(no subject)

Red Carnation by kingaidey (совсем свежий фик, между прочим) - сэстиэль, 4 сезон, Blood Drinking, Suicidal Thoughts.
Тот случай, когда рейтинга нет и не надо, всё и так уже очень хорошо)

“You were praying," Castiel added, "I believe unintentionally.”

Sam’s lips drew thin. He nodded, hands retreating into fists.


“Your cries for purity are...unignorable. You wail.”


“I don’t know what to do.” He felt as if he had been caged inside a confession box with Castiel on the other side. “I don’t…” Sam repeated to the floor. Something in Cas' eyes was too strong, like breathing in fog.


The angel, soldier of God, should have been shorter than Sam yet he gave the impression of his grace towering over Sam. Angels made the room go stale with ancient power. It made Sam feel tiny, insignificant. He secretly enjoyed that, because it felt like he was any other puny bug. He could pretend in the silence that he was anybody else.


“You’ll take retribution above death?”


Keep the vessels alive. The angel’s single goal. Sam nodded, nonetheless.


Castiel strided closer to Sam, leaving a mere 3 or 4 inches between them before stopping.


“Kneel.”


And Sam did.

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(no subject)

A First Grasp by Fae-and-night (goodgirlgonegeek16) - сэстиэль, альтернативный финал 5.03.

When Castiel pulled away, the contemplative look was back on his face; the inquisitive tilt of his head directly contrasted the blankness Sam’s own mind currently felt.

“I- what-?”

“I wanted to comfort you, Sam. A woman whom Dean assured me was very knowledgeable out these things told me that kissing is something that relaxes humans. Do you feel any more at ease?” When a gaping mouth and wide eyes were Sam’s only responses, Castiel frowned again. “Perhaps I didn’t do it correctly.”


Sam finally found his tongue.

“Cas, you- you just kissed me! On the mouth!”
The frown deepened.

“Would you have preferred somewhere else?”

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Sapphire by sp8ce - сэстиэль, херт/комфорт, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Cage Trauma и прочие мои любимые теги)
Настолько красивый текст, что я в кои-то веки не знаю, какие именно строчки цитировать. Ну, пусть будет завязка: 

He just wants to be purified. That’s what he’s thinking. That’s what he’s thinking when he asks Cas for a vial of his blood. He just wants to be purified.
He knows it’s not all that simple. He can’t unfuck Ruby or get rid of the cravings he has to this day. He can’t unstart the Apocalypse, just halt it and pay the price. He can’t unbeg Lucifer, unencapsulate what that means or the way it pricks across his skin, can’t undo the undulating fire every time the stress chokes him out. It’s all layered and there’s no way to weave all the strands together in his head to ever express how fucked up he is.
But, can he change his blood? Can he just feel clean, now? Is it the only moral thing to try to do?
So he asks Cas for a vial of his blood. And it’s not until Cas agrees without hesitation that Sam realises that maybe he wanted Cas to deny him.

Ладно, вот это еще, потому что на этом месте я внутренне завопила))

He moves to close the space between them again, about to kiss Sam, but Sam didn’t expect him and recoils. He catches himself, however, and kisses Cas fast, chastely, because he can’t stand more right now, but also he can’t deny himself the chance.


“I want to pull your hair,” Cas says, and it’s really left field for Sam, who’s getting whiplash.


“Gently?” he says. Cas nods, and when he puts his hands through Sam’s hair, he’s feather-light, besides a gentle tug and a kiss on Sam’s nose.

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