#Sam And Dean Winchester Are Not Human Beings

[sunsbaby]

❝ everything is blue . . .❞

❝ her grace, his hands, her jeans . . . ❞

dean winchester x fallen angel!reader

falling from heaven was no easy task, and so was losing your grace—it was the one thing that made you who you were. the only thing you were able to grasp onto for understanding when times got tough, reminding you that god made you; that you were his soldier and his child more importantly.

turns out your peers thought otherwise, continuously having to fix and remake you—not something they seemed to have time for. they toyed with your mind and the code that was carved into your being; it wasn't something they'd seen before. it scared them, so just like michael to lucifer, they cast you away.

god made you this way, why weren't you accepted? your grace, drained from your form—shining in its glory; unlike usual angels yours was blue, not iridescent and white. blue was what humans used to depict the emotion of sadness. the blue which once brought you comfort only taunting you with your past. though you could never get away.

everything around you was blue.

even the sky was taunting you. with a turn of your head there it was again—a flower. the petals a shade of blue, you couldn't bear it. so, you took off, your body carried you far far away. the gravel beneath you scraping against the soles of your feet. blood followed in a trail behind you, not that you could feel it. it didn't make sense, tears fell from your eyes—the salty fluid slowly trickling down your cheeks.

you ran until all you felt was pain, falling on the floor in agony as your body ached. your feet were bloody and dirty, remnants of the rocks left wedged between the cuts. all you could do was cry, you were now human; once an angel to which you had a purpose. now, all you had were feelings and nothing to help guide you in your new life. laying on the floor, curling up into a ball, you cried until you couldn't. gasps left your lips, red eyed, and sore.

you woke up somewhere new, a bunker of some sorts; however, you weren't safe. as your eyes cleared up, all you saw was blue. what used to ignite a feeling of warmth inside only brought a feeling of emptiness. your body still hurt, yet your feet were taken care of—bandaged and cleaned. a man appeared, he stuck his hand out towards you.

blue

it was all blue, it reminded you of heaven. what had been stolen from you and kept sealed away. the spot left in your soul—in your being was affecting your body negatively.

"please.." you muttered out, your body trembling and suddenly everything around you was cold.

dean didn't know what to do, sam had seen you and brought you back to nurse back to health—dean didn't really want to, for safety of course. yet, when he saw you, bloodied, dirty, with tear-stained cheeks something burned inside him. something new, something he'd never felt for another before.

"what's wrong, does something hurt?" he retracted his hand while he spoke, his eyes softening slightly—just enough to show he cared.

your mind was running with all possible outcomes, all painted blue. your grace was your foundation, what you stood on to stay strong. now it was gone, the most important part of you was stripped away from you with harsh hands. you'd been molded into the perfect soldier by god himself, but you weren't the same as others. and just like humans—anything different scares them. it strikes fear in those with authority.

what you hadn't realized was that's all you were to them: a dog. when you showed signs of wanting to explore heaven more, pulling away from your leash—they deemed you a danger. they tried and tried to figure out what god had done to you. what he did to make you so, unique. when they couldn't, they tossed you out. to them you were useless, sure you were strong—but now all you are is just a human. angelic powers now in their greedy grasp.

"hey, hey–what's happening?" dean placed a hand on your denim-clad legs.

somehow his touch caused a reaction, your vision faded from blue, colors you were once able to see came back. your body flowed with a fire, warming you up. you locked eyes with his, the green orbs that stared back at you shined with something new—something exciting beneath the worry and confusion. there was no blue, except for a small streak running down your back.

a realization came into your mind, now clear with no thoughts or fears clouding it. you never did fear blue, it still brought you comfort.

your fear was change.

change as in the fact that you were now a fallen angel—human, if you will. but, that made you just like them. this strange yet handsome man helped you conclude, change can be good, even if you lost something in the process.

sunny yaps! this is actually horrible but i had to let it escape the confinements of my drafts! comments are greatly appreciated and honestly this is NOT one of my best works omg.. I CANNOT WRITE HURT OR ANYTHING FOR SHHH or plot even like HELP! I LOVE YOU ALLL

special tags! @bluemerakis @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @h8aaz @rositaslabyrinth @bejeweledinterludes

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

...I always interpreted this as Cas seeing, and falling in love with, Dean's demon form first. So

1- Cas has known What Dean Is(tm) the whole time and has never not loved ALL of Dean's weird, demihuman/monstrous, "what if I punched God in the face", undefinable riftwalker hot boyMILF ass.

2- Cas raising Dean from Hell was (at least to start) less the dramatic bridal carry we all envision and more like someone trying to rescue a very angry stray cat that does not know its being rescued so it has to be wrapped in a towel until it stops trying to claw its rescuer's face off.

i think a lot of people don’t realise that cas pulling dean out of hell in lazarus rising wasn’t cas pulling dean off the rack, it was cas pulling dean AWAY FROM the rack, away from the people he was torturing

the first time cas touched dean he saw the pain dean was inflicting on other people, saw the way he enjoyed it, and it didn’t change how pure dean was to him, it didn’t make him any less good

[ghostcreaturetypething]

Every time the boys call their dad ‘Sir’ I want to fucking scream

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

1.01, "Pilot" | Stephen Adly Guirgis, "The Last Days Of Judas Iscariot" " | 5.22, "Swan Song"

[hbo--spn]

what they did to castiel will forever piss me off

cas (with help ik) SAVED DEAN FROM HELL, and (part) of sam, FROM HELL. and he flounders for 6 weeks trying to save the boys from.... the american government???? ok??

[beebox-illustrations]

Sammy and Dean having breakfast for dinner, waiting for John to return.

Somehow the thought of how little Sam must have eventually stopped asking when their dad‘s gonna return makes me really emotional 🥲

Had a busy weekend so here we are with a belated post! Have a fantastic week✨🌻

[shadystranger]

What was up with cass fighting for his life to stop dean from rescusing sam (not to mention his almost enthusiastic jumping to move past sam's death) He did NOT have that energy when the roles were reversed

like summin smell fishy and it aint just cass's pussy

[harbingerofsoup]

“dean’s problematic” “no sam’s problematic” “cas is a bad character”

guys, we can’t judge them by the usual standards of morality applied to characters. the writers were all fighting each other over consistency and the network was meddling so their actions episode to episode don’t mean as much for their characters as their essence does or like the core of the characters

[s0fter-sin]

sometimes i think about how much of a waste it was to just have cas ignoring sam’s prayers in s6 instead of him actually not being able to hear him bc he was soulless and his prayers didn’t work

[ghostcreaturetypething]

“I always tried to protect you. Keep you safe. Dad didn’t even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility you know? It’s like I had one job. I had one job…and I screwed it up. ad one job and I screwed it up. I blew it and for that I am sorry. I guess that's what I do, I let down the people I love. I let dad down. And now, I guess I'm supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with that? What am I supposed to do, Sammy? What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do???”

[soullessjack]

i think perhaps another layer of autism in jacks character is that he’s fine with being different, but is always upset to be treated or perceived differently.

[batcavescolony]

S4 E10 Supernatural

Anna was an Angel, also Only 4 Angels have seen God. Ruby got tortured by Alastor, that's sucks. Uriel saying Castiel has a weakness and it's that he likes Dean. Dean and Anna...seem to get along. Ok OK OK and on to the heartbreaking stuff. Dean told Sam about hell, and how it's wasn't months for him it was 40years and he was given a choice to get tortured or torture others. Dean wishes he couldn't feel anything cus he cracked after 30years and he was good at it. Uggh 💔

[angelic-omega]

Depression will have you watching supernatural all the way through NOT once…not twice but THREE FULL TIMES

If you use supernatural as a means of escapism please seek therapy

[kyxgrey]

i drew a little something the other day

[blushingsastiel]

human castiel makes my heart break!!! i lowkey love him as a human but he didn't have time to adjust!!! he was thrown into how sucky it is to be humannn with no warning. horrible. literal torture dkjfsjkfsjj it sucks out here being human JKHJFDHSJK

[catherine-sketches]

Supernatural fic thoughts in my head

Have you guys seen Overly Sarcastic Productions episode about Loki?

Has anyone written a Gabe fic where he is that version of Loki?

The trickster guardian of the hearth and home.

Pretend for a second that spn doesn’t have an Actual Loki who traded identities with Gabe.

Let’s say he came to earth to scape all the family disgrace happening upstairs and just traveled for a bit. His domain as an Archangel was The Messenger but… there is no one to send news now… so he falls back in his other domain.

God’s Judgment.

Michael may be the supposed “Archangel of Justice” but the actual job of passing judgement felt into Gabe’s shoulders.

He who mingled most with man, who had a body of his own made so he could deliver the news eye to eye to the listeners, who talked to them and spread the word of his Godly Father, who knew their prayers and desires and wishes . He was the one Dad dearest chose to give the final say.

Michael may be the sword but it was Gabriel who pointed the target.

Or at least it was supposed to be him.

But then the fight happened. The book of revelations was written and daddy was gone…

Why would Justice listen to Judgment when the patch ahead was already predetermined and the final verdict was already made?

So Judgement left. He was just Gabriel now. Sometimes he felt like he was not even that anymore.

So he took a new name.

Entangler.

Loki.

He would pass his judgment as he was made to do, and hey what was the problem if he had a little laugh in the process?

So he played tricks on the rotten. Worser the crime, deadlier the prank.

Some people deserved to have all their socks turn mysteriously wet.

Other people deserved their feet cut off.

If he was getting deadlier and deadlier with each punishment, the act fueled by his resentment, his anger, his heartbreak…

Well that was for him to know and his Dad to ignore with each unanswered prayer.

Then, some century later, he met the Aesir in their prime.

He met Odin.

Blood brothers. Perhaps sharing your blood with another supernatural entity was a bad idea. The boost that alone gave to the one eyed trickster should have concerned him.

But he was so… so tired of being alone. One brother. That’s all that he asked. His blood (and all its properties) for a brother.

And for a time he seemed to get what he traded for and more.

A family. Disfuncional as all hell, but a family nonetheless.

Then, with the boost his blood gave him, Odin sacrificed himself to himself for power and foresight.

Then the prophecies came.

Once again! A FUCKING prophecy of dooms day was going to destroy his family ONCE AGAIN!

His children. His poor children.

Nephilim, all of them. Their grace sealed away as his own had been by his own hand to avoid recognition from one of the heavenly host.

Taken from his arms, sent away far away from his embrace, his protection.

Oh how he wished to smite them all for this. Shed the mask that was the trickster and let the Archangel burn it all down.

It has been a long time since he set fire to a city.

But he hesitated… what if…if…

…If I can change this prophecy, if I can stop Ragnarok…

I can stop the Apocalypse!

Far fetched and barely thought out was this plan but the hope it gave him could have lit up the sky for three days straight.

So he stayed his hand. He lived and learned and with what he knew about the prophecy, tried to stop the end.

Only for it to not matter.

Ragnarok came anyway and fucked everyone.

The Older Aesir, the giants, his children.

Midgard was in shambles just like almost all of its inhabitants…

When his first child died he threw away all the fucks he had.

The song was playing he liked it or not so he may as well dance!

So he gave himself fully to the bloodshed. If the Aesir were going to die, may it be by his hands.

In the end, Heimdall has the honor of killing the “Mother of Monsters”.

That was the first, and surprisingly not the last, time he faked his death.

And that was the end of the world.

Well, actually it was the end of the land that one day would be know as Scotland and Ireland, but they bounced back swiftly so really no harm done.

It was him, Baldr, the younger Aesir and those two humans over there to repopulate the land against the world now.

But humans (the ones that weren’t even aware of the bloodshed happening one continent over) still worshipped them. Gods old (and dead) and new.

His father had already proved it to him so he didn’t know why it came as such a shock.

Even when the god is not there, humans will still believe in him. Even if indirectly.

Many of the fallen gods regained their bodies through sheer force of belief alone.

The land (the part that was not regenerating itself after the worlds worst brawl) had been throughly converted to his Dad’s religion thanks to the bloody and brutal efforts of monks (with the blessing of Michael and Uriel no doubt, those dirty bitches) but the deep set beliefs, the rituals, especially the domestic ones, remained.

Children dancing around the fire to singing about him.

Spiders gently removed from homes as they were net makers just like he was and shouldn’t be bothered.

Baby teeth throw in the fire by superstitious parents asking for him to look after their babies.

And Loki, because to them he was still Loki, with his nest so violently emptied, could not say no.

So these handful of people got a guardian trickster. Generations upon generations of children, some that left the country ages ago, had a blessing upon them that tended to send the smartest of the supernatural beings away.

But he could not ward them against their fellow humans.

———————————————————

An university.

Her name is Mabel.

She doesn’t know about him and that is just fine.

Her grandmother had seen him once, recognized him even from her own girlhood.

“Look after my lass for me, please?”

How could he say no to that? The old Scotswoman even said please for Dad’s sake!

So he found a job. Janitor senior or something like that. A nice cover that would help him keep an eye on the young girl.

He kept doing his job as a trickster, of course! Teleporting all over the place to deliver divine punishment masquerading as pagan trickstery, but he couldn’t deny that most of his pranks didn’t leave a 50 mile radius from the university.

A jock that needed to be brought down a peg or two.

A guy from the veterinary department experimenting on the pets of his classmates so he could boost his clandestine overpriced vet appointments in the campus getting his hand eaten by a croc (he overdid that one, unfortunately. The dude died. But after seeing Mabel cry as her dog became sick out of nowhere he was not shading any tears any time soon)

And a professor who made a very nasty habit of extorting sexual favors from his female students for a better grade.

That one was more of a preventative measure as Mabel had yet to start taking his classes but the other girls in the campus were probably toasting for his broken neck so it was a job well done anyway.

Mabel was safe. His child was safe

Mabel and her family (outside of grandma Edin who had caught him all those months ago) may not worship him no more but they were HIS. To protect, to guide, to set in the right path.

He was going to make their lives a good as he could before it all went downhill.

Speaking of downhill…

The vessels of Michael and Lucifer were here.

Brothers. Hunters. Tall and medium (at his hight he had no place calling anyone short)

Sam and Dean.

Maybe he could…

No.

He knows this song. Stopping it is a exercise in futility that he is not willing to try.

Not again.

Sam and Dean would just have to accept as he did and join the dance.