#trueform!gabriel

And then boom the true form of archangel Gabriel in my interpretation

I wanted to do something anthropomorphic, but still reflecting this chthonic and frightening, but also with references... so Gabriel seems to be very close to the image of a man, but he hides his face behind the wings, and no one knows what this face is

He creates as many wings and arms as he wants, because in general he can change his shape any way he wants, but we‘re tryna find some kind of stability here

A little sketch of a drawing of Angel Gabriel. I want to make it in a big format.

But in the time, I want to show you this.

Thank you!! I’m glad you like them...though tbh I’ve been very lazy when it comes to drawing these guys so I put a bit more effort into my sketches for this one. 

Some trueform angels wip! When I’m done with the easier stuff I’ll go back on them! 1st one is Balthazar, 2nd is Gabriel, 3rd is Michael. As a size reference, I think Bal is more or less Cas’ size (320m) when Gabriel is more 800m and Michael is the biggest. 

It's hardly a secret. Sam isn't exactly subtle about it, even though he seems to think he's hiding his reactions, and Gabriel decides not to make an issue of it. If Sam ever wants to bring it up, that's up to him.

Incidental encounters are one thing – posters, television, the occasional graffiti. But it's another situation altogether when Sam is getting intentionally antagonized, and Gabriel doesn't tend to respond well to that, to say the least.

It's a few days before Halloween, and a raucous bunch of teenagers are making their way down the sidewalk in the waning dusk. Their faces are made up in macabre paleness, their features exaggerated with paint and makeup. They're stalking other pedestrians, leering creepily and making rude comments and occasionally boxing someone in against a storefront, harassing them until either a can of mace or a threat to call the police sends them cackling off to their next victim.

Sam is trying valiantly to ignore their approach as he and Gabriel come up on the restaurant where they were planning to grab a late dinner. Gabriel has been calling it "date night" all day, while Sam has kept rolling his eyes and smiling and shushing him because "we can't have a date night, Gabe, we're on a case," but obviously it's date night because Gabriel decided and he's an archangel so his decisions are to-the-end-of-the-universe final, and that's that.

And no group of asshole kids is gonna mess it up.

Sam's body is exuding every telltale sign of anxiety, so much that Gabriel can almost smell it, as one of the gang notices them. Gabriel has no doubt about the types of slurs that are sure to be fired in their direction, and he grips Sam's hand a bit tighter as the pack of clown-faced miscreants hones in on them. Just as they enter jeering distance, Gabriel twitches his fingers and throws a filter on the other passers-by perceptions.

His brows drop dangerously as his eyes narrow, his shoulders hunch as though coiling for attack, and he draws in a breath and roars. The reality around him cracks with light and flame, eyes and fangs and feathers, molten gold and blue-white heat, screeching, surging, thundering. The ground quakes, the air vibrates in deafening pulses, and "terror" doesn't even begin to describe the mob's reaction.