GABRIEL

A great big bag of tricks * Face it: you can't trick a trickster * Independent and highly selective Gabriel from supernatural * sideblog to duocorpora

[greatbigbagoftricks]

ashxnfeathers:

“That’s—” No one calls him that. Even the faculty around here, they all know him as Cas Novak. There’s no reason this stranger should know his full name — unless this is a very elaborate prank.

“I’m sorry, do I——have we met?”

Family. They always manage to break your heart, one way or another. Little Castiel, always curious, always a favourite --- he tries not to think about whether he did this to himself, or it was done to him.

     (What right does he have to judge? Didn’t he run away, too? So here they are, little boys lost, only one of them doesn’t even know it. Maybe it’s better that way.)

“Long time ago. When you were ---- younger. You wouldn’t remember.” He does his best to shakes himself from the grip of this heavy sadness, but the grin plastered across his face isn’t quite as bright as usual. “Though I tend to be pretty damn memorable. So, theology professor, huh?”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

everythingdies:

That’s never a good sign, someone looking for him. (Sam has to remind himself that he’s done nothing wrong, that all his paperwork is legitimate, that he hasn’t impersonated a federal officer in over a year.)

“Glad to be of service.”

“Quick question, kid --- how are you on your bible?”

Probably feels like a non-sequitur, but hey ---- they’re in the theology department, right? Maybe Sam knows the bible upside and back to front, spends his weekends cross-referencing inconsistencies. Gabriel doesn’t kinkshame.

     “If I’m gonna plagiarise myself, figure I should at least make sure       you don’t realise.”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

ashxnfeathers:

Either the man choked mid-quip, or there’s something on his face. He’d be offended, but the guy looks like he just got kneed in the gut.

“Well, better infamous than anything, I guess. Can I help you?”

   “Castiel?”

It’s not. It’s clearly not, not any more. Barely a whisper of remnant of grace. He’s been away from heaven for a long, long time. Long enough, apparently, for a brother to have Fallen.

[greatbigbagoftricks]

@ashxnfeathers

      “Well if it isn’t the infamous ---” Realisation, recognition, hit him like a freight train.

        “ --- Mr. Novak.”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

everythingdies:

“This is my breakfast.” He hefts the apple in his palm, curling his fingers around it. “And I didn’t think you were the Professor. This is Mr. Novak’s room.” He drops down to sit in an empty chair, watching the guy curiously.

“Can I help you with something?”

“You should try pancakes. Like a regular, healthy kid.”

Gabriel finishes poking around one of Mr. Novak’s shelves. Takes a seat in what is probably prof’s chair, kicks his feet up onto the desk, and makes himself comfortable.

“Well, I was looking for you.So technically, your existence is inherently helpful.“

[greatbigbagoftricks]

@everythingdies

     “Listen, kid, I’ve claimed to be a whole lotta things in my time, but a professor? Not one of them. So save the apple for teach. I’m more of the candy type, anyway.”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

@incognitomessenger

    “Well, I guess this is what you get if you accidentally break into a suspicious, maximum security government building, trip past the guys with the guys, stumble through a couple checkpoints, don’t listen to the guys talking about an alternate universe, and poke the machine that makes you feel all funny inside the closer you get.

         ----honestly, you’d think they’d take steps against this.”

[euclase-spn]

i found a color sketch of the previous drawing. i forgot i did this! i must have been high on cocoa puffs that day. i think i didn’t finish it because i was trying to figure out how to do their wings so it made sense (there must have been a lot of cocoa puffs).

i’m still gonna finish the lineart, but hey that’s cool.

[greatbigbagoftricks]

cruentusreus:

Stiles is currently very grateful that he’s usually the first to leave his last class of the day. And by leave, he means clumsily sprint out in a way that’s probably made a few of his classmates wonder. But he’s got emissary shit to deal with, and no time for socializing.

The point is that no one hears or sees a short dude calling him ‘Baby magic man’ from around the corner of the building.

“What’re you doing here?” He hisses, friendly as ever, but hurrying over to Gabriel. “Did something happen? And can you, please, never call me that again ever?”

“What, ‘baby magic man’? Too patronising? Alright, fully grown and adult magic man.”

Gabriel’s peering around like he’s expecting to be ambushed at any second, and as soon as Stiles is close enough, he’s got Gabriel’s hands dragging him more thoroughly around the corner, out of sight of no-one in particular.

“Yes, something happened. It’s sort of an emergency and I sort of need your help, and it’s not like school is actually important anyway, so let’s sort of go ---”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

godforsakenthing:

“Why 6?”

Dean feels too much all the time. It’s always been his problem. Too much heart. (There’s some comfort in knowing the angels that flank him, Castiel and Gabriel both, seem to be suffering from the same affliction.)

He’s exhausted with it, exhausted with carrying Sam’s hatred on his back. 

There’s a trust in handing this moment over, in having faith that Gabriel won’t stomp all over him for reaching out.

A trust that extends to listing his exhausted ass across the impala’s seat to drop his head in Gabe’s lap. 

“Because no heaven is complete without lava lamps, and Casa Erotica 6 provides an abundance.”

Some of them in rather suggestive shapes, and you know, maybe he should get some of those, just to spice up whatever hotel du jour Dean is staying in. Maybe leave them behind each time as a surprise for the next guests. You’re welcome.

Fingers slide into Dean’s hair, soothing pressure across scalp. If Dean wants to fall asleep here, then Gabriel won’t object. Guy deserves something like a safe space, somewhere that he can quit carrying the whole world on his shoulders.

     “Which you’d know, if you’d ever got around to watching ‘em.”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

    “ ----- here i am, rock me like a hurricane.”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

godforsakenthing:

@greatbigbagoftricks ( x )

“…Heaven is green grass and red striped tents.” He doesn’t know. He can’t speak with conviction. He’s never walked in God’s kingdom, but there is a tightness in his throat that he can’t deny. 

“Or-”

He has to stop, to swallow. To close his eyes. Dean’s expression softens. He smiles.

The closest he ever came to Heaven on Earth. To true happiness. 

“Heaven is a confessional on a Tuesday morning.”

“Should’ve figured heaven isn’t heaven without a dirty joke or two.”

Don’t be fooled by that dry tone, there’s real warmth hiding in that chest of his, and soft amber eyes can’t quite hide the dance of it. Maybe there’s a little corner of Dean’s heaven that’s set aside for him, for the idea of him. Maybe he’ll be able to come knocking without feeling too selfish.

“Always wondered what my heaven would look like. Y’know, if I got one. Pretty sure it’s the set of Casa Erotica 6.”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

ashxnfeathers:

Disbelief leaves a crack on a mask he hadn’t quite managed to hide behind yet. A breath stolen from borrowed lungs, what could have passed as a laugh from anyone else.

If Gabriel wanted to save him, he should have come for him in Heaven. He should have rescued him from Naomi’s mind games and what Dean had so aptly named ‘Bible Camp’. Should have stood between him and Raphael, when stepping an inch over the line had pushed their brother to throw him across Heaven for his ‘arrogance’.

But it wasn’t Gabriel who stepped in. It was the Winchesters — they saved him.

Stay and be brave. Or run and be alive.

It’s a laughably easy choice to make.

“Then I will die.” Castiel stands proud between Gabriel and the rest of Sam’s kingdom, between his brother and the way out. He’s held doubts about many things in his long life; his current standing with the Boy King and Cain Reborn is not one of them.

“At least it’ll be for something that I chose.”

Here’s the thing: Gabriel doesn’t want him to die.

Gabriel doesn’t want any of his brothers to die. He wasn’t even all that keen on Lucifer dying, and there had been a lost cause if he had ever seen one. He broke himself into Hell to try and find a way to end it, to try and snuff this war out before it ever began.

He drops himself back down to  the ground, eyes closed and something trying to crawl its way up this borrowed throat. If his death would accomplish anything, maybe he’d root around and find enough dregs of bravery to offer it. Luckily, he doesn’t have to face the possibility that he hasn’t got enough, because dying would achieve precisely nothing, except maybe his headache would stop.

“You got some messed up priorities, little brother. You think this is freedom? This is a noose you’re wrapping around your own neck like you want to feel it tighten.”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

@cruentusreus

    “Psssssssttttt.”

A totally subtle and not at all suspicious way of gaining someone’s attention. He’s even doing a secretive little wave that makes him immediately obvious, beckoning the druid over with a tip of head.

       “Hey, hey. Baby magic man. Over here.”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

godforsakenthing:

I don’t care. 

Dean trembles with it, with the cool rush of relief that threatens to take him over. Gabriel doesn’t care. (Of course, Gabe wasn’t there. He didn’t see the things Dean did. The things he said.)

“I let Sam get bit by a vampire. I hit on Cas.” Hit on is the understatement of the century. But it’s all coming out now. He has to confess, to try and hold onto some of that goodness Gabe sees in him. 

“I fucked with Sam at every turn. I touched him.” His throat locks up on that one, and Dean buries his face in his hands. It’s not dark enough to escape the memory of every scuffle Dean twisted, hands against his brother’s thighs, his hips, skating up the line of his stomach. 

“God only knows what I would have said to you, if you were there.”

Dean has some terrifying ideas about that. Stripping away all the fondness, all the care and love, there’s still an undercurrent of lust that he can’t escape when it comes to the archangel.

“I don’t think there’s enough Hail Mary’s in the world for that.”

“Don’t let it get around, but Mary was totally overrated.”

Sam’s not a vampire and his little brother could do with loosening up a little, and yeah, he’s got no justification for the touching thing, but soulless is soulless and he won’t hold Dean accountable. Maybe he should, but he won’t. Refuses.

“And I’m not just saying that because of the sandal thing. Though, not gonna lie: still a little bitter.”

Different vessel, back then, when everything was all blinding light and eyes of fire and the ring of heavenly trumpets. It was the done thing to be tall and beautiful and imposing, and really, who wasn’t going to start beating a guy with a sandal when he’s six-foot-something and blazing with divine flames? He prefers it this way, even if it means that when he sidles up towards Dean, he has to tip his head back to keep looking him in the eyes.

“Divine forgiveness, free of charge. Not your fault. Devil made you do it.”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

makeitlatxr:

Right. Because it’s likely she’ll find out before an archangel does. 

Still, it’s nice to know she’s not the only one without a clue. The only working theory she has is from Dean, and while she has no reasons to doubt his logic, she’s also pretty out of the loop on all the ridiculous end-of-the-world stuff that’s gone down since she died.

“God’s sister.” It sounds ridiculous when you think it, let alone when you say it out loud, and the look on her face makes her opinion on Amara’s existence pretty clear. “At least, that’s what Dean thinks.”

Gabriel pulls a face that screams oops, awkward. The discomfort of family reunions aside, there’s really nothing to say in the face of the being that you were created to wage war against. Hi Auntie, how’s it going, glad you escaped your eternal exile. Let’s catch up sometime.

“Pretty soon this bunker’ll have more of the risen than judgement day. I keep trying to put in a good word for David Bowie, but so far no dice. You two bumping uglies, yet?”

[greatbigbagoftricks]

If I go to heaven, will it stop hurting so much? About Sam?

    “Yes.”

There’s no hesitation in that answer. Heaven is not the place for suffering. It is not the place for hurt or regret or the dark-ichor sickness that Dean believes oozes through his veins. 

    “Heaven is your happiest moments. Doesn’t matter how brief the moment was,     how short-lived, you get it forever. No expiry date.” His lips quirk up. There’s     always something of this, with Dean. Openness, uncharacteristic, tempered     by the familiar sharpness, the unapologetic humour. This time, maybe it’s a     little something more.

     He doesn’t often poke around in Dean’s head. Anyone’s, for that matter. But a     soul is a soul and there’s an understanding inherent to his kind, archangel who     was made to bring the Word of God to mankind, to know what it is they dreamed     of and how to bring them to the fold, how to cast them out.

     “Heaven is the sunny day driving with the wind in Sam’s hair, before you left. It’s      the way he laughed when you started singing a bar too early, and it’s the way he      looked at you like even looking like an idiot, you were the coolest thing he’d ever      seen. Heaven is the night you set off fireworks and watched the colours burst in      Sam’s eyes and felt like they were behind your ribs. Heaven is the moment you      saw in that church, before he opened his mouth and everything spiralled.”

      Gabriel hopes there’ll be a little piece of Dean’s heaven with something of himself      in it, but he won’t presume. Dean Winchester love his brother. A truth that nothing      in the world -- not God, not Lucifer, not anybody or anything -- could ever change.

“Heaven is the place where you’re allowed it all. Heaven is the place without any Hail Marys.”