black . above them , the sun hums bright and warm , smiling down with blissful ignorance upon the inner turmoil that gnaws like a parasite at the lining of dean ’ s stomach , the curve of his intestines . “ everything ’ ll be alright ? ” the words ring thick with DISBELIEF . a near - imperceptible waver graces the low , unsteady tones of his voice , and his soul trembles within him .
green eyes latch onto castiel with all the desperation of a man cast adrift . he clutches for a lifeline , the knowledge of his own WEAKNESS hanging on his body like dead weight . shoulders hunch as though to ward off an icy wind . “ you know that ⎼⎼⎼ ” his jaw clamps down , an iron wall slicing off the unsteady end of his sentence , and he looks away . dean bares clenched teeth , his lips a curled frame around them , BUT IT ’ S NO USE . his soul is laid plain to castiel , his failings carved into each atom , each molecule . and none of the angel ’ s pretty words can make him whole again . “ c ’ mon . ”
@shieldeus ⨠ get right church
@shieldeus | “I can take your problems away with a nod and a wave of my hand.” | sam
absurdly, it’s the first thing that’s made sam smile all day. perhaps it’s the blatant way castiel says it. as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. it’s almost endearing, if sam thinks about it. it’s also -- sweet. not in a way he thinks castiel is engaging with intentionally, it just...is.
still, it takes him a moment to find the words to answer, and when he does, he’s not sure it’s the right one. it’s the only one he’s got, though. ❛ that’s not your job, cas. ❜ it’s soft, and gentle, and sam’s fingers curl on the linoleum motel table. there’s bandages around both of them, covering cut palms and bruised knuckles, pricked fingertips. all the blood shed lately seems to be his. ❛ but if you could...stay? if you could be here...that would be just as good, i think. ❜
starter for @shieldeus
❝ just what is it you think i did? ❞
❝It’s not who, it’s what. Exclusively what is just.❞
And therefore unavoidably objective, many have said, of which the overperforming demographic were all nihilists who sometimes didn’t know they were nihilists.
❝To us.❞
He’s comfortable enough to say so. His guest is... clean. Different than boring, certainly. Nicky feels matched in an unspeakable way. Not like with Joe. And with Joe, it isn’t like this. Maybe it couldn’t be.
He has no intention to bristle at it, but he can’t promise anything if he’s goaded well.
❝I see how that must sound vain. I agree.❞
So if fear of slip-ups is a rope, the hands would forever be arrested. And that is a load of nonsense he couldn’t get behind, even considering how much practice Booker’s very existence has thrust on him.
His turn.
Castiel. What a very interesting name. Oddly biblical, some might say.
❝When were you born?❞
Nicky angles over and into his host role. For the French press—the irony of which isn’t lost on his inward as if—so he can hover it over Castiel’s cup.
Coffee?
@shieldeus * from.