I CANT STOP MAKJNG BLUEINK FANART GUUUHHH I LOVE THEM SO BAD!!
‘bonus doodle (WIP):
Bendy taunts him and pokes at him, Mugman often takes it but doesn’t mean he won’t respond. So back at Bendy he does the same. He believes in equal treatment lol.
Yeah their monster versions are also toxic and love each other…
Imagine hating a demon so much you imagined him as dead. But now suddenly you two had a nightstand and you don’t know how to feel about him now… bonus if his illness hits him after that night aswell.
so like.. seeing the analog angel… it’s so peak. I was wondering if I can req a Sam x Angel reader? The analog one :D
Where Reader and Sam are secretly seeing each other since reader is intrigued at Sam’s powers (also being half demon blood). Sam is seeing them too bc they freak out Dean. Fr like “You don’t understand them, they’re nice.” To defend reader towards Dean.
Radio…Waves~!🪽
| Socials | Masterlist | Intro | Rules | ~ 📺🪽
𐂂 S2!Sam Winchester x Analog Angel!Reader | Fluff, lots of exposition/plot, heart-to-heart conversation, reader loves flowers and machinery, shy-ish Sammy, angry-ish Dean
Summary: Sam’s been taking late night walks and coming back with flowers. Is he seeing someone romantic in secret? Dean thinks so….but he has no idea that his brother is actually preparing to introduce to him a scary looking, but friendly, angel.
Notes: HI AGAIN! I’m sorry this took so freaking long, I hope you like it~!!! <333
Sammy’s not the ‘stay out late just for fun’ one between him and Dean, though lately that’s started to change. To Dean, it seems like his brother isn’t even having fun when he’s out— no stumbling in drunk, no giggles or cute girl by his side for the night. Instead he’s been….collecting flowers? Each morning, the collection of flowers by his brother’s laptop continues to grow. Dean wonders if it’s code for some taboo sexual encounter, and if he should start secretly taking up whatever it is too.
📍 Napa-Sonoma Valley, CA
Sam wanders around aimlessly among endless hills sprinkled with windmills. The walk was far, and somewhat boring for that matter. His EMF is turned on to track the whereabouts of his ‘friend’. He’s actually unsure of the nature of their relationship as there isn’t really a fitting title for the two.
The EMF suddenly crackles and a short circuiting sound pops. He’s in the right spot.
“Hello…?” Sam calls out. A gust of wind passes through in a shiver. “It’s Sam! Remember, from last week?”
“Hello…..”
Sam looks up. At the top of a nearby windmill, you stand gracefully at its edge. The blades of the machine spin slower than usual with you present. “You said you would bring company. Where are they?” Your voice only echoes into his ear with a booming presence. Sam whips around to where you now stand on the soft soil, towering behind him. He still has to get used to this. He’s been around angels before— but a creature like you rearranges the very meaning of an angel by swallowing and coughing up scrabble letters. Sam looks up at someone for the first time in his life, stuttering over his words, unsuccessfully trying to explain that Dean isn’t very ‘angel friendly’— even more if a haunting creature like you greeted him.
You smile tenderly and huff out a laugh. Sammy’s always been bad at lying to you. That’s the funny thing about you anyway: for someone so ominously terrifying, you are, in Sam’s words (though he wouldn’t admit it) a ‘complete sweetheart’. Shy in nature and friendly to familiars, your presence is what concerns Sam with Dean’s impression of you.
“Dean isn’t here today,” Sam murmurs. “We can’t be serious about meeting him on a hill.” That’s the best excuse he can come up with, you suppose. You sit beside your human— your Sammy. That boy is as human as you are with demon blood flowing through his veins. It’s what makes him so intriguing, after all. You sit by Sam’s feet with the expectation that he’ll join in on enjoying the grass. He does.
“I can hear it all: The worms beneath the Earth, the windmills slowing down when I get close to them, your heart pumping, your cursed blood flushing through your veins—“ you slump over so your head rests gently on Sammy’s arm. “I like you. I want to meet your brother. Is he as kind as you?”
The hunter’s cheeks turn pink, and not from the windburns. Since his identity reveal from human to half-blood, it’s been impossible to find someone who can see past his tainted fate.
You’ve been that saving grace.
“He’s…kind, I guess, but not nice.”
“Oh. …..Does he like dandelions?” You thread your fingers through the blades of grass until you hit the stems of dandelions. A few find themselves being plucked and placed, as a peace offering, into the hands of Sammy Winchester.
“I dunno, Angel.”
A silvery wing begins to push through your neck. Dammit. Like Sammy overrun with demon blood, containing anything with your level of power is damn near impossible. The angel in you longs for freedom, and it materializes in the form of sprouting from your vessel. And iust as Sam has felt isolated, the two of you sought comfort in understanding each other’s pain. Before you can reach for it, Sam sits up on his knees and places both hands on the protruding wing, cramming it back into your neck.
“I got it, I got it.”
His hands are coated in a thin, runny layer of blood now, and the nearby windmill slows to a stop.
Hours pass by slowly. The two of you lay tangled in the embrace of plucked dandelions and one another. Sam’s heartbeat slows to a calm rhythm that you can hear from beneath his ribcage— perhaps it’s because the sun has retired for the day and monsters can’t get to him just yet.
“Can you turn it back on?” You question.
“Hm?”
“The windmills.”
Sam sits up to face you, blood from the accident still on his cuffs and shirt collar. His eyes travel from your giant frame to the blades of the windmill.
“W…what makes you think I can?”
“Word travels that you can do anything.”
“From God?”
“I assume so. I hear from the others. I choose to ‘hang up’ when God calls for me. He doesn’t need to know about my time alongside the Boy with the Demon Blood.”
“Oh. Well…I don’t think God expects me to use psychic headaches to turn on windmills.”
“You are something to God and to Us beyond a chronic headache. It would be nice to move the windmills though.”
Sam laughs. He grabs a fistful of plucked dandelions and admires them. How can a creature like you be so nonchalant about his internal deformities? If anything, a force of heaven should strike him down before he brings hell on Earth. The dirt grows cold and worms begin to penetrate through the grass which thoroughly entertain you. If your wings could exist freely, they’d flutter with joy.
“Y’know what?” Sam spouts. “I changed my mind.”
“Ah?” In between petting the earthworms you shift your attention to the hunter.
Sam stands up and holds a hand out: “I want you to meet Dean. You can zap us over to the motel and you can tell him what I’ve been doing, I don’t care what he thinks about us. Maybe he’ll finally stop arguing with me about whether angels exist when you turn up.”
“What changed your mind?” You stand up and shake the worms off your body with help from the gentle breeze.
“I…I don’t know, I think I just think that—“
“Sammy!”
Sam gasps. How did he…?
“Sam!”
A familiar set of bowlegs trudge across the hills toward the two of you. The younger hunter tenses at his brother’s voice. “Dean!?”
You shyly step behind your human counterpart. For a man so small (in comparison to you) he’s quite daunting.
“Sammy, what the hell is going on? I call you, I leave voicemails, I ask you where you’re going— do you know how damn hard it was to find you?” Dean’s gruff voice booms in the silence. You wonder if he’s always like this, and how Sam deals with a dynamo of a brother.
“Dean, just- calm down, okay?” Sam pleads. “You’re scaring them!”
“I’m confused, Sammy!” He roars; he shuts up at ‘them’. You briefly exchange eye contact with the angry man, shying away. “Sammy what the hell is that thing?”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you, Dean.” Sam retorts. He urges you forward to which you comply, clutching some dandelions for comfort. “They’re not going to do anything, I promise.”
You wave timidly at Dean, smiling. The hunter reaches for his gun. “Sam, get behind me—“
“That won’t do anything,” you murmur. Dean holds up the gun anyway.
“No, Dean!” Sam shouts. The boys break into a heated argument, expressing their frustration to the vast hills to listen.
‘Kind, but not nice’ now makes perfect sense.
Sam forces the gun from his brother’s hand, pushing it to the ground and kicking it down the hill.
Dean yells in frustration when his brother forces him not to chase after the firearm. “Goddammit!”
“Just listen—“
“This is what you spend your nights doing? Pickin’ flowers with a monster?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. Dean has no clue what to do with this information. “Here I was thinkin’ you were out doing somethin’ with a girl o-or a dude if you were into that. But you’re here with what? Some kinda—?“
“Angel.” You whisper.
“Dean.” Sam speaks softly. “They’re here to help me. To help us! I don’t get headaches when I’m around them, I don’t constantly have to think that I’ll be ambushed, they can help us with yellow eyes! Really, De, it’s innocent fun!”
Dean sees the way your presence brings a calm to Sam. Your hand gently snakes around the young hunter’s arm in reassurance, once again offering dandelions to smell and touch.
“….Angels are real?.” Sam nods. Dean checks his watch. “They don’t do nothin’ to you?”
Sam shakes his head no.
“Get to the car Sammy.”
“Why? I—“
“Go.”
Before Sam can take a step, you gently wrap your arms around the boy, squeezing him into a tight and (spiritually) warm hug, He goes off.
You now stand alone with Dean, arms resting at your sides like a scolded child. You wonder what Dean is going to do to you. Dean places his hand on your shoulder and motions for you to crouch.
He whispers into your ear: “I don’t know who or what you are. But you take care’a that kid, y’hear?”
You nod vigorously.
“Good. Don’t? And a bottle’a holy oil might find its way fueling a fire on the hill.”
He turns back and walks to the car. “Oh, and one more thing—“
You’re gone.
…
From the car, they see the windmills start up again, and the Winchesters’ pockets stuffed with dandelions.
So sorry for inactivity! Currently doing a lot of personal projects and college classes have been STACKING UP. I’d like to spend some time on myself for now hence I’ll be putting @thewestsidearc on hiatus! So sorry for the inconvenience :( motivation has been down low and I started it thinking I’d have more of that 😭
doesnt mean I’ll stop doodling these bad boys! I’ll probably introduce more of the MOTM characters in my AU, and will branch out the story further as mini comics or scenes :)) u can expect animatics of this AU <333
Please please please read the original blueink fan comic HERE! This was just as fun as the first one ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)
Thank you so much again @biposi for letting me animate your art <3 and @kiksmelbre for letting me use your voice! Which you can listen to their full voice over on tiktok HERE!
And here's the first animation I did for this comic as well (as a gif cause I can't have 2 videos on the same post T^T)
Btw this is all fan content for the comic @myth-of-the-machine by @nortsauce and @flygutzz!!!!
Animating comic panels has been a blast and i'm hoping to do some from the Myth comic itself next ;)
Aaaand...This is the thing I've been working on for a while, something I've been working really hard on, and something I'm SO PROUD of! COLLABORATE WITH @bendy-inkling !!!!!!!!!!
This is a very sweet and incredibly warm piece of art! Thank you for agreeing to draw it with me >//////<
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