Each human soul is carefully molded from raw clay into a beautiful vase or solid plate or detailed sculpture before ever the human whose soul it will be is conceived. Genetics apply the glaze, and life experiences supply the kiln fire and put the soul to use or display.
Very few of these works of art survive life unscathed. It breaks his heart every time to sweep up the pieces.
I really enjoy asexual angelfic; in Supernatural, Dean/Castiel is a favorite. What's extra cool is that angels have so little experience with Earth and everyday life, there's a lot of literary impact just introducing them to ordinary intimacies in extraordinary ways. All the tiny ways that people take care of someone they love, that don't necessarily have to be about fucking.
Gordon Walker really should have stayed clear of Dean. Gordon came out worse off, but that doesn't mean Dean's in peak condition. Dean limps to the relative safety of a cave: walls to three sides and an easily defensible opening, assuming Dean can stay awake that long.
Castiel'd fucked off again before Gordon turned up. Be nice if Castiel would come back.
Dean slips into an uneasy sleep.
like a wheel, gonna spin it, nobody's gonna mess me around
Dean wakes slowly; something's wrong.
hey Satan, paid my dues, playing in a rocking band
That's what it is. Music. There hasn't been music outside his head in...ages.
hey Mama, look at me, on my way to the Promised Land
"Dean?" says Castiel.
"Hey," Dean says. "You're back."
"I brought music," Castiel says. "I thought you'd like it."
multiple-choice prompt!
Dead angels (any/all) -- Eve was their Mother too
God!Chuck -- loving the sparrows
Sam -- Alone never ends well
Re: multiple-choice prompt!
Very few of these works of art survive life unscathed. It breaks his heart every time to sweep up the pieces.
Re: multiple-choice prompt!
Re: multiple-choice prompt!
Well...
Re: Well...
spoilers for 7x23
Castiel'd fucked off again before Gordon turned up. Be nice if Castiel would come back.
Dean slips into an uneasy sleep.
like a wheel, gonna spin it, nobody's gonna mess me around
Dean wakes slowly; something's wrong.
hey Satan, paid my dues, playing in a rocking band
That's what it is. Music. There hasn't been music outside his head in...ages.
hey Mama, look at me, on my way to the Promised Land
"Dean?" says Castiel.
"Hey," Dean says. "You're back."
"I brought music," Castiel says. "I thought you'd like it."
"Nice and homelike," Dean says. "Thanks."