qapsiel

[qapsiel]

@bloodsalted @lasthymn PLS

14.14 Ouroboros

#(Cas would have totally been in a non-sport nerdy club and we all know it) #(don't be like that Dean U are the jockey that fell in love with the nerd) #(this is high school movie shit) #( dean & castiel )

[qapsiel]

@fellandfeathers I'd watch this

the most important video you are gonna watch this month 🏳️‍🌈 (click for HQ; ask to be added to tag list!)

#( face ) #( art )

[qapsiel]

                             CASTIEL HAS ALWAYS CONSIDERED JIMMY NOVAK TO BE QUITE AN ORDINARY MAN WITH AN ORDINARY FACE. He'd had other vessels over the years with much more impressive facial features or artful body paint, like Sai, the Nubian woman he'd used during the Exodus. To hear that others deemed Jimmy's face interesting… Well. It's his face now, in a way. He's the only one occupying this body, which has never happened before (or to any other angel, as far as he knows). It's complicated; Castiel doesn't want to think about it in detail.

                             He sits across from Caffrey, hands loosely on his thighs. His thoughts are immediately with his unloved brother when Caffrey mentions Raphael, but then he remembers a somewhat famous painter sharing the name of the archangel. He's not particularly into art; he likes poems (though only if they rhyme), and he has a certain appreciation for music, but he is and has always been a soldier, not a muse. "I see," he says with a nod. If that painting is really worth a lot of money, the Shapeshifter might want to get its hands on it, especially since it's going to be easier to steal in a private exhibit. "Do you know the date and location of that private party? And who will have the easiest access to the painting?" That's probably the persona the shapeshifter will turn into.

He's so absorbed in his drawing that it doesn't register to Neal that the 'agent' has come up to his table. Looking up from the sketch, Neal pastes a charming smile on his face. He has nothing to be embarrassed by, drawing a picture of the other man. He's never been ashamed of his art.

"You have an interesting face," he says honestly, putting the drawing pad down on the table. "Please, sit. I'll tell you about what I've learned."

He picks up his coffee and takes a long sip, watching the other man. The trench coat is an interesting choice on this relatively warm spring day, but Neal isn't one to judge, not when he wears thousand dollar suits no matter what the weather is. The suit the other man wears is as loose fitting as Peter's, telling Neal that it was bought off the rack, not tailored, something that lends to the other man not making much money. Neal supposes that whatever con this guy is pulling isn't a very financially beneficial one. Just another odd thing about the other man.

"I've heard rumors of a Raphael painting being unveiled at a private party this Saturday. Anyone who's anyone will want to lay eyes on it. The criminal underground has been loud about it, wondering who will steal it. I figure whoever you're looking for probably wants to get their hands on it. It's priceless."

#ifyoucatchacriminal #ifyoucatchacriminal: neal #( v: bunker stories ) #( queue )

[qapsiel]

yeah I'm obsessed with him (x)

#( face ) #(ISN'T HE CUTE.???)

[qapsiel]

                            HE FEELS BAD THE MOMENT SHE FLINCHES. Usually, humans feel comforted by touch, which is why he opted to place a hand on her shoulder in the first place, but apparently, that has been a mistake. Her cheeks are wet. He has learned that tears are sometimes also a sign of happiness, but he thinks her body language tells him it's something else, though he doesn't know what exactly caused her emotional turmoil. Carefully putting his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, Castiel opts for a (hopefully) encouraging smile. "You're not dead anymore," he tells her very seriously because maybe that's why she's upset. "Don't worry, Dean has been, um — jumpy too when he first came back. It will pass. You're fine, Charlie, and we're very glad you're back. The brothers certainly need you."

@qapsiel said: [ COMFORT ]: the sender, noticing a visibly upset receiver, solemnly moves to their side, and places a hand on their shoulder in an effort to comfort them. (For Charlie)

THE SHOULDER TOUCH    /    ACCEPTING ↷

Charlie  flinches visibly  when she’s touched, but quickly corrects her reaction by pressing her own hand on top of Castiel’s for a second as she turns to look at him.

❝ Hey, Cas, ❞    she says, and hastens to wipe the stray tears off her face with both hands. She laughs, uncomfortable in her vulnerable state, her heart still racing from her startle reaction at him touching her. She’s not afraid of Cas (how could she be? they’re  friends,  and he’s adorable), but she feels like she’s come back twitchier, all wrong. She’s not told any of them what was done to her in Heaven, but she wonders if he knows, being an angel and all.    ❝ Sorry, I’m fine, ❞    she’s quick to defend herself, with another nervous laugh.    ❝ You know. A little jumpy. Guess being dead does that to a person. ❞

#smokedanced #smokedanced: charlie #( v: undetermined )

[qapsiel]

                                CASTIEL DOUBTS THAT, TOO. Mainly because he would have tried to kill Cain before his fall, and if Chuck had been right about this, then Castiel is the only version who ever rebelled so openly and totally. But what does it even matter? They're not in another universe, they are here, and Castiel wouldn't trade that for anything.

                                 "Drive?" he echoes, briefly squinting at the truck before he looks back at Cain. "Why would I need to drive? I have wings." They're way quicker (and decidedly prettier, not that anyone besides other angels could see them). "Dean lets me drive shotgun, though. Unless Sam is with him; then I have to sit in the back." He frowns. "I don't like sitting in the back."

The 'actually' peels Cain's attention away from the truck he just opened and earns Castiel a curious side glance. Multiverse. It's a notion that makes him think for a moment and ultimately frown, the same skepticism creasing his brows. " I wonder if the other Castiels and Cains get along, too. " Then he brushes the idea off with a languid shrug. " Doubtful. " No, he doesn't want to imagine himself running into... well, himself. Pulling the door open, keys drawn from the pocket of his coat does Cain sway his gaze around in a more or less demonstrative manner.

" Well, my work here for the day is done. If you want to stay, by all means... " But instead of getting into the vehicle as initially intended, he stalls. " Did you ever learn to drive? " For some reason, he'd really like to see the angel take the wheel.

#murderdeals #murderdeals: cain #( v: default ) #( dyn: murderdeals (cain) 🐝 no foes. real friends. we ain't even got to pretend )

[qapsiel]

                                "WHAT EVEN IS THE PURPOSE OF A DREAM? Just to make you feel lousy about yourself?" He glowers at his porridge as if it is personally responsible for his bad night, then takes a spoonful because he is hungry and will get nauseous if he doesn't eat anything. Becoming human sucks. "What is the plan for today? More supply runs?" he asks with his mouth full. (Nobody ever taught him table manners, after all.)

Yeah, that tracked. He offered what he hoped was an understanding look before he dipped his head into a short nod. "Yeah-- dreams aren't generally something that make a lot of sense." The comment on humans being wired incorrectly would go ignored, as he didn't think he had the mental capacity to get into that right then.

#alwaysaweapon #( v: endverse )

[qapsiel]

                                CASTIEL FLOPS OFF DEAN'S LAP when the hunter decides to get out of bed and turn off the music and then do something equally stupid, probably. There's no way he's going to let this slide. He will take revenge for being cockblocked. (That's a new word Castiel learned recently and honestly, the word is more than fitting. Penises were definitely stopped from interacting right now, which is a damn shame because Castiel loves orgasms, but the mood is effectively ruined.) 

                                 The song continues with the wipers of the bus go swish, swish, swish, and Castiel grabs Dean's pillow to press it on his ears and try to muffle the horrible noise a little. His sense of hearing is excellent. If he wanted to, he could listen in to a conversation between Sam and Dean from the war room while staying cooped up in Dean's bed, so this racket is actually hurting his ears. And then the absolutely ridiculous lyrics — if Sam decided to put on Beyoncé that loudly? Fine, Castiel gets it. This lady is best enjoyed at an earsplitting volume. But the motor on the bus goes vroom, vroom, vroom? That's absolutely pointless. Why would children enjoy such, for lack of better words, bullshit?

                                  Then, thank the Lord, the music cuts off. Castiel listens to what sounds like Dean breaking something before yelling into the intercom about retaliation. See? Castiel knew this would just fan the flames of this prank war. It needs to fucking stop. His orgasms are at stake here. He spreads his wings and pops up directly behind Dean, pillow still clutched to his body, hair disheveled from where he tried to muffle the noise. "Dean," he says with narrowed eyes. "You will not punish your brother. You will be the bigger man. Even though you are smaller. But you will be bigger in your mature decision to stop this nonsense. Whatever you ordered online, cancel it. Use it for something else. Someone has to stop, and it needs to be you, or this will never end."

seeing castiel's eyeroll? dean loves that freaking expression. granted, there are times when it's vaguely OR OUTRIGHT annoying when it's given to him. mostly when he's trying to prove a point and the angel's stubborn ass is refusing to listen. or finding him annoying. when he's not trying to be annoying. he's just being HIM. but when it comes to times like this? it's adorable and warms dean's heart to see him doing such a human thing knowing full well it's him and sam that he picked it up from more than likely. since they've both got a helluva good eyeroll game. also a perk that comes with the winchester genetics.

"hmmm?" he asks, not quite catching the mutter cause he's distracted elsewhere. but the mention of genitals accompanied by the touch that keeps sending chills up his arm stopping earns a frown etching itself over his mouth. dean looks down at the paused hand, then back at cas. then down. and back. one might say that now he's allowed to openly enjoy those flittering touches that aren't so flittering anymore? he's gotten a little greedy with them. addicted even. and he wants it to continue.

doesn't stop him from chuckling at the honest-to-god's truth behind comparing cas's dick to a smaller size. "you got a point there, cas," his brows shoot up and the chuckle becomes an outright laugh accompanied by the shake of his head and hitch of his shoulders in a shrug. "but i'm rather fond of the size. and. the way your fingers feel.." his voice trails off--a flashback of that sensation ripples through his belly. his laptop's easily put away. he doesn't resist a lick when castiel moves to straddle his lap. a quick gasp thanks to his breath hitching in his throat says he's more than responsive to cas's weight settling there.

how bout you don't think? forest hued eyes drop his stare from cas's blue sky colored irises to the hand gathering up his shirt before pushing under it. "not thinking's good. definitely good." goosebumps start greeting cas's fingertips about halfway up his stomach and continue to ripple across his skin right above where they continue upward. dean meets his gaze again, swallows hard and licks his lips in anticipation--only to have his ears ASSAULTED in a screech and blaring kids music.

"SON OF A BITCH!!!" the scream gets tossed over cas's shoulder in the direction of his bedroom door. annoyance instantly floods his face. flattens out his features and darkens his eyes. he gently nudges cas off his lap and covers his ears as he starts speed walking to the door, yanks it open and stalks out in the direction of the god damn system. by the time he gets there--sam's nowhere in sight and he slams the door open running towards the tape recorder sitting in front of the intercom with the switch flipped ON. fingers desperately turn it off, yank out the tape and GUT IT. spirals of brown black tape fall through the air and cracked plastic hits the floor. dean's voice rings out through the intercom a second later. "sam.. you're a DICK! and this act of TREASON? will not go unpunished!!"

#bloodsalted #( v: bunker stories ) #( dyn: bloodsalted ❤️ It's the beat that my heart skips when I'm with you )

[qapsiel]

                         CASTIEL DOESN'T HAVE A SOUL, so Cain's piercing stare doesn't bother him at all. He just looks back unblinkingly, feeling justified in his earlier sneak peek through the window because this sounds like Cain is, in fact, seeing someone, maybe dating a woman (or a man? They haven't talked about his preferences yet and Castiel doesn't want to presume), or perhaps he's only — what's the saying? Hooking up. Having one-night stands because orgasms are fantastic but he doesn't want the whole love thing. Castiel wants to clear this up when Cain just goes and asks about Dean. The angel immediately deflates like a hot air balloon with a big hole in its bag.

                           Oh well, there's no point in lying. He leans into the cushions, looks down at his beer bottle, and starts picking at the label. "There's nothing between us," he explains. "Well, I do love him, but it's — one-sided. We're just friends." He shrugs. Most days, it's fine; it's not like Castiel can change Dean's feelings (or the lack thereof), and he's still happy he can feel so deeply because that's not taken for granted for an angel. But he dislikes talking about it with others because he always gets the feeling that it's his fault that Dean doesn't feel the same, that Castiel is somehow — lacking something, and that this absence of whatever is the sole reason he's unlovable. 

Castiel might have a point. Nonetheless, one as stubborn as Cain won't be persuaded by some mortal when he's already made his decision. So forgive him the doubting upturn of one brow in tandem with a vaguely humorous counterargument: " I'd say that's a you problem then. " Why the angel insists on Cain finding a romantic partner is beyond him, either way. What'd it change for Castiel? He truly doesn't have to care. But here they are, the angel pinning his friend under this stare and pressing the matter.

" There's no such thing like a checklist. " The information drops flat, something he's learned throughout this long life— you can't prepare for the moment you meet that person. Might likely toss all expectations overboard in a heartbeat. " And that you haven't caught me seeing someone doesn't mean it isn't happening, you know. " Now it's Cain's turn to glean Castiel's features with the same scrutiny most would describe as piercing; as an attempt to burn through flesh and bone to see right into the soul.

" By the way ", accompanies a subtle tilt of his head to one side. " What unspoken thing has been brewing between you and Dean... How is it going? " And the tables turn.

#murderdeals #murderdeals: cain #(now you made it sad ava) #( v: default ) #( dyn: murderdeals (cain) 🐝 no foes. real friends. we ain't even got to pretend )

[qapsiel]

                             IT SEEMS NOT ONLY THE WINCHESTERS LIKE TO GO TO A BAR IN THEIR FREE TIME. Castiel still hasn't figured out what the appeal of a loud hole-in-the-wall pub is, but he likes spending time with Marie and being human and all means he does not need half a liquor store to get drunk (so he's careful how many whiskeys he drinks). It's nice to listen to Marie and the bartender and their stories about their military days until a man walks over and starts to butt in. Castiel recognizes his attempt at flirting after a couple of minutes and tries to make himself invisible because that's what he learned to do when he was out with Dean (only he actually could turn invisible back then). Marie doesn't seem overly happy about the guy, though, so he feels the need to at least ensure she's fine. Apparently, she is. It sounds different from her catching up with the bartender, but Castiel knows that humans sometimes use the word friend pretty generously, so he figures this new man is more of an acquaintance. Anyway, he doesn't want to interrupt, so he simply nods and then waves at the bartender to give him another whiskey. 

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " is this person bothering you? "

She’s invited Cas to come out with her tonight, a little break from things, maybe mingle with some people - just to have some fun on the town. THe bar’s not quite a deep hidden one, but it’s nothing high class either; a decent place with usually decent company. She’s been chatting with the bartender, an old friend she recognizes from her military days, a vibrant smile and laughter erupting as she even includes Cas into the conversation - until someone seems to nearly nudge their way between the duo, an attempt at flirting going downhill rather quickly towards Marie.

She’s easy to ignore, taking a sip of her drink, a roll of emerald gaze when they continue - only to catch Cas’s voice rising above the other’s, enough that she hears it and flickers gaze over to him. “Oh, we're just old friends catchin' up, that's all."

They certainly are not.

@qapsiel

#nightmdic #( v: human ) #(Marie pls you need to say it loud and clear)

[qapsiel]

@winch3ster in response to emotional

"What does age have to do with being emotional?"

#winch3ster #( v: undetermined ) #(honestly she's real tho)

[qapsiel]

@lasthymn

5.03 / 15.15

#(this parallel means everything to mean) #(EVERYTHING) #( jack ) #( face )

[qapsiel]

I've been watching spn since high school but for some reason it took me this long to make actual art for it.

#( face ) #( art )

[qapsiel]

                         CASTIEL BLINKS IN SURPRISE BECAUSE HE DIDN'T EXPECT THE NIGHTMARE TO TURN THE TABLES. Very well, it's only fair, right? It's not like he even has a bunch of secrets — ever since the whole catastrophe with Purgatory and the Leviathans, he has tried to not do 'his own thing' and keep whatever he's planning hidden from Sam and Dean. But he figures there are things not a great deal of other people know, mainly because Castiel isn't really on speaking terms with heaven anymore and the Winchesters simply don't ask a lot of questions. Not about personal things.

                             "I nearly stepped on that fish that later evolved into the first human." Only he and Gabriel, who warned him to tread lightly, know about this, and Gabriel is dead. "That could have been the end for mankind before it really began." He makes a face. "When they're behaving especially idiotic, I sometimes wish I had stepped on that fish."

Raised brows follow Castiels descent to the motel room floor, and a scoffing laugh filters past his lips. Did the Angel really think this was going to work?

But, since Castiel refused to let the Corinthian leave the fucking room, the Nightmare has little options but to play along. He sighs as he sinks to the floor. His legs folded beneath him. Palms placed on his knees as he aims to look as ridiculous as the Angel does.

Whatever Castiel is up to, it is more interesting than rewatching the same crappy sitcom episodes that have been rerunning on the tv.

"Okay then, Feathers. You go first." The Nightmare scoffs past a cold smile. His head canting slightly to the side whilst hidden maws scrutinise the Angels minute expressions. Searching for any signs of agitation or discomfort that he can sink his teeth into.

"Tell me a secret."

#eyelesssmiles #( v: bunker stories ) #(look at his big bad secret)

[qapsiel]

                             "DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. I will pay for the sandwich and the coke later." He gets an employee discount, and he's responsible for clearing out all the food articles that have exceeded their shelf life. None of the items are ever bad, though, so Castiel puts them in his backpack instead of throwing them in the trash, which has helped him tremendously to cut back his grocery budget — money he can save for the deposit he needs for his first apartment. He's so close; just another week or two. Castiel is really proud of himself.

                           Unaware of her sarcasm, he listens to Allie's apology, nodding in understanding. There's something like compassion on his face. "Yes, I know it can be — a lot." Humans weren't made to come back from the dead. Well, neither were angels, but Castiel had too much to do to think about his resurrections. "I'm about to rent my first apartment. I need a bit more money for the deposit, though. Until then, I'm staying here." He gestures vaguely toward the back of the shop. "You can stay here too if you want to. Or I can call Sam or Dean for you?"

Allie moved to open her mouth, hands catching the edge of her sunglasses and swinging them 'round in her hand. However, she broke out of her thoughts when the feeling of cold metal found her opposite hand and plastic rubbed against her wrist. The image of a wrapped sandwich came to her eyeline and Alice gave a confused expression. "Oh, Cas... This... I have to pay for this and trust me, a Gas n Gulp sandwich isn't on the budget sheet."

She eyed it for a second in hopes of finding something to say while he gave her the quickest rundown humanely possible. "Great, thanks for the sound rendition - that clears... everything up." Unfortunate sarcasm dripped from her and she supposed the words came on a little two abrasive, a side effect from being alone. "I'm sorry. I'm uh... You know, I'm alive but I feel nothing like myself." Mainly due to how much influence the brothers had on her prior life. "Where are you staying?"

#sclvged #sclvged: allie #( v: human )

[qapsiel]

                               THIS SPIRIT MIGHT NOT BE VIOLENT, but it is annoying as Hell. Castiel shoots the doorbell a nasty look before he follows his brother to the corner and crouches down to peer at the small hole in the wall. "Maybe you should get a cat to avoid future hauntings," he suggests as he pokes his finger into the hole. That's what cats are for, after all: to catch mice before they become a problem. His finger is too short to reach further into the hole, and his hand too big to stick it into the nest, so Castiel looks around until he spots Aziraphale's walking cane close to the door and the obnoxiously singing bell. He disappears from his crouched position, picks the cane up, and returns to the wall with the sound of fluttering wings.

                               "We have to salt and burn the corpse, then the ghost will find peace," he explains as he sticks the cane into the hole with a look of utmost concentration. "I think I found something. Quick, get salt and a lighter, Aziraphale."

THEREIN LIES THE PROBLEM. Aziraphale and Crowley searched for the mouse's abode when it was alive to no avail, and just when Aziraphale thought ( and hoped ) Claudius had found somewhere else to nest, Crowley had walked into the bookshop, taken a single sniff, and confirmed, "Something died in here."

Unfortunately, that's as much information as the demon's sensory radar could produce, so Aziraphale's best guess is:

❝ Somewhere by THAT CORNER. ❞ He points, just past a shelf of mysteries and thrillers, none of which can compare to such an adventure as the day's events. ❝ That's where I believe the entrance to his residence lies. ❞

The mouse has decided to temporarily possess the entrance bell, which begins dinging incessantly. Aziraphale winces at the obnoxious and rhythmless tune of the ghost as he leads Castiel to the tiny hole in the baseboard that he found a few night prior after much shuffling and rearranging.

❝ If it isn't back there, ❞ he shouts over the ringing, ❝ then I'm afraid IT COULD VERY WELL BE ANYWHERE in the shop. What on Earth could you possibly need the corpse for? ❞

#fellandfeathers #( v: bunker stories ) #(the entrance to his RESIDENCE) #(I love him)

[qapsiel]

castiel meme ♔ favorite relationships (3/6) » jack kline

#(DON'T TOUCH ME AND MY HEART) #(HE LOVES HIS KID WITH ALL HIS HEART) #(AND GRACE) #(AND BEING) #( face ) #( jack ) #lasthymn