of all the rules at camp chitaqua, there are two that go without saying: you don’t speak openly about that something between dean winchester and castiel, and if you slander the ex-angel’s promiscuity around their leader, you’ll get your nose broken
word slowly spreads, as it is wont to do. break the rules, leave camp with a broken arm, tell the tale, and other camps start hearing tell about this fearless leader and his unsecret lover. some say he killed a guy for the honor of the man he loves, but then some say it was two he’d killed, and others said three. some tell the story of how he slayed an half an army after his broken boy was wounded.
by the time the tale has spun it’s way across the country, molded and spread from camp to camp, each retelling unique with as many shades to the tale as stars in the sky. they say the leader is a warrior of heaven owned by the human boy he fell for. they say he will destroy anything, kill anyone if the boy asks nicely, celestial guard dog for a hollowed out man. they say his eyes shine bright white, or bright gold, or bright green.
they say his voice is like the thunder. they say he spits fire and breathes destruction. they say wolves howl for him.