#night!cas

day/night destiel fanart for @elicedraws' wonderful AU :) My drawing skills are not exactly the best but I couldn't resist!

I forgot to add a watermark (like always) but please give credits in case you repost!

That’s it, I’m officially dead. 

IT WAS  WORTH IT THO, I ABSOUTELY ADORE THIS AU BY @elicedraws

AND I HAVEN’T DRAWN THIS GOOD IN AGES, MY CHUCK.

Okay but, picture this... The Summer Solstice?? WITH SHORTS??

He has never seen a star shine as bright as Dean did.

Once upon a time, there was an angel called Night, who was created by the mother Gaia to hold dominion over darkness. He was an odd fellow; curious and kind, with a mop of dark hair and bright blue eyes the colour of stars. He would wake each evening with a yawn, and smile down on twinkling mortal cities, tracing his own constellations in humanity’s lights. Then, he’d wrap his great, dark wings around the world and lull it to sleep.

His wings were fabricated from the very essence of the Universe. Each plume was dark as pitch, with galaxies tucked in between its vanes and comets gathering at its after-feathers. Sometimes, the angel would observe people appreciating his plumage with telescopes or spyglasses. They always gave such pretty names to his stars. 

Once upon a time, there was a righteous man called Day. Created to spill radiance and warmth across even the darkest corners of the Earth, Day was golden and bright, with green eyes the colour of moss after a rainstorm, and freckles like sun spots all across the bridge of his nose. He was jovial and sweet, but odd, too. Curious. While Night gazed in wonder at children being tucked into beds and lovers whispering sweet nothings in th beds of pickups, Day watched, rapt, at the daily goings-on of humanity. People going to work, to school… to places they loved or places they hated or places they held no real opinion of. Humanity was always moving during Day’s time. 

Sometimes, Day longed to move with them.

His existence was a lonely one.

…But not so lonely as one would think.

When the angel called Night would be nearing the end of his watch, when his eyes would droop and his wings would sag, the righteous man called Day would tap him on the shoulder twice. My turn, that tap originally signified. 

But, with time, it went on the mean other things, too: 

Hiya! Anything interesting?  What do they do all night? What kind of dreams do they have? Hi. Some of them are so gangly. Do they whine a lot at night? They whine during the day. They’re kind of gross.

Sometimes, they can be awful.

Take it easy. They love, did you notice that? That they’re so big and small at the same time? How do they do that?

When I look at you, I feel big and small, too.

The tap became a pat, which became a poke, which became a teasing shove, then a comforting squeeze, then a gentle caress… then a hug. Eventually, Day greeted Night with a kiss. 

Their kisses painted colour across the sky—pinks and purples and blues swirling around the earth. When they held hands, the stars in Night’s wings flared to renewed brightness. When Night smiled, Day shone golden and sweet. 

And when they got carried away—when parting seemed impossible in the wake of tender affection, well, Night stayed. Curled up against Day’s side, great wings tucked to his back, he stayed awake until his own exhaustion forcefully pulled him under. Only when his eyes fell shut would the moon disappear from Day’s blue sky.

Once upon a time, a righteous man called Day fell in love with an angel called Night. Created by mother Gaia to old dominion over light and darkness, they were the Watchers of the Earth.