"Nature of the Fall" Supernatural, PG13
Re: Supernatural. I came to really like the character of Anna. At first she grated on my nerves, but by the end, I thought she was quite gorgeous and well-drawn. I was also inspired by The Vintner’s Luck, by Elizabeth Knox (The Gay Angel Novel, you know).
I wrote this awhile back and while I’m in the mood to fling writing about here and there, I thought what the hell.
Title: Nature of the Fall
Author: Alizarin_NYC
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Dean/Anna, Dean/Castiel
Dean Winchester, a man, human and young, smelling of salt and sweat, kissed me and pressed me into the back of his Impala, just as I ordained.
Later, was an orgasm of a different sort. I erupted in light. Shut your eyes, I told Dean. And Sam. I shut their eyes to it. But in truth for a moment, I wanted them to see. Dean, blinded forever, would never look at another girl. He'd only see me in his mind's eye. I'd be his last as he had been mine. I'd be burned on the back of his retinas. But our kind is not selfish, not like that.
My grace burned. It was as painful going in as it had been coming out. It didn't feel like Grace at all. It felt like sorrow.
The body I had lived in was vaporized in holy flame. My breats, my legs, my face. The scar on my knee from the fourth grade. The half-moon marks from Dean's fingers on my thighs. Anna was already gone; she'd never really existed. I could feel myself leaving her, leaving them. Leaving him. He made me feel real. That should have been enough.
Dean doesn't belong to me, he never did. He belongs to Castiel. How was I to know he'd already been claimed by an Angel. Marked by him. I couldn’t have realized how deeply committed Castiel was until I met him, saw his face, the way he looked at Dean. It's not just following orders for him, either. And it's not Dean Winchester. It's the fallibility of Angels. It's in our nature to fall.
It happens all the time. Angels everywhere, falling into the complicated little traps of human emotion. In places where the stakes may not be higher, but the body count is. The places where the legends of the dark are born. Places of power. Demons rise everywhere and we are called to fight them. Mankind needs me.
And I need them.
I try hard not to live in the rain that falls over Dean's face, try not to inhabit every drop that sheens over his skin, caressing every world-weary crease. He doesn't feel me, angels treat so lightly. If he misses me he doesn't let on.
Time is different here, it's too soon before I look again and see a fifty-year old man, swinging axes at demons and once again saving young innocents.
Sam is there too, and oddly enough, Ruby. Now I can barely distinguish her demon nature. I can only sense her original nature and I recognize that Ruby has taken great strides. Dean and Sam have a running joke about the Angel Who Got Away and how if she'd hung around they would have their happy family of four. A perfect lucky charm against the darkness.
I can't go to them. Much as I would like to. I can't kiss Dean's withered face with even the finest fiber of the tip of my wings. I can never go back.
Eventually I can see that Castiel has taken my place. He fights alongside these now-grown men and their demon. They have their four, despite all appearances. Castiel hasn't yet told them he too has fallen from Grace and no longer works in their best interests as far as Heaven is concerned. Dean and Sam will spend eternity in Hell, no matter whose side they're fighting on.
The first time Castiel seduces Dean, Dean knows he's going back. He probably even knows as he fucks Castiel that the angel is giving up his own hope of Grace, letting it go like a baby turning from its mother to the bottle. Castiel is disgraced, but his cries of sensual pleasure as Dean enters him and pushes him off into the oblivion of human desire say more to me than any chorus I hear on high.
I try to remember my human name and it doesn't come to me. Not even at Dean's funeral, where I watch Castiel lift Dean's spirit from his grave and attach it to his father's old notebook. Dean will haunt his brother until it's Sam's turn and then, who knows. Ruby probably has plans for the two of them. Dean's destiny is with Castiel, and the ghost and the fallen angel often lie near a lake, sheltered by the comfort of trees, covered by the angel's black wings, the wings drawn up together as if they were a boat or a giant cocoon. It's a bit of peace for warriors of that sort. God and the Devil leave them alone.
I swim as a fish nearby, float like a moonbeam over them; a gentle wind that keeps them sailing out, far from shore.
.
I wrote this awhile back and while I’m in the mood to fling writing about here and there, I thought what the hell.
Title: Nature of the Fall
Author: Alizarin_NYC
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Dean/Anna, Dean/Castiel
Dean Winchester, a man, human and young, smelling of salt and sweat, kissed me and pressed me into the back of his Impala, just as I ordained.
Later, was an orgasm of a different sort. I erupted in light. Shut your eyes, I told Dean. And Sam. I shut their eyes to it. But in truth for a moment, I wanted them to see. Dean, blinded forever, would never look at another girl. He'd only see me in his mind's eye. I'd be his last as he had been mine. I'd be burned on the back of his retinas. But our kind is not selfish, not like that.
My grace burned. It was as painful going in as it had been coming out. It didn't feel like Grace at all. It felt like sorrow.
The body I had lived in was vaporized in holy flame. My breats, my legs, my face. The scar on my knee from the fourth grade. The half-moon marks from Dean's fingers on my thighs. Anna was already gone; she'd never really existed. I could feel myself leaving her, leaving them. Leaving him. He made me feel real. That should have been enough.
Dean doesn't belong to me, he never did. He belongs to Castiel. How was I to know he'd already been claimed by an Angel. Marked by him. I couldn’t have realized how deeply committed Castiel was until I met him, saw his face, the way he looked at Dean. It's not just following orders for him, either. And it's not Dean Winchester. It's the fallibility of Angels. It's in our nature to fall.
It happens all the time. Angels everywhere, falling into the complicated little traps of human emotion. In places where the stakes may not be higher, but the body count is. The places where the legends of the dark are born. Places of power. Demons rise everywhere and we are called to fight them. Mankind needs me.
And I need them.
I try hard not to live in the rain that falls over Dean's face, try not to inhabit every drop that sheens over his skin, caressing every world-weary crease. He doesn't feel me, angels treat so lightly. If he misses me he doesn't let on.
Time is different here, it's too soon before I look again and see a fifty-year old man, swinging axes at demons and once again saving young innocents.
Sam is there too, and oddly enough, Ruby. Now I can barely distinguish her demon nature. I can only sense her original nature and I recognize that Ruby has taken great strides. Dean and Sam have a running joke about the Angel Who Got Away and how if she'd hung around they would have their happy family of four. A perfect lucky charm against the darkness.
I can't go to them. Much as I would like to. I can't kiss Dean's withered face with even the finest fiber of the tip of my wings. I can never go back.
Eventually I can see that Castiel has taken my place. He fights alongside these now-grown men and their demon. They have their four, despite all appearances. Castiel hasn't yet told them he too has fallen from Grace and no longer works in their best interests as far as Heaven is concerned. Dean and Sam will spend eternity in Hell, no matter whose side they're fighting on.
The first time Castiel seduces Dean, Dean knows he's going back. He probably even knows as he fucks Castiel that the angel is giving up his own hope of Grace, letting it go like a baby turning from its mother to the bottle. Castiel is disgraced, but his cries of sensual pleasure as Dean enters him and pushes him off into the oblivion of human desire say more to me than any chorus I hear on high.
I try to remember my human name and it doesn't come to me. Not even at Dean's funeral, where I watch Castiel lift Dean's spirit from his grave and attach it to his father's old notebook. Dean will haunt his brother until it's Sam's turn and then, who knows. Ruby probably has plans for the two of them. Dean's destiny is with Castiel, and the ghost and the fallen angel often lie near a lake, sheltered by the comfort of trees, covered by the angel's black wings, the wings drawn up together as if they were a boat or a giant cocoon. It's a bit of peace for warriors of that sort. God and the Devil leave them alone.
I swim as a fish nearby, float like a moonbeam over them; a gentle wind that keeps them sailing out, far from shore.
.