This is a private and independent roleplay blog for Castiel of the CW's Supernatural. By default, all interactions will be taking place between the seasons four and eight, however, i am also willing to write content set prior to Castiel meeting with the Winchesters! Owing to the nature of the seriest there will be explicit content present on this blog, such as blood and violence. According to the show's establishment, there will also be religious themes. I will try to tag all triggers accordingly (e.g. #blood / ) ! Nevertheless, you should be aware that such content will appear frequently in my writing.
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Regarding my portrayal, I will take into consideration the circumstances under which the characters function. Meaning that the change within the human world, hell, and heaven alike will play a great role in how I choose to write him. This applies to all verses, inside and outside canon ! That being said, I greatly encourage OC and crossover interaction !
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I like to take my time with replies - therefore, pace at which these are published can vary widely and is not necessarily in chronological order. Whatever I feel the most inspiration or motivation for will have priority. Threads that exceed three paragraphs may sit for far longer periods of time. I also consider this blog as semi - active, as my main focus lies on this blog. If you feel a thread might have gotten lost, feel free to approach me ! Please do refrain from pestering me about an interaction, though. We’re all here for fun !
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Shipping does in no way present itself as a primary concern to me. In fact, I value non - romantic relationships, rather, especially when taking into account that I think of Castiel as nonsexual being. For the sake of my own comfort, also, I will under no condition write smut or anything of sexual context ! My interpretation of the character will be strictly demiromantic / asexual. Please respect this and do NOT try to force smut or smut - related content onto me !
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I’d ask of you to avoid stealing or imitating content such as icons, graphics, or writing, as these are of my own creation and not up for public usage ! Behavior such as hunting me down for unfollowing / not following back will inevitably result in you being blocked and, if it applies, removed from Skype.
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Lastly, I do suffer from some mental illnesses, BPD being the most prominent one, which makes it difficult to keep consistent activty. Please do note that I sometimes simply won't have the energy to write. Similarly, this applies to OOC conversations. If I don't respond / do so only sparsely, please first take into consideration that social interaction can be very draining to me. Thank you ❤
(if any questions occur, please feel free to ask !)
DOSSIER
full name: castiel.
alias: cas, cassie, clarence
gender: nonbinary (prefers male pronouns)
age: unknown.
birth date: unknown.
birthplace: heaven?
species: angel.
affiliations: heaven (formerly), the winchester brothers
PHYSICAL TRAITS
eye colour: blue
hair colour: dark brown
height: 180cm / 319m
weight: unknown
build: athletic
as soon as cas’ fingers reach down and grip the curved glass, dean’s lips quirk up into a small smile. his eyes silently trace the movement: a reflexive swallow, the tilt of his jaw, the gentle setting of the glass back on the polished table surface. dean’s gaze flickers up to meet cas’ own and he chuckles again, short and sharp, at the slight watering of his friend’s eyes.
‘ alcohol is the answer to ANY man’s problem, trust me. plus, it makes you do funny dumb shit. ’
swiftly, dean grasps the bottle – a cheap corner store whiskey, since they aren’t exactly doing this for the pleasant taste – and refills both of their shot glasses, leaning forward with a boyish gleam in his bright eyes.
‘ an’ you get the RULES, right ? if i’m right, then you gotta take the shot, and vice versa – an’ no lyin’. you gotta be honest.
first question: did jesus really have long hair an’ a beard ?’
again he reached for the glass, a tight line on his lips like the horizon mirrored in his features. and setting back into the seat like his spine was made of early sunsets. and like hazy scenes the image almost appears before his eyes as he tries to recall, and it had been so long, he thinks. what was only a small part of castiel’s lifespan now felt like the eternity a human could have never dreamed.
with lidded eyes he appeared to be gazing holes into the marble tiles. like staring into the distance of what artists would create their personal angels from.
it was the nod that contradicted his answer, that jesus was, in fact, a carpenter and the long hair would have gotten in his way of work.
dean’s already downed one shot, edging the other towards his friend — a pre-game buzz, he’d called it before. the rules have been explained twice now; an element of uncertainty still clings to the former angel, but dean waggles his eyebrows and nudges the shot glass a little further across the table.
‘ come on, man, it’ll be fun. ’
skeptical gaze was fixed on the glass, the liquid inside —––wavering from side to side like the doubt he had. LIKE A DEER IN THE HEADLIGHTS, caught between the tides. not sure about back and forth and insecure about the limits to the ebb of his life. the answer was no to if he was ready to exploit humanity in every aspect. but yet would he dare to forgive those flaws. if only it would help him forget them too.
digits reach for and grasp for the shot glass. and alcohol downed with an aftermath burn back deep in his throat with what felt like a cough itching to escape.
