Perpetually Roleplaying

Dean/Castiel

moogletsrpblog:

perpetuallyrping:

Castiel kept his gaze firmly locked on the ground. He’d heard the question; he just didn’t know how to answer it. He had visited Dean, cloaked from the other man’s vision. In fact, he’d probably checked in on him far more than was called for. Even if Dean wasn’t aware of his visits, seeing Dean happy, without pain, grounded Castiel during his times of trial. 

Swallowing, Castiel felt something jerk in his chest as well as Dean made a move to reach out and touch him. It was such a rare moment, for Dean to deign to want to touch the angel, that he felt compelled to at least tell a fraction of the truth. 

“I…” he began, eyes still on the ground. It felt wrong, not to stare into Dean’s eyes while he spoke, but that ever-present feeling of shame wouldn’t let go. “I have visited you, at times when I needed to be reassured that you were happy with your life. I did not want to disturb you by alerting you to my presence…”

Dean’s mind went immediately blank and this time he didn’t stop himself when he reached out and - not even really knowing why - pressed his fingers to Castiel’s forearm. He could feel Cas’ arm through the folds of too-big trench coat, the material rough under his fingers as he pressed them harder. 

“I - Cas you should have - seriously dude,  you should have said something!” His fingers slipped over the fabric and he wrapped his hand around Cas’s arm, squeezing slightly. “I was going mad, Cas. Sammy was dead, you were gone. Everything was over. The damned white-picket-fence dream wasn’t - it wasn’t…” He shook his head.

The year with Lisa had helped him get over his grief. He’d worked, he’d gone with the flow of the life, but that had been all it was. A way to work himself out of the depression he’d slipped into with Sammy gone forever, his last living blood relative, his little brother, the kid he’d pretty much brought up himself. And on top of it, his best friend, the only guy he’d ever been able to consider as such, had just upped and gone back to heaven. Talking to Bobby had been too hard, so he hadn’t even tried. So he’d been left with Lisa and Ben; and they were great. Sometimes he wondered why Lisa had even done it.

But it hadn’t been his life. He’d just been going through the motions of it all. And now Cas say’s he’d visited but not visited.

“Cas, you should have let me know.” His fingers tightened around Castiel’s forearm.

“I needed…I needed-” Castiel sighed and broke his sentence off midway through. He shouldn’t be telling telling Dean this. It was too close to the thing that the angel knew Dean couldn’t know, not without wounding him. Cas knew that Dean expected impossibilities from him, not pragmatic deals with the Devil. 

He forced himself to look up at Dean. It hurt, to do it, but Castiel believed that he deserved the pang of discomfort that it brought him. 

“I needed something that I could not ask of you,” he finally said, gaze wavering before being forced back to Dean’s face. It shouldn’t be this hard to look at the Winchester; it wasn’t right. However, the hand on his arm kept him from going back to what was easy. With Dean clinging to his arm like this, Castiel found that hiding his presence, or staring at the ground, was becoming impossible. 

“When I came to see you, Dean…you looked at peace. I could not disturb you again. I simply came back to check in on you every so often.”

Castiel had, in reality, come to Dean almost every week, trailing along in Dean’s personal space like he was the one place the angel could draw strength from. However, he still remembered Dean’s conversation about ‘personal space.’ The man would probably disapprove, even more so because he was unaware.

Dean/Castiel

moogletsrpblog:

perpetuallyrping:

Castiel should have remained angry. An ‘I miss you’ didn’t balance out all of the grief that Dean had given him over the past day or so, but the angel felt something relax inside his (yes, his, Jimmy was long gone after his first stint with full-body explosion) chest. 

“I did not enjoy that,” he said, remembering the sound of pain the small child had made. “But it was the only way. I told you Dean, I don’t have the time or luxury to worry about those things.” 

Even as he spoke, Castiel’s voice began to tense again. He could say it as much as he want, but the fact remained that despite his best efforts, the emotions he’d developed while on earth still remained. Angels weren’t meant to feel guilt, doubt, or even loneliness, but Castiel was experiencing a heady mixture of all three. 

He fell silent, staring down at the floor before adding on, almost as an afterthought.

“…I missed your presence as well.”

Recognising that antagonising Castiel further, arguing with him over something that had already happened, was a pointless thing to do right now - they could talk it through later, when they were both calm - Dean passed a hand over his face and sighed, shoulders slumping a little, tired all of a sudden.

A spark of something flared to life in his chest when Cas admitted he’d missed him as well. He didn’t know what it was, or what it signified, but it was warm and familiar and just a little bit as if it could choke him. 

He looked at Castiel for a long moment, absolutely unclear on how to continue. He said the first thing that came to mind, “Why didn’t you visit?” He made an abortive gesture, as if to grab Cas’ sleeve, but resisting at the last second. 

Castiel kept his gaze firmly locked on the ground. He’d heard the question; he just didn’t know how to answer it. He had visited Dean, cloaked from the other man’s vision. In fact, he’d probably checked in on him far more than was called for. Even if Dean wasn’t aware of his visits, seeing Dean happy, without pain, grounded Castiel during his times of trial. 

Swallowing, Castiel felt something jerk in his chest as well as Dean made a move to reach out and touch him. It was such a rare moment, for Dean to deign to want to touch the angel, that he felt compelled to at least tell a fraction of the truth. 

“I…” he began, eyes still on the ground. It felt wrong, not to stare into Dean’s eyes while he spoke, but that ever-present feeling of shame wouldn’t let go. “I have visited you, at times when I needed to be reassured that you were happy with your life. I did not want to disturb you by alerting you to my presence…”

Dean/Castiel

moogletsrpblog:

Dean relaxed further. All right, so Cas did have a point - again - even if he really hated to admit it. Really hated. Still didn’t make his anger and whateverthehell the other unidentified emotion was he was feeling lessen in the slightest. Apparently something about this Balthazar dick just rubbed him up the wrong damn way. 

He ran a hand over his face when Castiel stiffened again, mentioned the war. This was going nowhere, and fast. He watched as the angel tried to collect himself, taking in his tired features - for a brief moment he wondered if Jimmy was still in there, but chased the thought away - and reminded himself he hadn’t seen Cas since - well. Since the apocalypse that wasn’t. 

Well fuck. Dean harrumphed again, taking in the way Cas hesitated, cut himself off and spoke before he knew what he was saying.

“I missed you, Cas.” He pursed his lips as he realised what he’d said, and tried to cover the stupid thing with a gruff, “Never thought I’d see you have to torture kids, y’know?” 

Castiel should have remained angry. An ‘I miss you’ didn’t balance out all of the grief that Dean had given him over the past day or so, but the angel felt something relax inside his (yes, his, Jimmy was long gone after his first stint with full-body explosion) chest. 

“I did not enjoy that,” he said, remembering the sound of pain the small child had made. “But it was the only way. I told you Dean, I don’t have the time or luxury to worry about those things.” 

Even as he spoke, Castiel’s voice began to tense again. He could say it as much as he want, but the fact remained that despite his best efforts, the emotions he’d developed while on earth still remained. Angels weren’t meant to feel guilt, doubt, or even loneliness, but Castiel was experiencing a heady mixture of all three. 

He fell silent, staring down at the floor before adding on, almost as an afterthought.

“…I missed your presence as well.”

(Source: perpetuallyrping)

Dean/Castiel

moogletsrpblog:

Dean subsided just a touch, shoulders slumping slightly. He was still pissed, still worried, still exasperated by the way Cas had just let Balthazar leave. But Castiel did kinda make sense. ‘Enemy of my enemy’ and all that. He refused to dwell on what Cas had meant by ‘entertainments’ though. Especially in the tone of voice he’d said it.

“All right - fine - he’s not likely to give the nukes to the other team. Doesn’t mean I’m any less unhappy about it all. What’s to say some other dick doesn’t jump him and steal them?” 

He glanced down at his own hand on Castiel’s shoulder as Cas did, registering that he’d both failed to move the angel and that the angel didn’t even know what he was doing. He snorted gruffly and dropped his hand, “Just.” 

He paused, not quite knowing what he was going to ask, shook his head and harrumphed. “You’ve changed, Cas.” 

“If I cannot find him, it is unlikely that anyone else can,” Cas answered. He didn’t want to dwell on Balthazar’s hobbies as well; drugs and orgies were the last thing he’d intended for his brethren when he tripped up fate. 

If the angel had relaxed at any point, he tensed right back up at the new accusation. 

“I have spent a year at war, Dean. I am still the angel you know.” Though he was still angry, Castiel tried to diffuse the moment, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself. The war and his new allies frayed at his patience. The Dean-shaped hole in his life did not help his attitude either. 

“The war is stressful. And I…” Castiel shut his mouth, not wanting to burden Dean with inconsequential things. An angel’s feelings were always inconsequential.

(Source: perpetuallyrping)

Dean/Castiel

moogletsrpblog:

Yeah. No. The trying to get past Cas thing wasn’t working in the slightest. Dean found himself leaning back against the bookshelf even more heavily as Cas crowded in closer, finger quotes framing him in a way that would ordinarily make him laugh. 

When would he ever learn not to piss Cas off, anyway? 

“Didn’t say anythin’ about killing him, Cas. Just. Damn it - the guy’s obviously not exactly on your side, is he?” Dean made an expansive gesture of his own, in the direction of the hallway where they’d had Balthazar trapped, “He’s selling your nukes and you let him go!” 

Ok. So staring Cas in the eyes as he yelled was getting uncomfortable. And seriously, he wanted his space back. He went for option A and pressed a hand to Cas’ shoulder, at the very least attempting to push him back a bit so he could get past. “Seriously, Cas.” 

“He is on no one’s side,” Castiel replied, still tense from the man’s continued prodding. “Though I know the last person he will give those weapons to is Raphael and his followers. If he is so attached to the…entertainments…of the world,” he said the word carefully, trying not to think of the French word for twelve, “I doubt he will aid in its destruction.”

Castiel looked down at the hand on his shoulder. It was rare that Dean touched him. It was rare that anyone touched him, actually, other than in a fight. His understanding of physical cues were even worse than verbal as a result. Not understanding it was a hint to move, Castiel simply looked back up at Dean’s face, head tilting to the side as he ramped up his staring. “I know you’re serious. But I disagree.”

(Source: perpetuallyrping)

Dean/Castiel

moogletsrpblog:

Dean had no idea how he missed the usual tell-tale sign that Cas had turned up - maybe a year of not hearing the beating of wings had dulled his abilty to pick up on it - but he didn’t realise Castiel was right freakin there, until he was right the way in his personal space and the flutter of feathers gave the Angel away. 

The subtle sound of wings shifting had him jumping slightly, his eyes opening like a shot and he found himself staring straight into Cas’ eyes. “Cas!” 

Of course, being backed against a bookshelf meant he felt a little trapped and he had to either physically push Cas away or deal with it verbally. “Geeze Cas, back off a bit,” his voice gruff as he tried to push past the angel without actually touching him. Not that it was working. 

“What the hell’re you doin’ back here anyway?” He couldn’t help the glare he levelled on Cas, or the truly pissed off tone to his voice. “Thought you’d flitted off to get chummy with your dick friend again.”

Castiel had come to make reparations, but when Dean opened his mouth to snap at him once again, the angel’s mouth tightened into a thin line. There was another sound of feathers behind him as the angel prickled at the insult. What Dean said hurt, so much more so than the names that demons and fellow angels flung at him. 

“I owed Balthazar my life,” he murmured, not moving an inch, “and he let the child’s soul go. I will not kill one of my brothers if it isn’t necessary, Dean. And I do not know what “chummy”  means.”

The word ‘chummy’ was surrounded by physical quotation marks and a spike of irritation in Castiel’s voice. If anything, the angel crowded in closer to Dean, determined not to let this opportunity pass. 

No matter how hard Dean seemed to be trying to make him fly off in a frustrated huff.

(Source: perpetuallyrping)

Dean/Castiel

moogletsrpblog:

perpetuallyrping:

Things had not gone well. Not at all. 

When Castiel had been called down from Heaven, what could only be called an inappropriate joy had flickered through the angel. This would be the first time that they spoke since Sam had jumped into the pit. True, Castiel had seen Dean a handful of times after, but it had always been under the cover of Grace, unseen to the human’s eyes. He had been on the warpath since his arrival in Heaven a year earlier, and still was, but there was denying it. 

He was happy to see Dean Winchester. 

However, Dean had been decidedly unhappy with him as he’d flapped away from the scene of betrayal. Even though Castiel knew that his treatment of Balthazar had been just, there was no explaining that to the look in Dean’s eyes as he’d extinguished the Holy Fire. Cas was an angel that could stand against anything, but in the face of that pain, he fled. The angel was currently floating in between worlds, avoiding both the threat of returning to Heaven’s battleground and the threat of a disappointed Dean. Castiel chose to call it assessing the situation; anyone else would have called it moping.

“I do not have time for this,” he murmured. Speaking one of the many human habits he’d failed to shake in his time as an incorporeal wave of energy. Even when he technically didn’t have a mouth, he found himself musing aloud. He was wasting time here on inconsequential things. These were precious seconds better used for tactical planning. No matter how upset his human friend, Castiel was duty-bound to return to heaven.

Castiel stretched his wings to take flight, ready to rise back to Heaven—and paused. And whether driven by a gnawing guilt of his own dealings with souls, or the “profound bond,” the angel succumbed to yet another weakness: impulsive behavior.

He waited a beat longer, shifting his wings to a different angle before shooting off. Not up to Heaven, but back down to Earth to where he could still feel Dean’s soul.

To say Dean was pissed was a freakin’ understatement. No contact for a year - over a year, really - was bad enough, but to have Cas turn up only to torture a damn kid and then let the dick angel that made it necessary escape? That was not the Cas he knew, the Cas he trusted, the Cas he’d come to think of as his best friend. He had no idea how to react to this new Cas. 

To cap the whole unsettling business off, Sam was beginning to worry him as well. There was something off about his brother and he couldn’t figure out what it was. 

So. “Give me a minute, man,” he muttered. After Sam shrugged, turned and headed back to the Impala, Dean kicked at a random piece of broken furniture and stomped through the house to find a place he could regather his wits.

It had been great to see Castiel again. For those first brief few moments before reality came crashing back in again. Dean had felt both the smugness that his friend came when he called, and relief to see him again after so long, apparently whole and well, still in the Jimmy-suit, rumpled and unshaven as ever. 

Freakin Angels. Seriously. Dean kicked at something that clanged and rolled across the floor, startling himself briefly. He scowled, wiped a hand over his face, through his hair and moved on, into what looked like an abandoned library. 

Sure Heavenly Civil War changed things, but that much? He leaned against a bookshelf, closed his eyes. 

To his surprise, Castiel found Dean to still be in Balthazar’s abandoned house. Zeroing in Dean, Cas materialized without a sound in front of the man. When he’d appeared to them in the hotel room, the angel had arrived behind Sam, several feet away from Dean. It was something he’d never done before, but he’d been…nervous, hadn’t known if Dean would still look up at him the same way he had in the graveyard a year ago. 

Now, though, Castiel appeared mere inches away from Dean. He liked it better this way. This close, he could see the small freckles that dotted the bridge of the man’s nose. It was unlike an angel to be so attentive to physical features, but Castiel had rebuilt this body from scratch. Observing Dean’s body in working condition was the closest thing to earthly pleasure Castiel allowed himself these days. 

Tilting his head to the side, Castiel stared at Dean, waiting for him to open his eyes. He failed to move back out of Dean’s personal space, if anything edging closer in. His unease earlier had pushed him away, but now Cas found himself drawn in, eager to soothe the hurt he’d inflicted. 

In a way, he hoped, that didn’t involve answering in depth questions. Balthazar wasn’t the only one dealing in souls at the moment. 

At the distressing thought, Castiel’s wings betrayed him, their rustling audible behind his back.

Things had not gone well. Not at all. 

When Castiel had been called down from Heaven, what could only be called an inappropriate joy had flickered through the angel. This would be the first time that they spoke since Sam had jumped into the pit. True, Castiel had seen Dean a handful of times after, but it had always been under the cover of Grace, unseen to the human’s eyes. He had been on the warpath since his arrival in Heaven a year earlier, and still was, but there was denying it. 

He was happy to see Dean Winchester. 

However, Dean had been decidedly unhappy with him as he’d flapped away from the scene of betrayal. Even though Castiel knew that his treatment of Balthazar had been just, there was no explaining that to the look in Dean’s eyes as he’d extinguished the Holy Fire. Cas was an angel that could stand against anything, but in the face of that pain, he fled. The angel was currently floating in between worlds, avoiding both the threat of returning to Heaven’s battleground and the threat of a disappointed Dean. Castiel chose to call it assessing the situation; anyone else would have called it moping.

“I do not have time for this,” he murmured. Speaking one of the many human habits he’d failed to shake in his time as an incorporeal wave of energy. Even when he technically didn’t have a mouth, he found himself musing aloud. He was wasting time here on inconsequential things. These were precious seconds better used for tactical planning. No matter how upset his human friend, Castiel was duty-bound to return to heaven.

Castiel stretched his wings to take flight, ready to rise back to Heaven—and paused. And whether driven by a gnawing guilt of his own dealings with souls, or the “profound bond,” the angel succumbed to yet another weakness: impulsive behavior.

He waited a beat longer, shifting his wings to a different angle before shooting off. Not up to Heaven, but back down to Earth to where he could still feel Dean’s soul.

Information Post

Fandoms- Supernatural, Hetalia, American History (yes, this counts as an RP-able fandom) More will be added if people ask, because I know I’ve forgotten some

I am willing to RP ratings from G to NC-17, given that my RP partner is of legal age to be exposed to NC-17 and R-rated materials.

“No-Can-Do’s:” Wincest, other “real” incest (those who enjoy Hetalia pairings will understand what I mean. For example, I enjoy Canada/America, but not in AUs in which they are human brothers), sex with a minor, nonconsensual sexual acts, some AUs. 

This is just some bare-bones information for people who haven’t RPed with me before, and are curious. As more things arise, this post will be modified.