Castiel

Contact Castiel or his mun here!

Please call to me on a Thursday, so that I may be better able to help you. Prayers do not go unanswered, you simply must be patient.

I've given my characters a healthy dose of Veritaserum and now they have to tell the truth. What does this mean for you? Ask my characters questions about anything and everything and they will truthfully answer it. Specify verse if you want to.

2000+ year old white slightly masculine tax accountant angel likes to sit at parks, ponder his existence and look after his charge who is supposed to save the world from Lucifer. Also enjoys scowling, calling blasphemy on those who question God's existence and doing the bidding of his superiors. Is immortal with possibility of falling to become human.

Seeking someone who can put up with blind faith, a very deep voice and a very dry sense of humor. Asexual preferred, if not female. Prefers light hair and immortality a plus, but not necessary. Must believe in God or at least the existence of a higher power, shun Lucifer and be comfortable with forced unconsciousness. Can deal with the day to day plight of an angel fighting to keep Hell at bay. Doesn't need to cook or laundry well. Should be willing to explain human nuances in detail and needs unfailing patience.

If interested, please pray while traveling on a Thursday to "Castiel".



Prompt: What would you want to say if you had to write a personal ad for yourself?

Taken from a suggestion from thecheerleader, and running with it. Will probably run some more too. Dean stolen from dude_imbatman with pie to go around. For Zeppelin Sucks! verse.

There's something wrong. Castiel is deaf and blind and he's wrong. Something is missing and he's unable to say what it is. Is he mute as well? It's as though he's left with no senses, no feeling and he thinks that if he were able to feel he would be in a great deal of pain. There's blood, he can feel that. A lot of it.

No, it's not an absence of feelings. He is overwhelmed by them; the light is too bright, the world too loud and he was right. It hurts. He has been left to something worse than death for an angel.

The days go by in flashes of feeling and unfeeling. He prefers when he feels nothing at all; no pain or betrayal, it's dark and quiet and Castiel feels a little like he used to. Like a copy of himself, a blurry one that doesn't quite live up to what the original looks like.

He remembers using a phone, calling Dean to ask for help. It's something he isn't proud of, one of the bouts of sadness when he couldn't help the tears coming from his eyes, and an aching in his chest as he punches the numbers. Dean's voice calmed him and he must have sounded as terrible as he felt because his former charge doesn't waste words.

And he doesn't complain about Castiel's blood in his precious car, either. The sight of him must have been enough to drive Dean to action without thought. Castiel could tell now, what had happened. He was forced to fall, in his fight to spare the Winchesters time. Zachariah had ripped out his wings, leaving two gaping holes in his back and the rest of him coated in blood. He’d lost the coat in the fight, and his shirt was soaked red. It was no wonder it hurt to use his arms. No wonder Dean laid him on his stomach in the back. The trip back to the house seems to take forever, and Castiel passes in and out of consciousness when the pain and light is too much. Castiel refuses food; that would only make all of this the more real. He only accepts some water.

He finally wakes up inside on a bed and there is whispering around him, arguments. Castiel's hand reaches out to snatch at Dean's. "No blood," he says in what he hopes is the commanding voice he once had. He sounds scratchy to himself. "Don't call her."

He is an angel still, regardless of his wings being intact or not. He refuses to be helped to heal, it isn’t natural and he doesn't know if his Father will condemn him further for it. He has to leave his fate up to His designs, not by burdening Claire. He wouldn't allow it. If he could only stay conscious.


Prompt: Destroy

By Dean:
Chuckles
Cas
Featherface
Featherass
Other feather-related things that I'm not comfortable with mentioning

By Matt:
Uncle Cas

By Lucy:
Cassie
Angelbuns
AOD - Ancient Old Dude
AILF - I...hope most can figure it out on their own.
Sexy

Claire is stolen from thecheerleader. Zeppelin Sucks verse.


He'd assumed it was the light that had drawn him to her. There was a lot about the evolved human living with the Winchsters that made it difficult for him to leave when they were through speaking. He'd never had the thought that his curiosity might be influenced by the vessel. It hadn't dawned on him all the similarities they shared. Her namesake, coloring and her attitude. Now he looked at her with renewed eyes and it shook him. He was here to do the Lord's bidding, not cater to humans or his own frivolous will.

She was talking, as she usually did carry the conversations they shared, about things past and there was a nostalgic tone to her voice. Her legs swung over the edge of the walkway on the water tower, punctuating her enthusiasm or slowing as she sobered. He had meant to tell her that he wouldn't be around much more, until he found himself stalling. He wanted to leave them all alone, but he couldn't help but feel as though he was abandoning his charge. His responsibility to Dean had become something more - he had a responsibility to Brooke, Matt, Claire - even Sam. And he found Claire easiest to speak with as she seemed to view him differently than the others did.

"So when are you going to speak up, Castiel?" Claire finally finished her reminiscence to turn her eyes up to his face. Her feet had stopped kicking and a knowing lit her eyes. "My dad used to do this before long trips, I know the signs. You're going away."

He turned ever so slightly to take in the expression on her face. She wouldn't let him know the disappointment that was hiding beneath it, refusing to acknowledge the hope she'd held out for his continued presence. The only one to stay with her, always.

Castiel didn't speak. He had no words to describe his uncertainty about the action he would take next. At the moment, however, he was needed elsewhere.

"I have a duty I must attend to," he opted for neutrality. He might become a diplomat still. Not answering questions seemed like something he was able to do very easily.

"Yeah, join the club," she replied bitterly. He waited for awhile before replying, in the dry tone he couldn't help but use.

"If there isn't a membership fee." His face was granite but for a subtle twinkle in his eyes. Claire showed no amusement, and so he simply took her hand and returned her to her room. Without another word, he left again.


Prompt: Stay.

Anna is theres_stillme, with kind of permission. Hah!

The sky shakes and pours with the pressure in the atmosphere above the barren deserts. Here, in the wide space of nothing, rain is a rare occurrence. Tonight it falls in gallons as if the very oceans are pouring into the sand. Even as thunder drowns out the sound of battle, lightning rips across the sky to illuminate the silhouettes of the fighting and fallen soldiers of the armies of heaven and hell.
 
Castiel is first on the field with two of his brethren. They flank him as he descends upon the filth of hell and cuts the first clean in two - the black smoke fizzles and crawls away like termites running from the pesticides of an exterminator. Fury flares in his eyes as he cuts through another, and again. The angel to his right falls, his vessel's knees cut into the ground as bright light makes the lightning look like a weak flashlight in the dusk of the end of another day. He abruptly changes course, charging toward his brother's killer and pushing his hand into its chest. He doesn't smile for the revenge; the only movement in his face is a subtle twitch of his eyebrows from concentrating.
 
Here, there is no wavering or choices to make based on his judgments and observations. There is only God's side and the wrong side, and everyone is clearly marked - God's soldiers shine with righteousness and faith while the defiled cockroaches of hell cower in the dark before them. This is what he was made for, this execution of will, the execution of those who would reject the Lord and all his creations.
 
The air smells acrid, sulfuric and it clots his vessel's throat though he isn't breathing. Castiel is being put upon, surrounded by twenty-plus demons closing in on him and cutting him off from the angels finally coming to help him clean this nest out. He turns slowly around, standing up straighter and seeming to grow several feet while his wings begin to unfold out behind him. He pulls a thick white sword from nowhere and this time he does smile, a twitch of his lips before it is gone and he is burying the sword into the ground.
 
Fire radiates out in a circle; Castiel is at the center, as the blue flames wave out underneath his opponents and swallows them up in the fire of his power. In seconds, he pulls the sword back out and begins cutting his way through the remaining demons with a precision and strength that wavers when he sees reinforcements for the wrong side storming in. They are lead by a demon that he does not recognize, but its power is felt from the distance, greater than Lilith; greater than Alistair. But Castiel feels no fear, only duty.
 
He flanks the archangel that just led Castiel's backup in, taking the new forces head on and carving out the demons surrounding this new power. He lets his superior take point, she forcefully begins her fight with this demon - Irichiel, Castiel hears one of the demons call him. She immediately gets an upper hand, leaving Castiel comfortable to weed out the lesser demons, though with more trouble than he'd had with the others. He takes his sword to their heads one at a time now, unable to fight more at once.
 
 
The battle wears on for hours, maybe longer; both sides have felt massive losses but Castiel still pushes on. He knows something different should to be done, but he's in no position to make a call as desperate as the one he wants to make. Irichiel is still keeping pace with the archangel and it seems as though his army is ever growing, though Castiel has put hundreds of them down, and two more of his brethren have fallen.
 
A loud crack echoes above the din, louder than thunder and Castiel turns to see his general falling slowly to the ground with Irichiel looming over her. Real shock rips across Castiel's face as he sees the remaining two angels fall as well. He's pushed to the ground from behind, and he finally closes his eyes, accepting his fate, and letting the fleeting thought enter his mind.
 
A red flash and glow, and she's there in front of Irichiel, unwavering and ready to cause pain. The glint of silver she wields proves Castiel right, and with a thrust that sends it and her hands through the great demon's body, he's dissipated into the air. Castiel has returned to his feet and made his way to her at the center, past his fallen superior's corpse. She pushes Irichiel from the silver stake with her foot, his body landing in the dirt with a thud.
 
"Anna!" Castiel yells a warning as she's approached from behind by a crowd of demons. As soon as she turns, brandishing her new weapon, they falter and cower backward. She smiles grimly and addresses Castiel without looking away from her would-be attackers.
 
"I thought you might never call me," she remarks as he nears.
 
"I had," he pauses, piecing his words. He decides to be truthful and continues, "No choice. Thank you."
 
"This is the second time. Be careful not to get to close," she snaps. He stops a foot to her side and holds out one of his hands. She frowns down at it, and then looks back up at him.
 
"Apparently it's a greeting," he states, the barest of twinkles in his eye as she takes it. "We should clean up this mess."
 
"You'll never change, Cas. I'm still doing your work for you," Anna replies, the same glint in her eyes.


Prompt: OTC 44.2 "Awake, arise or be forever fallen" -Paradise Lost

People are very similar to insects, swarming and working around the great fountain in the middle of the hospital clinic. Nurses hurried to exam rooms, doctors consulted their clipboards and the patients waited impatiently. They surrounded each other without conversing or taking notice of any of the others; uncaring in a place of healing and nurturing.

"Hey guy. Are you sick?" the boy sat himself down on the bench and scowled. Castiel slowly turned his head to regard him and blinked. The boy blinked back. His name was Charlie and he was 10 years, 3 months and 19 days old.

"No," Castiel admitted. "Are you?"

"I have asthma. Need an inhaler and gotta get a diagnosis to get a new one," Charlie said and shrugged at Castiel's frown. "So why are you here if you don't have to be?"

"I enjoy watching people," he explained. Castiel noticed Charlie's mother with her nose in OK magazine. "You don't have asthma."
( Charlie looked up, surprised for only a second... )

Kissing Meme for Lucy i_willpout

The heel of some kind of expensive, important shoe that she kept trying to teach Castiel about was clacking against the leg of the table she sat at. He noticed she wouldn't make eye contact with him the entire day after he'd put her to sleep but he couldn't understand why - Lucy normally got into his face and let him know exactly what he'd done wrong. It was one of the reasons he'd chosen her to be his teacher in the subject of humans. This must be that monthly time that Dean had told him about. Apparently it was a female thing.

"Lucy?" Castiel ventured direct contact but the word fell flat onto the room. She turned her head further from him, to inspect the nails of her hand. She was very insistent that they stay immaculate, despite her slaying.
( She was actually serving to make him minutely nervous... )

"Instantly the fairy appeared, and explained everything to Jack’s mother, begging her to forgive Jack, who was his father’s own son for bravery and generosity, and who would be sure to make her happy for the rest of her days.

"So all ended well, and nothing was ever heard or seen of the wonderful Bean-stalk."

As Castiel recited, Matthew's eyes kept closing briefly and then he'd drag them open again. Castiel drew his brow together and tilted his head as he watched to determine if this was the moment Brooke spoke of.

"Kiss him on his forehead," she said from the door. "He'll fight sleep until you do."
( Castiel's head swiveled around to where she stood behind him and then back to Matthew. )

For thecheerleader, who requested a kiss from Castiel - hope I didn't butcher Claire :)
Warning: Character Death.

She prays for a week, angry and demanding. Calling him a coward, telling him to come talk to her. He finally appears to her while she's at some run down diner with books in front of her. They haven't seen each other in years, maybe a decade, but neither of them look any different. Claire almost smiles when she sees him, but she quickly remembers why she wanted to speak with him. He waits patiently as ever for her to begin their conversation.

( Did you know about this? )

You Are 76% Lady

Overall, you are a refined lady with excellent manners. But you also know when to relax and not get too serious about etiquette

Perhaps I need a new body...


( More quizzes )

If you want to have your pup kiss mine, comment here! I'll write a drabble/short fiction makin' it happen!

Because it's hilarious.

Things I do that annoy other people:

• Threaten their younger brother
• Appear and disappear without warning
• Never change my clothing
• Don't directly help every problem
• Blind them
• Make their ears bleed when I speak
• Talk about God all the time
• Remind them that I saved them from Hell
• Get confused when they want to shake an angel's hand
• Put them to sleep without their permission
• Scowl