the picture prompt meme.

[acrobatically]

the picture prompt meme

comment with your character. others will leave a picture (or two, or three...) reply to them with a setting based on the picture. link to any pictures that are NSFW, please. be aware that this meme will likely be image-heavy. that's kind of the point. link to an image: <a href=IMAGEURL>TEXT</a> embed an image in your reply: <img src=IMAGEURL> control width and height of your pictures: <img src=IMAGEURL width=500><br />OR<br /><img src=IMAGEURL height=INSERT>

Comments

[guzzles]

[ That was definitely a promise, although Sam...hesitated with it. Something like that put a lot of the onus on him not to let Castiel down in return, never make him question his own word. Sam liked to think he could handle that, but being brothers, being a good person, hadn't stopped him from betraying Dean either--it just didn't work like that, even if it was a nice idea in general.

But Castiel looked so earnest when he said it, that Sam took his hand in his own, and squeezed it reassuringly, eyes crinkling as he smiled sadly down at him. ]

I appreciate that. [ He said, softly, because Castiel was stoned out of his mind anyway, and there was no point with arguing with him about it now, or ever. ] Thank you, Cas.

[ He didn't quite know how to break away, but Castiel looked so pitiful, so helpless, that Sam removed himself very slowly, fetching out first one box and then another from under Dean's bed until he pulled out his brother's own first aid kit. Inside, there were stick on bandages that would do just fine so long as Castiel didn't move so much while he slept. As he raised his head with his prize a moment later, Sam looked over the beaten angel once more, grimacing. The blood from his pants was still leaving a mess on the sheets, despite all his efforts. They'd have to come off, or Cas would have a hell of a time in the morning. But that could wait until he was in a morphine coma, and Sam didn't have to actively go out of his way to either embarrass him--or, much more likely, humiliate himself. ]

Just rest [ He insisted, applying the bandage carefully. ] Anything else you want to talk about can wait till the morning.

[heavenonearth]

[ that's good enough for him.

castiel hums his assent and drops his hand to the sheets again, content enough with sam's answer and subsequent request to rest. truth be told he doesn't have it in him to debate much longer anyway, and now that he's thanked sam for his help as best as he can he's willing to let the drugs and fatigue work away at him. considering it's a struggle to even keep his eyes open at this point, he's glad to let the matter drop.

so without another word castiel exhales, long and slow, and shuts his eyes. it feels like only moments before the darkness behind his eyelids is consuming him, and with his body and limbs sinking heavily into the mattress castiel falls easily into unconsciousness. he can be thankful at least, that angels do not dream, and for a blessed handful of hours he won't need to feel or worry or think about anything - not dean's loss or sam's sad smile or the blood of angels on his blade and hands, nothing at all past sweet, black oblivion. ]