waywardfeathered

[waywardfeathered]

Castiel has been moved to my multi @lanternlit

As emotional as this move is for me - Cas has had a solo blog since 2018, and he played a big part on my roleplaying journey on tumblr - realistically, running four rp blogs has not been working for me. As much as I enjoy him having his own blog, him having his own blog is probably the biggest reason why I write him so rarely. So while I am giving up on the sense of him being such an important character to me to have a blog of his own... I am hoping moving him to a multimuse will make writing him feel like it used to, again.

I aim to:

Follow everyone I have ongoing interactions with (from the past few years, even), or asks I want to reply to from, on my multi, so I can reply to old memes there and continue our threads there, if we remain mutuals

Re-read everyone's guidelines before giving them a follow from my multimuse, to make sure neither of us has made changes that clash

Thus, if you see this post days later, and haven't gotten a follow, I might just be slow reading people's guidelines, etc.

If you see this and want to follow the multi, of course feel free. Please do read the guidelines there, if you do, though.

I would love to remain mutuals and continue or begin writing with you, but of course no hard feelings if we leave things here.

Either way - thank you for having been a part of my dashboard here. <3

[waywardfeathered]

[waywardfeathered]

Like a telescope I’ll pull you so close Til no space lies in between

[waywardfeathered]

Cas can’t risk harming the girl, so he begins to circle towards a vantage point, where she’s not in between him and the ghost. But the spirit  reaches for the girl,  sending her to understandable but frustrating panic.

With her grabbing for him in panic, the spirit slowly following behind her, Cas takes a swing with the iron poker, forcing it to disappear. He stumbles a step, on instinct holding the girl close, wanting to protect her.

❝ It’s a spirit. A particularly restless one, ❞    Cas says, though he can’t imagine how the explanation could be reassuring. No use making up lies, now, though.    ❝ Let’s get you out of here⸺ ❞    But as he says that, he hears heavy doors slam shut at a distance, the echo of a lock louder than it should be. The message is pretty clear, though: no use trying for the front doors.    ❝ Let’s go, ❞    he says, guiding her to walk with him, anyway. Perhaps he can get her out through a window. Almost as if remembering himself, he adds, softer,    ❝ What is your name? ❞

@waywardfeathered --- cont. from here bc tumblr is rude

She shivers as the room turns frigid... both from fear and the sudden chill. His warning makes her freeze, even though her mind doesn't turn immediately to the paranormal. For a moment, birdie assumes there's some other intruder behind her and she listens for any sound that would give them away. No one could sneak up without crunching pieces of fallen debris, she's positive.

But, those thoughts go out the broken window as she feels the unmistakable curling of fingers on her shoulder... long, sharp, cold, colder than any person's hand should be. And, she can't help it. Birdie screams and lunges forward, grabbing at the stranger like he was the only safety to be found in the whole building, and spins to face whoever, whatever had grabbed her. And nothing. Empty, freezing air.

" What the... what the hell, what the hell --- ? "

[waywardfeathered]

gestures that get me going

many of these are meant to be spicy (i've been on my horny bullshit lately LOL), but some can be used in any kind of interactions, be them fluffy, smutty, antagonistic, romantic, anything. feel free to combine prompts & change/add any pronouns/descriptor words/etc that may be useful! softer things are more towards the bottom. add '+↺' to reverse sender and receiver!

[ SHIELD ] — sender steps in front of receiver protectively [ HEADLOCK ] — sender puts receiver in a headlock from behind [ COLLAR ] — sender grabs receiver by the collar of their shirt to pull their faces close together [ TIE ] — sender grabs receiver by their tie to pull their faces close together [ HAIR ] — sender pulls receiver's head back by their hair from behind [ MOUTH ] — sender puts their palm over receiver's mouth from behind to keep them quiet [ BUCKLE ] — sender begins to undo receiver's belt buckle [ LOOP ] — sender threads their fingers into the belt loops on receiver's pants [ POCKET ] — sender sticks their fingers into the pockets of receiver's pants (bonus: specify if they're the front pockets or the back pockets) [ BUTTON ] — sender undoes the buttons of receiver's shirt [ THROAT ] — sender lightly grazes along receiver's throat from behind [ CHOKE ] — sender puts a light to moderate amount of pressure on receiver's throat from behind [ CHEST ] — sender lightly grazes along receiver's chest from behind [ SIT ] — sender gently squeezes receiver's ass when they sit on sender's lap [ TOUCH ] — sender feels up receiver's abs [ SMOOTH ] — sender gently rubs their palm along receiver's bare ass [ MASSAGE ] — sender gently rubs their palms along receiver's bare back [ RUB ] — sender gently rubs their palms along receiver's bare thighs [ FEEL ] — sender gently rubs their palm between receiver's legs [ LICK ] — sender gently licks along receiver's nipples [ EASE ] — sender encourages receiver's legs open [ PULL ] — sender pulls receiver's pants/undergarments down out of the way of their ass [ WORSHIP ] — sender kisses and licks along receiver's tattoo(s) (specify if receiver has multiple) [ RING ] — sender kisses and licks along receiver's piercing(s) (specify if receiver has multiple) [ NIBBLE ] — sender nibbles against the shell/lobe of receiver's ear [ BITE ] — sender gently bites down on receiver's lower lip as they kiss [ SMOOCH ] — sender presses gentle kisses down the back of receiver's neck [ KISS ] — sender presses a bunch of little kisses along receiver's face [ GRAB ] — sender playfully squeezes some stray pudge on receiver's belly [ PLAY ] — sender playfully squeezes some stray pudge on receiver's thigh [ POKE ] — sender grabs onto receiver's love handles [ LIE ] — sender rests their head on receiver's chest to hear their heartbeat [ LINK ] — sender hooks their pinkie with receiver's [ REST ] — sender rests their chin on receiver's shoulder from behind [ GAME ] — sender traces lines to connect receiver's moles/other body marks into a bigger shape [ COVER ] — sender covers receiver's eyes from behind before removing them to reveal a big surprise [ WRITE ] — sender writes 'i love you' with their finger on an exposed part of receiver's skin (bonus: specify where)

[waywardfeathered]

Cas definitely offered the bit about Miranda doing well as a courtesy rather than an honest assesment of her stress levels. She is doing well in the sense that she’s doing all she can, and more, for her sister (which isn’t much at the moment, but that isn’t her fault), but he can tell she’s starting to spiral.

He rests his hand firmly onto her shoulder, frustrated with himself that  he can’t do anything to help,  though not letting it show (this isn’t about him).

It’s the ever-persistent need to do right by the people he cares about, and the galaxy in general; when he can’t, it’s not easy for him to let that go. He can relate in having a younger sister of his own, as well, Anna having once been stuck with their parents while Cas and Gabriel were free of them. He’s not even technically skilled enough to poke into the Alliance database, just in case they knew something. She’s better than him with that, so all he’s been able to do has been to offer his military ID so she can dig around.

His hand slides down her arm, grips it enough to tug at her, so lightly the gesture might go unnoticed, wanting to pull her closer.    ❝ I could try to see if I can get a hold of Joker, again. If he has access to the Normandy, and EDI... ❞    Cas suspects the Alliance brass are their communications blocked again, much like back when Shepard was dead. He seems to have way too much trouble getting a hold of any of his fellow Alliance military affiliated allies... Maybe they worry they’d cause issues with Shepard’s imprisonment if they could team up freely.

@serabellyms

   ⬐ @waywardfeathered ⬎

❝  you’re doing well.  you’re just discouraged and tired.  ❞

Discouraged and tired, huh? Talk about putting things mildly. Very mildly, she might add. She’d spent the last few days scouring the extranet, reaching out to contacts, and doing her damnedest to be quiet about it in the process. But she’d found nothing so far on where her sister had gone. The last she’d known, Oriana was attending school to pursue the violin professionally, with a secondary degree in theatre with the idea in mind that she could be a professional comedian… and perhaps blend the two. A wild idea, of course, but one that Miranda had supported—so long as Oriana was smart enough to ensure she had a fallback in case things didn’t work out.

But so far, she hadn’t found enough. Much of that had been sleepless nights, with the lack of sleep making her irritable, pacing, even jumpy. Even the slightest noise in the apartment next door, out in the hall, any of it was enough to make her tense up. After all, she was practically surrounded by people who would be obligated to arrest if not kill her for her association with Cerberus. Being left alone while he ran errands was even worse. Alone, she paced. Alone, it was all she focused on.

“No, I’m really not,” she admitted, huffing in defeat as she sat down in the chair. “She’s missing, and I can’t find a damned thing on where she is. Not a single lead, nothing. It’s as if she just vanished—and there’s no doubt my father is involved.” And the people she’d have gone to involving her sister—Niket and Shepard—were either dead, or locked up. And even if she went to visit the Commander, it was doubtful that Shepard would know anything that would be helpful, not while in lockdown.

[waywardfeathered]

PROTECTIVE PROMPTS

"Are you alright?"

"Did they hurt you?"

"Can you stand?"

"They won't get away with this."

"No one's ever going to hurt you again. I promise."

"Sorry it took so long to find you."

"Don't say you're fine. There are bruises all over you!"

"Sweetheart, I need you to open your eyes for me."

"Here. Drink this. You're dehydrated."

"Tell me the last thing you remember."

"You look like you haven't slept in days."

"I'll kill them for doing this to you."

"Did they just push you?"

"All that matters is I'm here now and we're together."

"I don't care that I'm in danger. It's you that I'm worried about."

"No one's going to find us here. We're safe."

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."

"If he touches you again, I'll kill him."

"I trust you ... but I don't trust them with you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll be right behind you."

"Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand."

"Shh, it's just me."

"Did they lock you in here?"

"Did they fucking touch you?"

"If anyone comes through that door to hurt you, I'll deal with it."

[waywardfeathered]

i look like i was dressed by dean w.inchester

[waywardfeathered]

life hack to roleplaying with me: if you’ve got a fucked up idea there’s a 8234768123763712% chance i’ll go for it. seriously. don’t test me.

[waywardfeathered]

@serabellyms said: ❝ you've actually made me feel like a person again, like i'm ... normal. ... thank you. ❞ - from Kat, maybe ME3?

in case you didn't know    /    ACCEPTING ↷

A wry smile tugs at his lips. There’s an irony to it: he’s never felt normal, himself. A person, though? Yes, he thinks she’s helped him feel the same, in that. People, actively, made him not a person for years, after they took him from Akuze. For his rescue to be brought on by someone who had gone through the same initial mission gone wrong, both of them having assumed the other dead... and, now, to have been a part of her team through the Collectors, the Omega 4 Relay, and, here, in the height of the war...

The galaxy is going to hell, but he does feel like a person.

❝ You’ve done no less for me, ❞    he says. She’s come so far, since being that 23-year-old on Akuze. He touches her arm, eyes softening. ❝ I know everything is messed up, out there, but... I’m glad you’re the one leading us. It can’t be easy... but I have hope in our chances, because it’s you, at the frontlines. You’ve accomplished incredible things, Kat. I have absolute faith in you. ❞

[waywardfeathered]

Which planet?  Castiel stares, though this is not different from a moment ago. His expression doesn’t change, but he tilts his head to the side an inch, slowly. At least she speaks English? But what kind of a...

❝ We’re on Earth, ❞    he replies, cautiously, as he narrows his eyes. He had been reminded of an astronaut’s suit. But this person talks about location as if it was everyday for humans to visit different planets. He’s pretty sure he’d know if that were the case.

Life out there? Beyond what he knows to be true? It’s not an impossible thought; he’s long since quit trusting his siblings or his father when it comes to what is and isn’t possible. But she has a human soul, and humans surely don’t exist outside of Earth?

❝ Lebanon, Kansas, ❞    Cas clarifies. Pauses, before adding,    ❝ The United States of America. ❞

Maybe she’s just confused. Maybe she’s unwell. Or, maybe something happened to her, something that could be... his job to figure out. He’s currently alone, at the bunker (out to do some shopping; he likes to keep a fully stocked kitchen for Sam and Dean), as having quick access to all the lore they are storing can come in handy, in case the brothers need something and call.

He should help. Take her with him. It doesn’t really seem like she has anywhere else to go, anyway, and he’d like to at least find out if there’s something suspicious about her state. Still gazing at her, he offers,    ❝ Do you need help? A place to stay at, food, water, a cell phone to call someone...? ❞    His expression has softened into a concerned frown.

The man is... odd, she can't help but think as they stare at each other, a wry smile tugging at her lips even as she realises part of their current issue. It's easy to forget, while living in space, that not everyone has universal translators when it comes to the Earth or her colonies. Not that she agrees, given many of those who refuse to use the technology are doing so out of pure xenophobic bias, but she knows that's not always the case. She just hopes it's not the case with this particular stranger.

"Sorry about that. I wasn't sure which planet we're on, or where even on that planet, and I forget not everyone has universal translators. Galactic Standard is usually the safest bet to start with on most worlds. Guess it's not as popular here, though..." Maybe a remote colony? But which one?

Glancing back down at the still dead hardware from her suit in her hands, she sighs wearily as she realises she's going to need an external power supply to even hope to be able to revive it, and sets it aside before standing, offering, "Thank you, for the coat. I'm Isabela Shepard, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance."

[waywardfeathered]

There’s something  off about her,  though Cas doesn’t think it’s her, responsible for all these bodies. He doesn’t have time for a confrontation with an outsider. He could just let her shoot him; unless she has bullets made of melted down angel blades or such, he’d shrug the shot off easy enough. But something about her... a human soul, but strange, somehow. That, and if she’s an innocent in this, he doesn’t want her to get killed because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d rather convince her to trust him.

❝ I didn’t do this, ❞    he says, slowly putting his blade on the ground, eyes on her as he crouches and straightens up again.    ❝ I’m after whoever did. There’s a trail of dead bodies and I intend to put a stop to it. ❞

THERE WERE FEW THINGS IN THE WORLD that put her on edge. most of the list consisted of people she'd rather keep at least five mile distance from and hoped they never had to cross paths for the wrong reasons. the guy in the trench coat had quickly become one of those people. the bodies on the ground put aside, she felt like she was going to choke on the amount of power that radiated off the man.

" nope, stay over there, " she said with clenched teeth. death hummed under her skin, shaking its metaphysical cage to reach him. over her ( hopefully ) dead body. she held her gun up still, though she was sure they both knew it was for show at this point. " put the weapon down and start talking. "

@waywardfeathered liked for a starter!

[waywardfeathered]

He hesitates whether to offer any explanation as to why he doesn’t want to be called Castiel, long enough she’s moving the conversation along before he can make up his mind. It’s hard to know  how he’s supposed to feel about her.  Yes, he wants her to leave him alone, but... he’s curious by nature, of other people. He’s always felt like an observer rather than a participant, with fellow humans as much as with other species, different somehow, foreign, an alien among everyone. That feeling has made him interested in figuring people out. Maybe that is why he’s continuing to engage, rather than trying to wrap up the conversation and walk away.

❝ Cas is more my first name than Castiel ever was, ❞    he chooses to say, finally breaking eye-contact. Only his parents ever actively call him Castiel... and he either panics, or goes cold, every time he sees one of their names in his comms. After all this time.    ❝ In any case, Cas isn’t a nickname. ❞    Yes, he could just change his name officially. But his parents would never leave him alone about it, if they found out; they had named him and his siblings after angels and/or biblical figures for a reason. Anna and Gabriel, though, are much less obscure. Cas has had to answer questions about his name since he was a child.

He’s not going to say whether he’s all right with her calling her that, or not. It’s a little familiar, but no more so than most people consider their first names to be. In the Alliance military, it’s mostly always been Krushnic, or just his rank. He corrects everyone who says Castiel. Here, though, most of the people he hangs out with call him Cas; he believes Joker did so first, making up the supposed nickname before even knowing it was preferred to Cas all along.

Miranda gets points for how she handles his name, but that doesn’t mean Cas has to warm up to her. He looks at her, again.    ❝ Do you even know what they did to me? ❞    he challenges, a harsh edge to his voice, again.    ❝ Taking things too far? Is that what you call torturing someone for several years for? Is that what you call this? ❞    He brushes at his hair at a spot near his temple to both direct her attention and make the scar better visible, at one of the points he knows by heart, not needing to look for the little, circular scar, one of many around his head where they had drilled into his skull and directly fucked with his brain. With him awake, screaming.    ❝ How can you justify an organisation associated with something like that? Rogue cells? Seems to me they’re more the rule than the exception. ❞    Not just him and Toombs, not just Akuze, but every fucked up Cerberus experiment Shepard had had to stop, two years ago.

@serabellyms

Miranda could tell that Castiel was chafing a little under her authority. Regardless, she had to maintain that authority; she wasn’t about to let him push her around just because he didn’t like her. She was loyal and dedicated to Shepard so long as Shepard retained her dedication to their goal: saving human colonies. There were certainly aspects of Cerberus’ history that Miranda didn’t agree with, but they were not operations that she had any involvement in. Some things had certainly gone south… and while she’d yet to speak of it, Akuze was one of them.

But what intrigued her most was the way he responded to the name; she’d used his first name to be polite, but informal. After all, Cerberus wasn’t much for formalities, and she suspected calling him Cas wouldn’t sit well. But the way he asked was what caught her guard; he wasn’t upset, but he was polite about it. Interesting. There must be a reason, yet he understands I mean no malice by it. Her only response is a nod; she’ll do her best to remember it, at the very least.

“I’m sorry. I meant it to be… informal. Friendlier, I guess. Cerberus isn’t particularly keen on ranks; I figured calling you Cas would be too friendly.” Her tone was genuine for once; she’d meant nothing by her choice, only that she wanted to be friendly. After all, she wouldn’t let just anyone call her Miri, but she wouldn’t chafe if someone called her Miranda.

“Frankly, I’d be more worried if you were loyal to Cerberus.” It was an honest statement; she’d expect him to be wary, at the very least. “I won’t pretend that Cerberus doesn’t have a coloured history; I’m well aware of it. Some of it I understand; some of it I believe were certain cells taking things too far. Some I believe our intentions were… misinterpreted. And, well, it’s not like we’d have allowed you part of this mission without being made aware of ” She wouldn’t specify which; her opinions on those were none of Castiel’s business.

[waywardfeathered]

𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬 : a little assortment of action prompts for muses who may or may not hate each other. remember to tag your blood and violence. add +reverse to swap the roles.

[ 𝐧𝐨 𝐚𝐢𝐫 ] : sender is holding the receiver by the throat. [ 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐥 ] : receiver is on their knees in front of the victorious sender. [ 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 ] : exhausted from a battle, the receiver gives up resistance. [ 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 ] : sender attempts to stab the receiver. [ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 ] : sender grabs the receiver by the hair. [ 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 ] : receiver is being held as captive by the sender. [ 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩 ] : receiver finds the sender trapped and unable to escape from them. [ 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧 ] : sender is lifting captured receiver's chin up. [ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 ] : sender breaks one of receiver's bones. [ 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝 ] : sender has made the receiver bleed. [ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 ] : sender forces the receiver to watch their loved one die. [ 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 ] : sender pins the receiver against a wall out of sheer rage. [ 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 ] : sender spares receiver's life. [ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ] : sender warns the receiver to not antagonize them. [ 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 ] : sender and receiver are sharing a kiss that draws blood. [ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 ] : receiver is trying to win sender's trust in order to escape later. [ 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ] : facing a greater threat, sender and receiver must work together.

[waywardfeathered]

Send “Oh no you DON’T”   to grab my muse by the back of their collar to stop them from doing something stupid

[waywardfeathered]

SPN Scenery: Driving Impala (Day Version)

[waywardfeathered]

@bloodsalted said: ❰❰ GAZE ❱❱ our muses make extended eye contact

An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme    /    ACCEPTING ↷

Castiel is so used to  being the observer,  that it takes him a moment to realise Dean is gazing back at him.

He takes a slow step back, remembering personal space, not quite sure how much of that he should be giving to make Dean comfortable. But he keeps his eyes on the human, piercing. Unsure of himself, on the inside, but on the outside perfectly unfazed.

He’s... Before all this. Before the Winchesters. Before getting Dean out of Hell. Cas used to be posted on Earth,  watching.  Before everything in Heaven became gradually more and more chaotic  ⸺  before God had left, he guesses. Some of his own memories are spotty; things missing, other things being blurry and tied together even when they were millenia apart... But he remembers centuries of just... human watching. Invisible, without a vessel, around the globe, watching. Occassionally reporting back, mostly just watching, in solitude... though it never felt like he was alone, so fascinated by humanity.

His siblings are wrong, he thinks. Claiming it was Dean who turned him  rebellious,  who made him  fall in love with humanity.  He’s always had questions and doubts; he’s always loved humans. It’s just that Dean was the first who got him to act on those thoughts. Perhaps they’re correct, then, in the end, his siblings.

Castiel gazes. Not concerned about any awkwardness in the unblinking eye-contact.

He wants to study Dean Winchester, to understand him, to understand himself.

❝ What is it, about you, specifically? ❞    he muses, though he’s not really asking Dean.    ❝ How did you make me turn against my own kind? ❞    He’s not accusing, not regretting; only searching for an answer he does not expect to find.