Got a drawing tablet to hook up to my computer. Just got to wait for it to arrive. In the meantime, enjoy this random snippet of a Supernatural G/t project I’m working on. (WARNINGS: Strong language, dehumanization, and injury!!!)
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As the humans would say, he was royally fucked.
A wall of glass thicker than his own arm surrounded him, echoing each of his rapid breaths and turning his reflection into a funhouse mirror. There was nothing to duck behind, nothing to take the seemingly burning gaze of the giant off of him. Not even blankets or soil to cover the bottom. Just him, the glass, and the fingerprints larger than his head.
Castiel hissed, wings spread and fluffed while his tail lashed wildly behind him. He felt like a mouse cornered by a rat. Except rats were easily killed. Humans were not. Even the blade he still had hidden on him wouldn’t fend one off. He was going to die, alone and afraid, and it was going to hurt.
“Easy little dude, nothing’s going to hurt ya,” he heard like thunder from above. He knew it was a lie. He was already hurt. His arm was more than likely broken and, if he wasn’t mistaken by the searing pain in his back, his right wing was dislocated. It was possible he had a few bruised ribs as well. If that child hadn’t plucked him from the air, none of this would have happened. He’d be home, feeling accomplished for providing for his family and probably snuggled comfortably with his brothers and sisters. Instead, he was shivering in the back corner of a glass cage feeling nothing but fear.
tiny!octo!Cas is very flustered when it comes to the freckled man buying him.
Read Below or on AO3
No Longer Lonely
Dean scrunches his nose as he watches the bunny poop. Then he looks over at his brother in disgust. “I’m tellin’ ya, Sammy. I am not lonely.”
“You work eighty hour weeks and haven’t dated anyone in three years.” His little brother shoots him a dirty look himself. “So, you must be lonely.”
Dean stops by a crate of birds and tilts his head to the side. They’re all pretty colors and they seem pretty chill and low maintenance, which is what he wants. The chirping is kind of annoying though. He moves on. “Sam, I’m not even home enough to have a damn pet.”
“Maybe a pet will make you want to be home more.”
“Oh, yes. Because what I want to do with my time is sit on the couch and have one sided conversations with an animal.”
A slow smile begins to form on Sam’s face. “I have an idea for that. In fact, I had Charlie keep something for you.”
That makes Dean nervous. Charlie is the owner of the shop, but she’s also in their friend group. In fact, she’s constantly working with Sam to better Dean’s life. Whatever she has planned isn’t going to be fun for Dean. It’s probably some exotic cat that can sense emotion and do a dance or some shit like that.
Charlie cheers from across the shop when she comes from the back and sees them. She waves her arm for them to follow and heads toward the fish. A fish, Dean can handle. Those are extremely low maintenance. In fact, he can practically forget about it. He’ll feed it in the morning as he makes his coffee and then the whole damn obligation will be over for the day. Everyone can be happy.
“Dean! I’m so excited! Just wait until you see him!” Dean laughs as Charlie squeezes him into a hug. For the life of him, he can’t stay crabby when she’s around. It’s impossible. She’s just too happy and energetic.
“Hey, Charlie.” Dean pulls away from the hug and winks at her. “Any chance you’re gonna give me some cute little fish I can stick in a bowl in my kitchen and call things good?”
She lifts an eyebrow, offended. “Absolutely not. That won’t help with the loneliness at all.”
Swallowing a groan, Dean follows her for the last few steps until they stop at a large tank. She starts speaking but Dean is only half listening. There’s a tiny creature inside the thing. It’s doing flips and swirls, stopping every few seconds to look at the people coming to visit him, before returning to his gymnastics. He has a human head and upper body that’s completely normal except some purple and blue freckles. From his waist down, he has blue tentacles that remind Dean of the ocean . Dean leans closer, reading the info card taped to the tank.
RARE
Enochian: Male
-High Maintenance
-Intelligent
-Friendly
Dean realizes he’s in deep shit when he reads high maintenance and doesn’t even flinch. He just goes back to watching the little guy. The news had these creatures on a while back. Divers had discovered them in the Bermuda Triangle. Other things were discovered as well, but it was just the Enochians that were brought back to America. They’re going extinct and the scientists wanted to save the species.
The little guy notices that Dean has gotten closer to the tank. He presses his hands against the inside of his tank, peering up at the man. Four of his tentacles suction to the glass while the other four start dancing wildly. He looks excited but also terrified. Like the unknown scares him.
“I want him,” Dean whispers.
The Enochian perks up at his words and Dean stands in surprise. “He can understand me?”
“He may have. He’s extremely smart and I know of many around the country that have become fluent in our language, but he’s not very social here. I haven’t had much of a chance to interact.” She shrugs. “He doesn’t speak.”
“I want him,” Dean repeats.
Charlie nods but she looks concerned. “You can try to pick him up. They’re too smart to go with an owner they don’t want. He’ll escape your place and then he’ll be in danger. I have to make sure he’s okay with leaving with you.”
“So, if he doesn’t want to come with me, he’ll stay here?”
“Yes.” She tilts her head, looking at the little guy. “They have heightened senses. Especially smell. Scientists have realized that they use smell for a lot of things. They use it when choosing interactions with humans. They can actually smell if they can trust someone. If they feel connected to someone. It’s fascinating.”
“So, he’ll decide all that when he smells me? When I pick him up?”
“Yes.” Charlie giggles. “Before I kept him for you, a few others came to buy him. He did not like them. Don’t be offended if he doesn’t want you either. He’s extremely picky. Pickier than any other I’ve heard of.”
Dean sucks in a breath. If this little guy decides he doesn’t want to go with Dean, that might break his heart. It’s crazy to believe that just a few minutes ago Dean wanted some fish he could forget about. Now? He’s already planning activities and conversations and ways to teach him to talk or function or play or anything else. He’s attached.
“Go ahead. Reach in there.”
“Do I grab him, or have him come to me?”
“Just slowly move toward him. He usually comes no matter what so he can smell you up close. Just go very slow, especially when you pull him out of the tank. If he gets scared or anything like that, he’ll try jumping back in. He almost hurt himself last time.”
“Okay.” Dean approaches the tank again and peers down. The little guy is in the center of it, his chin lifted up like he’s waiting patiently. He knows exactly what’s happening.
He reaches into the water carefully and opens his palm. The Enochian’s tentacles all bunch up, like he’s unsure and defensive. Then they slowly relax and he makes his way to Dean’s hand. He sniffs at his finger tip and looks up at Dean in pure confusion. Dean glances at Charlie with an eyebrow raised. “Is this going well,” he whispers, embarrassed at how nervous he is.
She’s staring at his hand in wonder. “Very.”
When he feels a weight settle in the palm of his hand, he looks back down. The little guy is settled in his palm and looking at him expectantly. Everything seems to be going well until he’s taken out of the water. Then he’s squeaking and looking terrified again. His eyes dart between Dean and the other two, his tentacles bunching again.
Dean keeps his hands above the tank in case he wants to jump out of his hands.
“Hey, Buddy. Don’t be afraid.” He pauses, unsure of what to do or say. When he glances at Charlie she makes a shooing motion with her hands, as if to tell him to go on with it. Dean takes a breath and looks back at the Enochian. He’s relaxed a little, and he’s got his chin tucked down as he carefully sniffs his hand. “I’m Dean.”
The tiny creature tilts his head and scrunches his nose. Then, carefully, he forms his mouth to whisper, “Dee.” Immediately after making the noise, the Enochian grabs one of his tentacles and squeezes it, cheeks flushing red as he carefully peeks up at Dean for approval.
Dean’s obsessed. He’s a fucking gonner.
“Yeah, buddy. Dee. Good job.” Dean flashes his best smile, and the Enochian mimics it, forming one on his own face. “I really want to take you home with me. Would that be okay?”
He holds his breath and waits. The little guy thinks for just a second before he squeaks and wraps himself completely around Dean’s thumb with a smile. “K! K!” He giggles a little and squeaks again. Dean’s heart nearly explodes.
Charlie claps and Sam gives Dean a huge smile. “So, you’re really doing this? You’re getting him?”
“Yeah.” Dean smiles back down at the little guy. “What do I do next?”
tiny!octo!Cas enjoying his new tank Dee bought him.
Read Part 1 [X]
Link for AO3
Part Two
Two hundred and fifty dollars later - with his friend and family discount in mind - Dean is home with his new friend. He can’t stop grinning at how cute he is. He demanded to ride in Dean’s flannel pocket as they drove home and keeps releasing tiny squeaks every time he sees something exciting or interesting. It isn't until Dean starts setting up his tank in the bedroom that the little guy decides to venture out of his shirt. He carefully climbs down Dean’s arm so he can watch from the edge of the table as his home is created.
Dean fills the tank with brightly colored rocks and lets them settle. The Enochian is entranced, little mouth agape as he watches the pretty pebbles drift. Dean places the castle he bought on one side, letting the opening that leads to an interior section face the front of the tank. He adds some of the plants around as well. He finishes it off by putting in the little treasure chest that opens to release a bunch of bubbles whenever the motion sensor is triggered.
The Enochian puts a tentacle to the outside of the tank when it’s all done, peering inside. It’s already full of water, the filter plugged in to make sure it stays the right temperature, clean, and full of the proper amount of salt. It’s ready to go, so Dean asks, “Do you want to go in? Check it out?”
He realizes the little guy doesn’t understand because he looks at Dean and tilts his head, eyebrows crinkled. He shakes his head to make it clear he doesn’t understand. Dean points at him, nearly touching his bare chest, before pointing at the tank. “In? Do you want to go in?” he asks, repeating the pointing a few more times.
The Enochian nods frantically and puts his arms up, making grabby motions with his hands at Dean. He’s perfectly capable of climbing into the tank himself, but he’s grown very attached to the man with the soft shirt and nice smells. So attached, in fact, he’s not sure how often he plans on even being inside his new little home.
Dean gently picks him up, cradling him until they get to the opening of the tank. He puts his hand in the water so the little guy doesn’t have to jump, then removes it so he can step back and watch. The Enochian swims past the treasure chest, the box popping open and shooting bubbles toward the lid of the tank. It startles the little guy and he squeaks, a sound loud enough for Dean to hear even with him being under water. There’s a frantic twist of tentacles and arms. Then he’s disappearing inside his castle.
After a minute of waiting, Dean decides he probably wants some time alone anyway. He lays back on his bed and grabs the book he’s currently reading from his bookshelf headboard. Shifting until he’s fully comfortable among the pillows, he crosses his ankles and opens the book. It’s one Sam bought him. He secretly loves reading but won’t ever admit it. He acts annoyed when Sam buys him books or gives him one to borrow. It’s his place. Everyone expects him to be the badass, tough guy who doesn’t read or like art or any of that stuff. Dean doesn’t mind pretending. No one bothers him. No one fucks with him. He doesn’t get hurt.
In the middle of a sentence, Dean feels something wet against his wrist. He looks over to see the little guy looking up at him nervously. His thick black curls are dripping water and sticking to his forehead, but Dean is paying more attention to the cute blush forming on his cheeks and the brilliant, otherworldly blue of his eyes.
“What’s up, little guy?”
The creature tilts his head and opens his mouth, but he can’t find any words. He could talk all day to this man in Enochian, but that won’t get him anywhere. When he sighs in frustration, Dean tries to ask again. “Do you need something?”
What were those words he used in the store? The man had asked a question using something that sounded like “k”. When he had said “k” back in response, the man looked very happy and took him home. He just can’t quite figure out what “k” represented.
He’ll just have to show him instead. He climbs up his arm and across his chest until he’s only a few inches from the strange thing in his hands. With the tip of one of his tentacles, he pokes at the thing. It’s hard and his touch leaves a small dot of water that soaks into it. He moves his head to look at the man and pulls his shoulders up in question. “K?”
“K?” Dean looks at the book, then the little guy, then the book. What the hell does “k” mean? “Um, are you asking what this is? What it’s called?”
When the Enochian just stares up at him in confusion, Dean points at the book. “Book.”
He turns his little head to look at the object again. Dean pokes at it a few times with his fingers. “Book. Book.” When he looks back up at Dean, Dean continues explaining. “I, well, Dean,” he says, jabbing a finger at his chest, “Dean is reading the book,” then he points at the book. He does it a few times before pausing, looking at the little guy expectantly. He’s not sure if that’s even what he was asking about, but it’s all Dean could think of.
A tentacle pokes at the page again and he whispers, “Book.”
“Yes! Yes! Book. Good job.” Dean nods quickly, smiling wide. The Enochian does a little shimmy. He still doesn’t understand anything but “book” but it’s clear the man is praising him. He loves praise. He loves being good.
Dean says again, including the finger movements, “Dean is reading the book.”
With a look of determination, he pokes a tentacle at the man’s chest. “Dee?”
“Yes. I’m Dean.”
“Dee.”
The man smiles. “Good enough.”
“Dee?” the little guy asks quietly, tilting his head in question.
“Yeah buddy?”
He doesn’t know how to explain, in words or in hand movements. He wants to thank the man for taking him home. He wants to let the man know how relieved he is to be here. The moment he smelled him, he knew. This man was his. They would be together forever and they would be very happy. He already loves him.
None of that can be told in hand, or tentacle, motions. And he definitely doesn’t know any of those words except in Enochian.
The little one is getting frustrated, breaths coming in huffs as his eyebrows pull in. Dean closes the book and puts it aside, then takes him into his hands. “Are you hungry?”
“K?”
“Hungry. Eat. Do you need to eat?” Dean makes a motion like he’s putting something in his mouth, then he points at his little belly to indicate that’s where it would go.
With a loud squeak, he shakes his head and tries wiggling out of his hands. He does not want this man to eat him! How could his smell betray him like this? How could it make him believe this man is safe? The man wants to eat him. Like he’s a common fish!
He squeaks and squirms until he’s out of Dean’s hands. Then he’s bolting back to his tank. He inks so Dean won’t know where he goes before getting inside the thing Dean called a castle. Then he stays completely still, trying to calm his hearts from the panic.
Dean sits on the bed, completely taken aback by what just happened. Obviously, the little guy misinterpreted what he was trying to communicate. He has no idea what he could have possibly thought. All he knows is he needs to go get some damn food and make it clear that what he was trying to suggest is perfectly safe. In fact, it’s something he needs.
Charlie said his favorite kind of fish is tuna, but he’s also allowed human food. After grabbing a bag of tuna he grabs a few chocolate chips from the half gone bag in his baking cabinet. Who doesn’t love chocolate? Hopefully not Enochians.
He sets the food up on a napkin, using a mason jar lid as a makeshift plate. Once everything is ready, he takes a piece of tuna in his fingers and gently taps on the tank glass. He knows he’s in the castle. There’s nowhere else secluded enough for him to hide from all angles. The ink is gone now, making the tank look completely empty. He taps on the glass again. “Buddy, Dean wants to show you. Food. Food to eat. Fish. I have fish. And chocolate.”
The little guy comes zooming out of his hiding spot, looking through the glass at Dean. Dean takes the chance and puts the tuna in his mouth, then points to his belly to show what he meant originally. Understanding blooms on the little guy’s face and he scrambles up the glass and out of the tank, trailing water as he gets to the food. He sniffs at it, then turns to look up at Dean with a wide smile. It’s the first time he sees the inside of his mouth. There are these adorable little fangs inside that poke out when he smiles. Dean’s heart bursts again.
“Fish?” he asks excitedly, tilting his head at Dean. He recognizes the word from the red haired lady at the store. She called his daily food fish. There were other things he ate, some he can remember the names of, but fish he knows for sure. Fish is good. Fish is delicious. He wants fish.
He has to be polite, though. His mom would kill him if she knew he wasn’t. So he tentatively points to the fish and says “Fish,” then to himself and says, “Castiel,” then he makes the eating motion, asking permission. When he’s done, he does his usual head tilt in question.
Dean smiles and nods. “Yes. Eat the fish. Castiel?” he asks, pointing at the Enochian again.
He nods and points at himself. “Castiel.” Then he points at Dean. “Dee.”
“Can I call you Cas?” He points at him. “Castiel.” Then points in the same spot. “Cas?”
“Cas. K!”
“Okay. Good.” Dean points to the food, feeling a weight lift. “Eat. Whatever you want. Fish and chocolate.”
A tentacle pokes at the chocolate before coming back and coiling. He’s unsure about this brown thing called chocolate. He will assess later. Instead, he starts on the fish. Dean leaves him be to go back to the kitchen. He heats up some microwave soup and brings it into the bedroom to eat with Castiel.
Most of the fish is gone so Dean adds more. Castiel doesn’t seem interested in it anymore, though. He pokes at the chocolate again. It still seems dangerous. He’s curious about what Dean is eating. He makes his way over to him and crawls up. His little hands curl over the lip of the bowl and he peers inside. It smells delicious. There’s colorful things floating around in the warm liquid.
When he looks up at Dean, the man is smiling again. “Want to try it? Eat?” he asks, pointing at the soup before putting a spoon to his mouth. “Eat? Soup?”
“Eat.” He nods, now understanding what “eat” means.
Dean takes a small piece of carrot on the tip of his spoon and holds the spoon to Castiel’s face. It’s still a little too big so he uses a tentacle to take it from the spoon, holding the slippery orange thing while he takes a bite. It’s delicious. He takes the second bite and looks up at Dean, wanting more. This time he’s given a piece of something green. It’s even better than the orange thing.
Together, they finish off the soup. His belly is full so he doesn’t try the chocolate. He’s not heartbroken over it. The stuff still looks weird. Even when Dean eats it himself before cleaning everything up, he doesn’t trust the brown things.
He rides in Dean’s flannel pocket, watching curiously as the man cleans the kitchen. Then they relax on the couch. Dean turns the television on, flipping through the channels until he finds the football game. He situates himself so he’s laying down with his head on a throw pillow. Castiel pokes his head out of the flannel pocket and looks up at him. “K?”
“What’s up?” Dean’s starting to realize “k” means Castiel needs something or is confused about something.
“K?” He crawls over to the center of Dean’s chest and pokes a tentacle in the direction of his head. Dean has no idea what it could mean but he nods.
Castiel smiles wide and scurries up his neck and along the side of his face. His smooth tentacles feel like Dean is brushing against glass. It tickles and he tries not laugh. When Castiel reaches his hair, he feels some gently tugging and the weight shifting before he stills. Dean waits for something to happen. Nothing does.
The big box with pictures that are moving is showing these little people running around with a ball. They have helmets on their heads, kind of like the Enochian warriors wear, and they hit each other a lot. The noises coming from the box are kind of loud and weird but he doesn’t mind all that much. In fact, once he’s used to them, he finds the noises soothing as he lays tangled in Dean’s soft hair. It smells even more like the man up here. In his shirt, there are scents mixed in that throw Castiel off. Something floral comes from the inside of the pocket. And Dean’s hands stopped smelling like him when he cleaned the kitchen. But up here? Dean smells like Dean.
After a while, he starts feeling sleepy. He rubs at his eyes and shifts just a little bit so a fluffier tuft of hair is against his cheek. Then he sinks into the warm strands and drifts off to sleep.
