iniquity is one of the perks

darksilenceinsuburbia:

 Teagan White. Doe-eye.

#castiel crawls over the bodies of his fallen brothers to retreat #he is successful—he has saved the righteous man—but at what cost? #forty years of warring in hell for this ruined thing in his arms #scratching and biting as though castiel is the enemy

(via fragmentsshoredagainstmyruin)

fragmentsshoredagainstmyruin:

#so this is it #this is what #team free will

Something is pulling Sergei in. Something is telling him that this is why he came to the ends of the earth in the first place. This is what he has been waiting for but has been too heartsick to let himself expect.

When he makes his way over the hill, he sees two men clutching each other, huddled on the ground. One man appears to be unconscious, his head leaning against the other’s shoulder. To Sergei’s horror, the unconscious man is wearing only jeans and a light jacket, while the other appears to be wearing just a trenchcoat over a suit. Whoever they are, they’re clearly insane. Are they from Bellingshausen? From the other stations?

“Hey!” he shouts, and runs towards them.

Both men look exhausted. Snow collects on their hair, on their shoulders. The unconscious man’s lips are blue, face stark white, and the other guy doesn’t look much better. The man in the trenchcoat has his right hand behind the other’s neck, keeping him steady, while the left hand is firm against the other’s chest.

“Who are you?” Sergei demands. He’s not even sure they can speak Russian. There are other stations here manned by other countries. He repeats the question again in English, then tries to remember how to ask it in Spanish.

The dark-haired man looks up at him, and Sergei doesn’t expect the force of that gaze. It’s as if he’s drinking in everything that Sergei is and judging his merit. He is reminded of that blast of heat, that light. He resists the urge to fall to his knees.

“I’m an angel of the Lord,” he says, as if he’s daring Sergei to suggest otherwise, and somehow all Sergei can think is of course.

— jaimeykay & twoskeletons, “Without a Map”

AAAAAAAAAUGH RUBATO *______* DID YOU KNOW I ADORE YOU

like

THIIIIIIIIIIIIS MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCH <— objects may appear smaller on the computer screen than it actually is

(via rubato)

myedol:

Deer Shaped Hydro Towers by DesignDepot

angel radio

(via cloud--atlas)

malformalady:

Field filled with a collection of shed antlers

post-godstiel heaven

rubato:

Kulihat bangsa yang terumbang-ambing antara dua dunia:
Bagaikan tercermin diriku sendiri di sana!
Mengejar-ngejar gairah bayangan hari-esok
Memimpikan masasilam yang terasa kian lama kian elok!

— Ajip Rosidi, “Terkenang topeng Cirebon”

❧

I see a people adrift between two worlds:
And I see myself reflected there.
Chasing with passion the shadow of tomorrow
Dreaming of a past which grows more beautiful as it grows more distant.

— Ajip Rosidi, “Memory of a masked dance from Cirebon”
(trans. by Harry Aveling)

And when Castiel envessels her, she does not hear the angels speak, but sees them instead: dark figures shrouded by a celestial mist.

(Source: thoroughfares)

rubato:

nevver:

Stiknord

The demon Crowley is making a deal; as we speak, it’s—going down.

saltfree:

#I wonder if the nonfandom part of tumblr ever gets pissed at the supernatural fans #like godammit they found my picture of nature and added another fucking tag story about this destiel guy whoever that is

HOLY CRAP 339 NOTES

IT’S A THINGSTIEL REVOLUTION

(Source: dickromans)

Clairecest

(Source: hayleymelliott, via liminalzone)

thecravinglife:

Some fishing stories are a little hard to believe, But this guy has pictures to prove his story…

Tom Satre told the Sitka Gazette that he was out with a charter group on his 62-foot fishing vessel when four juvenile black-tailed deer swam directly toward his boat.
“Once the deer reached the boat, the four began to circle the boat, looking directly at us. We could tell right away that the young bucks were distressed.

I opened up my back gate and we helped the typically skittish and absolutely wild animals onto the boat. In all my years fishing, I’ve never seen anything quite like it!

“Once on-board, they collapsed with exhaustion, shivering. We headed for Taku Harbour. Once we reached the dock, the first 
buck that we had been pulled from the water hopped onto the dock, looked back as if to say ‘thank you’ and disappeared into the forest.”

After a bit of prodding and assistance, two more followed, but the smallest deer needed a little more help (that’s him in the wheelbarrow).

My daughter, Anna, and son, Tim, helped the last buck to its feet. We didn’t know how long they had been in the icy waters or if there had been others who did not survive. My daughter later told me that the experience was something that she would never forget, and I suspect the deer felt the same way as well!”

From: Second Chance Ranch

liminalzone:

scurtisillustration:

This is for my project, deconstruction of the body. Its a real, whole, skeleton that used to belong to a deer.

ATTN: LASS

Claire is meticulous.

victoriousvocabulary:

PHYLLOMANIA

[noun]

the production of leaves in abnormal numbers or places.

“My daughter has what?”

theoriginaljoefisher:

(via Myeongbeom Kim)

My belief amounts to nothing—theirs to quite something
Down the mountain come the deer—I look at the deer
They at the mountain

I believe in scarcely a single thing, if anything in mankind
They trust in nearly everything, but never humankind

They look at the mountain—while I look beyond it

The deer go down the mountainside
Beyond the mountain

- ‘before the mountain beyond the mountain’ by ferit edgu

(via zempasuchil)

She has found several of his kind, but he eludes her.

(via wecollectbonesandloveit)

animalstalkinginallcaps:

OH, HEY. DIDN’T MEAN TO STARTLE YOU. WE HEARD YOU PLAYING THAT FLORENCE + THE MACHINE RECORD IN YOUR TENT.

CAN WE JUST HANG OUT AND LISTEN TO IT? WE’LL BE SUPER QUIET. WE’RE JUST REALLY BIG FANS OF HER WORK. 

(via beenworkingonacocktail)