#qapsiel

[esoterium]

@qapsiel || random inbox starter! || always accepting!

"dean, there's a cowboy movie on tv."

there's not much going on. the hotel's in one of those tiny towns that's right out of some sorta horror novel. one stoplight to break up the monotony of nothing on the road but white dotted lines and tumbleweeds for days. sam's lucked out, though. with no one in sight for weeks, the weird owner with half his teeth in his front pocket gave them two rooms for the price of one. sure..it was a little shady of a deal and dean wondered if splitting them up was some sorta tactic out of hills have eyes but they had no idea who they were messing with if that was the case. or the arsenal that'd be greeting them if they tried to drag them off to their nuclear bunker full of messed up.

they've faced worse. let 'em have their space.

course cas showing up and being there? dean doesn't mind the company. he's hunched over the small two seater table by the window. hoagie from the truckstop (the only other open and functional business in town far as dean could tell) shoved in his mouth when cas points out the movie on the old enough for disco to still be king television. his ears perk up. few bites later and a swallow from his drink, dean's hopping up from the chair with a metallic clank and an arched brow shot back over his shoulder at the noise.

then with a toss of his body weight down on the bed, socked feet cross over one another and he huffs at his companion. "cowboy movie? this is more than a cowboy movie," a lowbrow look is given to the angel, "this is the good, the bad and the ugly. one of the best movies ever made. see that guy? that's clint eastwood. if we had him around? damn. our jobs would be so much easier," he muses shooting cas one of those little grins. "c'mon. take a load off and learn.."

#lay your weary head to rest. (dean winchester) #qapsiel #featuring: castiel (qapsiel) #hi ily

[bloodsalted]

// dean is personally offended for all the lady cats that @qapsiel didn't tell god to 'slow his roll' when he gave male cats barbed penises. #sendtext

#you did them a solid injustice cas #big time. #is this crack? idek. toeing a line into prolly not. #ROFL #qapsiel

[bloodsalteds]

@qapsiel || mystery prompts: sinday action edition || accepting!

2 + 11, i'm going for broke and doing both! (including them in the actual post but not listing what they are so it doesn't spoil the post!)

they've done this together more than a few times now. shared some fantasies in whispered tones when all the lights've been blown out from their antics. sam's getting rooms to himself lately (a few doors down so he doesn't have to hear) and they have so much time to make up for. so many experiences to have. so many ways to enjoy each other that dean doesn't feel like there's enough time in every night they can take to fit it all in. cas is the same. always looking for more. always wanting more. it's sinful how much they crave one another. lust at it's finest. and dean couldn't care any less.

not when his wrists are now bound together above his head. cas's tie is laced around and through in loops that intertwine a metallic rung of the headboard. he's good at tying knots. impressive even. dean's hands aren't going anywhere. a shuddering breath parts tongue swept lips left glistening with spit. his head lifts, a gasp drawn through them when the angel's fingers close around a nipple pinching it lightly and he groans when he sees the blue in castiel's eyes darken as they flick up to meet his.

the stare holds dean in place. pulse thundering in his ear drums as his breath quickens, stomach trembling and his erection is thick and curved towards his belly. unable to move and barely able to get out anything more than a shaken murmur of cas's name, the hunter's toes curl before his knee opposite of where cas lays beside him bends and drags them across the much softer sheets compared to the hotel they were at last night. he needs him. needs him so fucking bad it HURTS.

"you're gonna be the end of me," he whines shakenly body arching towards the touch as his head falls back down--head turned in cas's direction as dazed eyes take in the sight of him, how the shadows play off a bare shoulder. god damn, was he gonna be.

#featuring: castiel (qapsiel) #qapsiel #ooft! #lay your weary head to rest. (chapter i)

[eyeless-smiles]

♡ for Cas and his 393.5 eyes 😘

Send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours

For Castiel

●●●●○ | ATTRACTION

●○○○○ | AFFECTION

●●●○○ | INTEREST

●○○○○ | LOYALTY

○○○○○ | TRUST

@qapsiel

LOW | ●●●●● | HIGH

Castiel tattled on him to his Creator. Not a cool move.

#ooc #qapsiel

[sioraiocht]

@qapsiel asked: ❛  i learned to cook pasta, i learned to pay rent; i learned the world doesn't owe you a cent.  ❜ (for Lilith)

Lips curve upwards, Lilith's head tilting to the side in amusement. "Pity you didn't learn the importance of good fashion sense." Eyes flick down along his body slowly before returning to his face. "Are you actually paying rent?" Brow lifts. Lilith's more in the mindset of 'take what you need and leave chaos in your wake' rather than 'be a respectful citizen'. Gaze turns to look around them. "Where are those brothers you hang around with? I particularly enjoy the gruff one."

#qapsiel #;lilith & castiel { qapsiel } #;lilith answers

[bloodsaltedshifting]

@qapsiel || nightamres & sleeping meme || accepting!

[TUCK] - for sender to find receiver’s muse asleep somewhere and tuck them in with a blanket (or jacket, etc) - he uses his trench coat 🥺

dean's curled up on the sofa of some cheap hotel room. the bed covered in research, ammunition and a mess of other junk that he was too damn exhausted to bat away once he stumbled in for the night. exhaustion made every inch of his body feel heavy enough that each step must've been taken in a pair of concrete boots. his hair was an absolute disaster. a weary body and an even warier mind. only one boot was kicked off and when the other put up too much of a fight? he let it stay on. why argue, he figured. and simply let it have it's way.

he doesn't budge at castiel's entrance. it speaks mountains about the level of safety that he feels from the angel that something internal wasn't triggered in the hunter when someone else entered. much less came close enough that the coat was fanned out and brought down over him like a blanket. dean ends up squirming underneath it. settling in. tucking his chin towards the collar and inhaling deep. his body seems to sink more into the cushions. relaxing further and more solid than he was a second ago without it. the scent lulling him into a place that, perhaps, only it can do.

though when castiel rights himself again. even takes to making a slight distance between them, he's stopped by a hand curling around his wrist. dean doesn't open his eyes. "don't go. stay," comes out groggy. whiskey scented from the swig he had on the way past the table to the sofa. the way he tugs the angel while leaning back into the back cushions says he's making enough room for the two of them to fit if they face one another.

it's a request that doesn't come easy. a trust that comes even less so. but it's here as green eyes crack open. sleep riddled and dream touched before they close again. "with me."

#featuring: castiel (qapsiel) #qapsiel #<3 #lay your weary head to rest. (chapter i.) #maybe earlier on? #idk but i'm just..brb..emotions.

[nightmdic]

[stretch] - Sender watches receiver stretch, showing a bit of skin.

Inviting Cas over had been a swift thought, least having heard about what sounded like another stressful day at the Gas'n'Sip. She's decided another simple meal tonight - some tomato soup cooking and grilled cheese started.

She's just reaching into a taller cabinet when she talks, features more encased within such cabinet to pay no attention to how her shirt rises with the stretch, revealing more of mer mid riff.

"One of these days, I need to cook you a fancy steak dinner - "

@qapsiel

#qapsiel

[singersalvaged]

@qapsiel liked for some funnies.

"Why is it always a trenchcoat? Ya got business meetings in heaven or what?" A gentle snort came from the rugged hunter and he stood up to take in the angel. It had been a while, some would say too long. "We need to get ya' a wardrobe," by that, he meant jeans and a flannel. Stuff that blended in.

#t: bobby singer #qapsiel #I don't know why but I just find this so mundane and funny

[bloodsalted]

@qapsiel || oh this is coming. i told you. || no i'm not sorry.

[AGONY] - Dean rescues Cas from the hands of the enemy, and finds him in terrible shape. 😇

the room where cas was taken from him? it's one that he's avoided taking every damn precaution he can to turn a blind eye to the slimmest chance he might see those four walls ever again. all but one night. the next one. where he tricked himself into thinking that, maybe, if he showed up and called for him enough--the previous night would simply go away and like some fucking magic that doesn't exist in his world (because why would it? why would he get even that much of a god damn BREAK?)--cas would be standing there. coughed up by the ink and black and NOTHING that he willingly let take him shattering every piece of dean and what they had in the process. because why? because he loved him. as much as dean loved him back.

he can't get the feeling of cas's skin off his hands. he doesn't want to. the last touch. the last whisper of i love you, too against the angel's mouth as the worst nightmare he could think of happened in front of his eyes and he was powerless to stop it. even his hands that gripped cas's face, that desperately clawed for and missed his shoulders. felt like they betrayed him. THEY KEEP FEELING THAT WAY. even now. in all the time it's taken him to figure out HOW. in all the time's he's gotten down on his hands and knees and prayed or screamed until his voice was raw and torn and sam heard and came running to JACK that he give him some sorta sign. some sorta power to take that day back! that he'd give up the rest of his decades on earth (if you could count that high..who knows how much time he's got?? OR WHAT IT'S WORTH) for just another week. another month. another YEAR (just one) to have cas back. where he belongs. back WHERE HE BELONGS.

to all the people we've lost along the way.

only he couldn't accept that. he couldn't rest. he couldn't sleep. tried to have his own sorta funeral that was bullshit come a few hours later. he trashed his room. he threw insults, in his mind and outloud, at the boy he loved if he isn't going to fucking LISTEN then what good was ANYTHING FOR? until he thought his heart couldn't break anymore. and that's when it came to him. what to do. where to go. and that he'd bleed for it if he had to. so? that's where he is now. standing in that room. staring at the empty spot where cas was dragged off to with a blade in his hand that feels so heavy, he doesn't know if he can keep hold of it for long. dean drops to his knees. 'maybe not today... but someday.. TODAY IS SOMEDAY.' like some force outside of himself is in control. the blood that swells out of his cut palm puddles freely from the cut as the blade hits the floor. he paints in his own shades of reddish black brown markings that come to him without even a thought as to what they might mean. he doesn't know. but there's a warmth in his chest and a glow to his eyes that illuminates the floor in a shade that only reminds him of their son.

the same light begins to fill the room. and there's a warmth on his shoulder that pulls him up and pushes him forward towards it. it's so bright that he has to squint his eyes. so blue and white and that guiding hand simply pushes him FORWARD into it. and past that? BLACK. thick air so heavy he can barely move his limbs. he drips blood as he walks. a steady trail that bursts with color instead of rotting into brown in his wake. it follows him. step by step. even as the muddy dark battles against him. he smells of ozone and honey. beer and pie. and that scent reaches out like a coil around the angel trapped in the dark. it curls around his mind and soothes him as if it's a touch beckoning him to seek out the source. a voice in castiel's mind. not dean's.. but someone else he loves. 'you don't deserve to be here, castiel. go.' and that's when dean's steps can be heard. little puddles of light bead behind him still. brightening cas's NIGHT like the stars of the big dipper. "CAS?!" dean's hand clasps his shoulder. marking it as he was once marked. glowing brilliantly bright. all the warmth and love and LIGHT of family there to bring him HOME.

HE FOUND HIM.

#featuring: castiel (qapsiel) #qapsiel #huh.. #what do ya know? did myself my own damn dirty. #ily. #lay your weary head to rest. (chapter i)

[untilthcyrot]

❝ Demon? Just because I come from Hell doesn't make me a demon, let's make that clear. ❞

♡ ───── open starter for neria, a mother of hellhounds oc !

#qapsiel #♡ ───── NERIA ( INTERACTIONS )

[mlfns]

STARTER FOR @qapsiel

being  in  HIDING  in  world  he  didn't  seem  to  understand  or  connect  with  wasn't  the  easiest  thing  ,  setting  about  on  discovering  just  who  exactly  he  was  -  or  who  he  had  been  before  HYDRA  proved  to  be  ever  harder  .  the  world  didn't  come  with  answers  that  would  stare  him  straight  in  the  face  and  offer  themselves  up  ,  it  practically  felt  like  he  was  against  it  ,  PARANOID  that  he  would  be  found  again  ,  that  it  would  all  disappear  . it  was  that  same  paranoia  that  had  him  on  edge  now  -  spotting  the  man  across  the  park  ,  a  man  that  he  saw  far  too  often  there  ,  he  could  be  completely  INNOCENT  ,  but  things  just  didn't  seem  right  .  had  it  been  a  week  ,  perhaps  even  longer  ,  but  eventually  he  approached  the  stranger  just  to  be  SURE  . ❝   who  are  you  ??   ❞   the  rarely  used  voice  still  didn't  feel  his  own  ,  he  hadn't  found  familiarity  to  it  yet  .

#qapsiel #⊲ ʟᴇᴛʜᴀʟ ᴀssᴇᴛ ﹣ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ ⊳ #{ i hope this works but pretty please let me know if i can provide something different } #{ and thank u for liking my call <3 }

[waywardfeathered]

@qapsiel said: «ENTRAP»   for the sender to capture the receiver in a trap made by the sender. (Catching the doppelganger in a ring of holy fire 😁l

capturing a muse starters    /    ACCEPTING ↷

Holy fire.  Unable to step away, Cas follows the fire catching on the holy oil, forming the ring of an angel trap around him in under a second. He’s getting  really, very tired of becoming trapped.  Really, it happens way too often, so while certainly alarming, it’s also... annoying. It’s sigils, it’s angel-proof handcuffs or chains, it’s a plain old ring of holy fire. But who, this time...?

Turning around to face his captor⸺  right, yes, this gives him pause.

❝ This is new, ❞    he offers, facing his double, unblinking, as he studies him.

The other Castiel is an angel, so if this is a trick, it’s a complex one; Cas can see people’s species to the range of human, demon, angel, other, with only a glance. He tilts his head, narrow eyes piercing, as he assesses. The double’s behaviour checks out, at least so far: if Cas spotted himself sauntering about, his first instinct would likely be to capture him, as well. The double’s also managed to do so, and he is not easy to lure into a trap.

#qapsiel #who blinks first #cas vs. cas staring contest? #; wayward angel ❪ verse / main. ❫ #; qapsiel / 001

[eyeless-smiles]

@qapsiel | Closed RP

This one has been particularly vocal, even before the Corinthian produced his knife.

He's never been one to complain about loud partners. It only adds to the fun. And when that pleasure turns to unadulterated terror? Even better.

But the Corinthian likes to hear begging. Pleading. Confusion and despair. He wants every little word coming from those quivering lips to be a desperate symphony for his mercy.

But that's where this one has to go and ruin the game. He begins to pray. It has the Corinthian's exposed ocular maws twisting in disgust. In agitation. Frustrated that rather than begging him for mercy, he would dare beg God.

"Your little religion won't save you." The Nightmare laughs in the face of its quivering victim, pinned beneath him into the stained sheets of a dingy motel bed. Naked and panting still from the pleasure they had been wrapped in only moments before. But bliss has paved the way for adrenaline, as soon as the monster decided it wants those pretty blue eyes.

A blade slips between soft flesh and hard bone, and with expertise, the Corinthian relieves his victim of his right eye. A satisfying pop following a blood curdling scream.

The victims' prayers come more frantically now. Tinged with agony as he comes to realise that this ocular mawed monster above him will surely end his life.

"Shh, relax baby. This'll all be over soon, and you can be reunited with your useless God." Comes a cooing affirmation from the beast above it. Just as the Corinthian slips his prize into an eagerly awaiting ocular maw.

#((i hope this works! #ic #closed rp #qapsiel #gore tw #violence tw #death tw