“cas being protective of demon!dean and demon!dean not being a dick ｡◕‿◕｡”
So, I’m gonna do it.
- It’s Pronounced “Deanmon” -
Once upon a time there was a nerdy little angel dude named Castiel, and Castiel was a happy nerdy little angel dude. He was content with his lot in life. Watching people, observing the world, the family business.
But then, in the crevices of doom and despair, the angel Castiel spotted a light. A shining light he had never seen before.
“What’s that?” Castiel asked, turning to his brother. Gabriel merely shrugged.
“Looks to be a soul. Strange to see something so bright like that in hell, though,” remarked Gabriel. Castiel agreed. It was quite strange to see something…so pure in hell.
“I’m gonna go check it out,” said Castiel, standing up on his cloud. Gabriel snorted. “Good luck, little bro,” he said, snickering as he watched Castiel go.
Dean was an average demon…sort of.
Okay, so he came about his demonhood in strange ways, he knows that. He knows not all demons come from the Mark of Cain, but hell, that didn’t make Dean any less of a friggin’ demon. And he was good at his job, dangit. Right hand man of the King of Hell himself, Dean was the most loyal demon a King could ask for.
He had no problem being his demon self…until out of no where, the most beautiful creature appeared before him.
The creature was warm. Dean felt like a firefly and the creature, a bug zapper, feeling himself moving towards the creature without his own consent. The creature only tilted his head. “S-Sup,” said Dean weakly, cursing his lack of suave.
The creature grabbed Dean by the arm and began to fly. Dean panicked. He hated heights. Heights reminded him of planes, and planes, well…Dean has a bone or two to pick with planes. “W-what are you doing?” asked the Demon, trying not to show that he was a completely wuss with what was going on.
Suddenly, light shone on Dean for the first time since he could remember. It was warm and…was he in a graveyard. The creature just smiled. “I gripped you tightly and raised you from perdition,” the creature said, simply smiling.
All Dean could do was stare in awe. “Who are you?” asked Dean, stunned.
“Castiel, Angel of the Lord, Savvy in All Things Pop Culture and Watcher of the Bees,” said the creature.
Dean felt a pang of guilt. An angel. Dean didn’t understand why some angel was here, helping him…He didn’t understand why this angel thought he deserved saving.
“I’m…I’m just Dean. Just…Just your everyday demon.” That’s all he felt when he was next to such a being. A little, petty, pathetic insect compared to the warmth Dean felt from this angel.
Sam the Moose Man was walking over to his bro’s grave. Sam was a antler wielding, BAMF of a giant who kicked assbutt and drank tea, and was all out of tea.
He, being the good little big brother he always tried to be, was coming over to the grave as he did every month.
You know, to swear vengeance on CROWREH *shakes fist at the ground*, to talk about stabbing rip stabbing every demon until they tell him where the hell to get a reaper so he can go through the backdoor of hell and find Dean, to swear again vengeance on CROWREH *shakes fist at the ground*, and then leave a slice of pie as he skipped into the sunset. It was a whole thing. People stared.
But when he got to the grave, HOLY SHNIZAP, DEAN WAS ALIVE. OUT OF HELL…being held by a pretty man with blue eyes?
“MINEEEEEEE, GET YOUR OWN, MOOSE MAN!” hissed the man with blue eyes and the Moose could just feel the gross crawl up his throat just thinking about the idea.
“W-what?” asked the Moose, the whole scene just…what did Dean get himself into?
“Hey, Sammy…this is Cas. He’s an angel…he grabbed me tightly and raised me from perdition,” said Dean. He seemed to be in a bit of a daze.
“Perdition? Do you even know what that means, Dean? And I think he's grabbing you tightly, not grabbed,” blurted the Moose, panicking. The angel, right on Dean’s freaking grave, basically carrying him like he’d been dating Dean for well over six months, maybe even a year? Sam doesn’t get even a postcard from hell and THIS HAPPENS? His brother could have AT LEAST sent a snapchat.
“He-is-my-demon-and-you-are-not-going-to-take-my-demon-away-from-me-because-he-has-the-prettiest-soul-I’ve-ever-seen-ever-and-he-is-MINE!” hissed the angel, flailing his arms around Dean as if touching him everywhere would stop someone from taking Dean away.
“Hey, uh, buddy,” his older brother said, clearing his throat, “He’s not gonna take me away. That’s just my brother. My Moose brother. He’s good, I swear.”
Cas narrowed his eyes, slowly moving away from the Moose’s squirrelly big small brother while still maintaining a close distance. “My true form is approximately the size of your Chrysler Building. I feel this should be known by you.”
The Moose glanced from Cas to Dean. Cas clung to Dean once more. “STOP LOOKING AT MY DEMON, MOOSE!” hissed the angel. Sam raised an eyebrow. “Really?” said Sam.
Dean turned red. “Shut up,” grumbled Dean as they all began to walk home, some to their old home in that old bunker of ancestors, and the other to a new one, following this beautiful soul he had just saved.
hey gabbbbb, how do you cope with school and assignments and all. i'm drowning in mineeeeeee. being an art student is the best thing and the worst thing all at once
Well. I have to hand in this 40% mark essay in a few hours and it’s 4:20 am and I have not yet started and I’m slightly tipsy and I’ve got pesto all over me but U know what I will pull it off and be fine and honestly you will too. There is basil pesto everywhere. This is surreal.