- to atone.

an independent Castiel roleplay blog from Supernatural.

[shawnnhunter]

[watchfulangel]

su·i·cid·al  /ˌso͞oiˈsīdl/

Deeply unhappy or depressed and likely to commit suicide.

Relating to or likely to lead to suicide.

[sambecket-archive]

[tornxfrayed-deactivated20130326]

repent, as you always do, graceful sinner. pray to your father.

[castiel-sherlock-watson]

by goobo

[boobsinger]

Even if I fall, if you become my wings I can fly forever

[angelshawke]

[watchfulangel]

I'm writing a lyrics musing, and I went to Youtube to listen to the song. I turned the sound on and music was already playing. I thought it was Spotify playing--it wasn't. I thought it was iTunes--iTunes wasn't open. I thought maybe it was Youtube--the video wasn't playing. I couldn't find where it was coming from. In distress, I screamed out "HeeeLP ME!" to my sister. Then I found it. It was your music. Anyway, your playlist is A list (See what I did there? It... it rhymed. Hah.)

[ Stop being adorable this instant it's illegal wow you criminal.

--I'm glad to hear that my playlist has yet again fucked with someone's mind. Because other than giving feels, that's it's main purpose.

I even added a song named "Samandriel" after seeing an audio post that tore me apart. So. Enjoy being killed with that--oh wait... ]

[samsxcola]

[sterekkiss]

dammit cas he was actually trying to ask you out

[trenchcoatandhalo]

[watchfulangel]

Castiel & Samandriel > 8.10 Torn and Frayed

[nyckistars]

BRING HIM HOME CAS

BRING HIM PEACE

BRING HIM JOY

HE IS YOUNG

HE’S ONLY A BOYYYYY

[watchfulangel]

followyourorders submitted: 

[watchfulangel]

[ get oOUTTT OF MY LIIIIFEEE. ]

[denisvilleneuv]

You’re a hero Castiel.

[watchfulangel]

-- What struck Castiel as odd--when it was all said and done; the fluttering of wings ceased and the blankness settled in--was that he couldn't depict where Deanna was anymore. No, the etchings on her ribs weren't to the point of total closure of her location. He could always tell that she was in existence, in some sort of place that blurred from his reach and sight. But this feeling. This was like a solid wall between him and her, a complete blockade. It made him wonder...if he'd been wrong, if he really wasn't a hero for killing Samandriel--maybe something went wrong. But he couldn't find Deanna to ask her what was going on, why she was using some sort of angel proofing to keep him out. Perhaps asking for her help in finding Samandriel was the last straw, and he'd overstepped. Somehow. That didn't seem right. --

-- Frowning, Castiel unearthed his cellphone, flipping the screen up and on with his thumb before regarding the contacts list with some uncertainty. It wasn't like he could just leave her with questions unanswered, especially when there was obviously an issue regarding angels going on. However, if there was one, then she would have told him about it. Given him a heads up that they were on 'angel lock-down' or the like. But she didn't. Sam didn't. That's where the logic was lost. That's what lit Deanna's number up and selected it to call, and that's what made Castiel squint once before waiting for the rings to cease and either her to pick up or to be prompted for a voicemail. --

[watchfulangel]

” Justified? None of their deaths were justified—I shouldn’t have.. “

— No, no, getting into the shouldn’ts would surely bring him to his knees, a crippling concept of hopelessness that made itself physical. So human, so lost, the idea of falling was becoming very literal. Though, it was the humiliation he deserved. —

[wearethenewmanagement]

he came at you. it was self defense.

she was going to tell everyone about him. she was going to ruin everything.

he betrayed you. he said he was your friend and he betrayed you.

he was going to being lucifer and michael back. 

they worked against you. they worked for the enemy. they had to be punished.

please, castiel. you’re just upset because samandriel wasn’t your idea first.

[watchfulangel]

-- There was nothing he could utter at this point that would even remotely make sense, no thought, not an inkling of an idea existed, and Castiel found himself momentarily winded. A quiet kind of suffering where--it wasn't exactly suffocation but. It was something close, a speechless, soundless sickness that crept into his lungs and up his throat. It was unpleasant. Disgusting. Silent. --

[thecajunthirst]