#it’s reaching spn levels of ‘what now’

[wandering-winchesters]

Every Embrace

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2,218

Summary: How sharing a bed with Dean Winchester started and where it is now.

Trigger Warnings: SPN level Violence, mostly fluff.

Requested: Yes, by Anonymous. “could you plzzzzzz make a fic where dean and Y/N share rooms or beds when on hunts and they aren’t dating but find comfort in cuddling and being near each other, especially dean. can he be the initiator and the sap for physical touch?”

A/N: Requests are open! Sorry for the lack of posts recently, life has been absolutely crazy! Hope to get back to posting regularly soon! <3 as always, please let me know what you think.

Masterlist

The first time we shared a bed was out of necessity. Dean had been driving for 10 hours straight, all of us were exhausted, sore and just tapped out for the day. The Wisconsin motel had come up suddenly, the last one for another hour. Dean had parked the impala and I had volunteered to be the one to go in and get us a room. Upon checking in, they informed me that they only had one room left, with two beds. I accepted and paid for the room, returning to the car. Intending to let Sam and Dean have the beds and I’d stay in the impala. The second I had suggested this to them it was shot down quickly. 

Dean had immediately objected, stating that he’d stay in the impala and I could have his bed. Internally, I knew that wouldn’t happen. I helped them bring the bags in, letting them get settled. Sam quickly fell asleep on his bed, his clothes a rumpled mess. Exhaustion evident by the deep sleep he had been swallowed up by. Dean had hopped in the shower, mumbling something about needing to wash off the rock salt from hunting ghosts earlier in the day. I changed into comfier clothes, grabbing a pillow off of Deans bed and the blanket that I keep in my duffle at all times and quietly closed the motel door behind me. 

I opened the back door to the impala and tossed my pillow in, spreading the blanket down over the seat before I had climbed in and shut the door behind me. I laid down, wrapped myself tight with the blanket I had brought and settled in as best I could in the cramped back seat. I had almost fallen asleep, when the door by my feet was yanked open. I yelled, fully prepared to kill whatever had decided to disturb my rest. I quickly backed off once I realized it was Dean. 

He asked what I was doing and why I was in the impala when I was supposed to take the bed. I explained that I knew he was sore and I wanted him to have the bed. He refused. After a couple minutes of arguing, he grabbed me by my ankles and pulled me towards the open door. Mumbling that we could share the bed, he wasn’t about to allow me to sleep in the car. I tried to put up a fight, but he silenced me with a look. An exhausted, pleading look. I caved, and followed him inside. He had silently crawled into the bed, his back to the middle. I had carefully settled in next to him, mirroring his position, our backs had been to one another. That was until a nightmare had woken me up, a gasp had left my lungs and I had sat straight up. Dean had immediately noticed and his hand grabbed onto my own. He pulled me down against him, silently embraced me and lulled me back to sleep. 

-

The second time was out of fear, Dean terrified to let me out of his reach for more than a second. We had unknowingly stumbled upon a hoard of demons, only making it out thanks to Sam and Deans quick thinking. I had frozen in place, fear overwhelmed my senses which allowed one of the demons to throw me head first down a set of stairs. I had blacked out, a concussion another injury to add to my long list of hunting ailments. I had awoken to Dean shaking my shoulders, his face swimming before my eyes like the image seen inside of a kaleidoscope. His words had been silent and they had fallen on deaf ears, a temporary loss of hearing plagued my senses, only to return a short time later. He had pulled me into his arms, cradled me close against him and rushed me out to the impala. His grasp on me firm, but gentle. Once we returned safely to the motel, he ignored my every protest and cleaned me up to his satisfaction. 

The cut on my forehead and my splitting headache the only proof of the internal injury that was my concussion. He shushed me as he applied the bandage to my forehead, his eyes scanned my own for any hint of pain that he had not addressed. Once he was satisfied, he helped me down off the counter. A heavy silence had fallen between us, I was exhausted and simply didn’t have the energy for the argument that I was sure was going to follow. It didn’t however, he simply hugged me. His arms tight around my waist, his chin rested against the crown of my head. His breathing was escalated, sharp and had the edge of panic. I hugged him back, allowing his touch to calm me. I only let go when he pulled away, I had believed that was the last of it for the night. 

I bid him goodnight and began to head for the motel door. He stopped me with his words, insisting that it wasn’t a good idea for me to go sleep in a room by myself, the concussion reason enough for me to stay in there with him and Sam. I had hesitated, not wanting an argument, but also afraid of getting to used to the comfort that sharing a bed with him provided. We still hadn’t spoken about the first time it had happened, the way that we had woken up in the others arms. Once we had both woken up, we were quick to roll apart, making excuses for our unconscious behavior. 

The pleading look on Dean’s face was enough to convince me to stay that night. So for the second time, we climbed into the same bed. I faced the outside of the bed, my back to Dean’s. Yet this time, it didn’t last more than thirty seconds. He had immediately pulled me back against him, his arm wrapped snuggly around my waist. His chest pressed to my back, his chin cradled my the curve of my shoulder up to my neck. I couldn’t tell which one of us needed it more in that moment, his touch eased my pain. Little did I know, I eased his pain too. His was mental, mine was physical. We had both fallen asleep embracing the other, lulled into peaceful dreams by the other person. 

-

I can’t tell you when the third time turned to the fourth, the fourth to the fifth ,or the fifth to the sixth. It was a natural progression, as easy as breathing. A fresh breath of air on a foggy morning, easy and clear. Refreshing. The situations varied, but one thing never changed. Dean was always the one to initiate the physical contact. 

We no longer looked for multiple rooms at motels, the bed in the bunker that I had claimed began to go unused. Our need for the other person became so great that we could no longer ignore it. It was platonic, comforting and necessary for survival. The unknown ache that had settled over my should was slowly being eased. The need for another person, physical touch and emotional comfort had finally been fulfilled in a way that I never saw coming. If you had told me years ago when I stumbled upon the Winchester brothers that I would seek comfort in the eldest, I would have laughed in your face and called you crazy. However, now that I am here, shrouded in the safety that was Dean, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. The darkness of the room normally would have been anxiety causing, the nightlight that remained plugged in to the outlet of my room in the bunker is no longer necessary. 

I no longer fear that monsters that might be lurking on the edge of the darkness, I no longer fear the darkness within my own head. All of these have been driven far away from my every thought, all of that due to the man who’s arms I am wrapped in at this very moment. It had changed from the inability to sleep when we shared a bed, due to anxiety over waking him up or the fear of letting him in, to the inability to sleep without him next to me. I craved his touch and that scared me more than I thought physically possible.

“Whatcha reading, Y/N?” Dean asks, his bare feet silent as he enters the room. I glance up from the book I was scanning, my eyes darting over the low hanging sweatpants adorning his hips, his bare chest and shoulders only covered by the fabric of his unbuttoned flannel before locking with his own. I hum, considering my next words carefully. While I had been sitting with this book for the last hour, I had not been reading. I had been thinking, over analyzing every time we had shared a bed or grown closer over the last few months. The emotional connection that I had with the green eyed Winchester standing in front of me, something I never could have predicted.  “I, Uh-couldn’t really tell you,” I laugh, snapping the book shut and setting it on the table next to me. “Was thinking more than reading I guess.” I shrug my shoulders and try to brush off the look that he is giving me. One eyebrow raised, his lip caught between his teeth in the way that I know means he is debating on whether to tease me or let it go. He chooses the latter, remaining silent, but sitting down next to me on the couch. He nods and hands me a beer, that he had already taken the cap off of. Another thing that he had started doing for me, without my asking. It was little things like this that had caused me to question exactly what was going on between us, the silent things that he had started doing for me. 

“What had you so lost in thought?” He asks, his hand pulling my legs across his lap. He rubs his fingers gently into the muscle of my calf, working out a knot that I didn’t know was there until his firm touch brushed against it. I shrug again, taking a sip of my beer in order to delay my response a bit longer. He had been so touchy recently, not that I minded. It was there, a need for physical affection, I had buried it long ago. Yet the second his body brushed my own, it was roaring like a lion. Needy and vocal, rearing to be released from the internal cage I had locked it in so long ago. 

“You.” I mutter, the word leaving my mouth before I can even think to stop it. A flush washes over my face, my cheeks turning red. I can feel deans eyes on me, but I refuse to meet his gaze. I am paying close attention to a slight imperfection in the glass of the beer bottle. 

“What about me?” He asks, his hand squeezing my thigh gently. I hesitate, wondering if I really want to vocalize my next thought. 

“About how you’ve been so affectionate recently, I don’t mind it at all. I love it. But it confuses me, we haven’t talked about it. And I just, it leaves me to wonder, you know?” I say, the last words leaving my mouth an almost silent whisper. 

“Wonder what, sweetheart?” He asks, his tone flirtatious and cocky. It’s only then that I look up and I’m greeted by a grin plastered across his lips. He’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying my hesitation and embarrassment. I smack his arm playfully, my eyebrows tugging together in a look that tells him to knock it off. 

“Okay, okay.” He says, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Wonder, what Y/N?” He asks again, his tone returning to seriousness. 

“What does this mean De?” I sigh, resting my head against my hand and staring back at him. He turns to face me, his hands resting on each of my thighs. I can see that he’s choosing his next words carefully which causes anxiety to bubble up within me. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, everyone needs physical touch. It’s part of being human.” He says and my heart falls. The hope that had been building within me for something more with him quickly crumbles. 

“Or, if you wanted it to mean more than just friendly affection, that would be okay too.” My eyes snap back to his once more, confusion flashing over my features. He smiles softly at me, his eyes searching my own for an answer. My voice is lost to me, so I nod. The only response necessary to communicate how I felt at that moment. 

Even though we hadn’t labeled the things we both felt for the other, it was no longer a concern at that moment. Every embrace was enough to keep the other going. For now, being wrapped up in his arms and listening to his soft snores every night would be all that I need. Maybe one day that could change and we could delve deeper into the feelings that we shared. But for now, sharing a bed would be enough. 

tag list: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester

#deanwinchesterxreader #supernatural dean #dean winchester #deanwinchesterblurb #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #deanwinchesterfluff #sam and dean #dean x you #dean x reader #spn #sam winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural #dean x yn #dean x reader fluff #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader imagine #dean winchester x you #Dean Winchester x Female!Reader #fluff #fluffy #dean fluff #supernatural spn #wanderingwinchesters #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x injured reader

[eisforeidolon]

It really does seem that getting too deep into niche shipping fandom absolutely kills some people's media literacy. Like, I was reading this interesting anon post on Nancy's blog [X] about following a rewatcher going on about bi lighting and expecting a romantic HEA from fucking Supernatural and it sent my brain off on a tangent.

I mean, I remember thinking literary interpretation in school was so fucking absurd when it got to the point of analyzing a goddamn autobiography and waffling on about the author remembering the grass in the spring being green when they moved as a symbol of rebirth. As absurd as I still think interpreting on that level is? It did work thematically, because the interpretation matches the surface level of the story - that was when the character's life started through a period of growth/rebirth. Did they intentionally mention the grass for the symbolism of the color green, consciously or unconsciously? Fuck if I know (or care, tbh).

The problem with the way hellers (and other similar conspiracy shippers) try to use this kind of interpretation is that they ignore several majorly important factors that apply when you're talking about an open canon rather than a closed one where you know the ending. When you do this with a story that's finished, where you know the whole picture? Even if you're so openminded about what the story could have been despite all genre conventions and other outside information that your brain is on the verge of falling out and rolling away down a hill? You can filter out the noise of potential symbols and meanings that do not match that finished, overarching story. And there is a lot of fucking noise, because our brains really, really like to find patterns whether they exist or not - but most random details are not intentional symbolism, and most symbols do not have one single definitive meaning. With any sufficiently large text (which SPN definitely is), you could pick out enough random symbols and meanings to point to literally any-fucking-thing you wanted as a possibility - but without knowing the end that's no more an indication of what direction the story is actually heading than any other randomly chosen set of symbols and meanings.

In the above example, let's say you don't know anything about autobiographies in general, that author's life in particular, and stopped reading at that chapter to try and predict what'll happen next. Aha, the grass out of the window when they moved in spring was GREEN! Well, yes, that might symbolize growth and the character's life finally starting on a new positive path now. But green can also symbolize naivety and/or hope, and that could have been a brief shining moment of good possibilities before things went even more to shit. Hell, it can also mean jealousy, where maybe it would turn out their best friend who stayed behind got an opportunity they missed because they moved. Not only are those not the only possible symbolic meanings of the color? The author might have also just decided to describe the grass out the window as green because grass is generally fucking green in spring, yo. A major part of the reason someone can sit and pontificate about the ~*deep symbolic meaning*~ of that passage without potentially being obviously hilariously wrong is that they DO know where it ultimately leads and have tossed out the interpretations that explicitly don't fit the story.

What the shippers in question try to do is insist they know what the ending HAS TO BE ... because reasons. As such, every single symbol they find which could potentially signal that ending must be doing so, despite any number of other possible meanings ... because reasons. Naturally the symbols that they find are actually meaningful symbols as opposed to every single other random detail in the story with potential meaning ... because reasons. Then we reach the end of the story and they're oh-so-shocked that because reasons ... isn't a real basis for anything, actually. HOW COULD MY AMAZING INTERPRETATIONS HAVE BEEN SO WRONG WHEN I CHERRY-PICKED THEM SO CAREFULLY? CONSPIRACY! HATE CRIME! WAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! There was never any basis for their assumption they knew those symbols were legitimately symbols with significance, let alone their assumption they knew the ending - other than their own fixation and entitlement.

Just to finally drive the point home about how absurd it all is? In my original autobiography example, we're talking about an autobiography of a famously successful person. Any remotely savvy reader can make pretty reasonable guesses from the genre conventions of autobiographies, that person being Known Name successful, and context in the surrounding text about how important that move was going to be to the author's life to be such a focus - and therefore what things in the surrounding text might be *cough* reasonable symbolic signposts. There's still some potential to be wrong about the particulars of that moment, but it's a more educated guess about where the story is likely to go because of everything you know about the protagonist and the genre.

Similarly, any remotely savvy watcher who has some familiarity with horror fantasy as a genre, who spent fifteen seasons watching a show where everyone fucking dies and two brothers are obsessively and intensely brothering each other to the exclusion of all their other relationships every episode, from every single premiere through every single finale? Nevermind anyone who also basically ever heard the showrunners and stars talk about it? Is not going to reasonably think, oh, hey, this is totally going to end with the single central relationship of the show indifferently separating to turn into a fluffy HEA romcom with random side characters. Even if you take off the ending of that sentence which is "because I totally found a bunch of secret clues in food and lighting that told me so".

It makes no fucking sense on a micro interpretation level of symbolism and signposts, and it makes no fucking sense on a macro interpretation level of genre and overarching themes. But, like, they really wanted it, so who cares about that? Um, all the rest of us who actually liked the show for what it was, not an entirely different thing we tried to convince ourselves it would eventually have to be ... because reasons. Especially anyone who gives even half a shit about how decent storytelling in media actually works.

#destiew #destihellers #bad meta #long post

[torturedpoetemotions]

Actually @mybrainproblems you have me reaching for my redacted-omitted-gunshots finale conspiracist tinhat again now because like. I look at all of Dabb's previous work and I look at 15x20 and I just think. Like. WHAT could possibly incentivize any writer, any storyteller, whether character or plot driven, to write an ending THAT horribly bad on every level for a show and character they put over a decade of work into??? And then I started thinking...what could possibly make ME do that? Is there anything?

And the first answer was no, but then the second answer was "someone else planning to do something even worse."

With everything we now KNOW is true about network interference and censorship of SPN basically from season 6 onward, with all those omitted script sections, with all the BTS details that were never, ever explained, and with the conflicting (but consistently so) reports from various actors and writers of different endings that got shifted/changed...I will never believe that any of the SPN writers, least of all Andrew "domesticate that masculine power fantasy" Dabb, actually liked or wanted that ending or thought it was in any way good. It's giving "mercy kill my child before the invading forces capture us" so fucking hard.

#supernatural #andrew dabb #fuck the finale

[hologramcowboy]

You make interesting points about a lot of things in the supernatural fandom!

I’ve always thought the Jared was the asshole of the dynamic, but boy oh boy was I wrong! He’s really sweet and real, I like that!

Also, I’m not really a “fan”, sure I’ve watched some eps when I was younger but not really a fan! Now I’m watching non-stop, I have a few observations:

1) this show is about family, always has been!

2) Dean’s actions sometimes rub the wrong way!

3) Sam was pretty reasonable character!

4) Destiel it’s not real, never has been and never will! Those shippers are just insane!

5) the show gets progressively more ridiculous!

Yes, my absolute favorite thing about Supernatural is the unconditional bond between brothers. Despite conflicts, challenges, despite the whole world, Sam and Dean love each other.

I feel the same way about Dean, especially in later season when Jensen took OTT acting and choices to a cringe level.

Sam has a lot of layers and I adore a story where someone reaches the deepest darkness and lowest of lows and then breaks through and evolves, transforms his pain. A story like that is very empowering in providing hope.

Hellers are set on projecting their need for validation by abusing the actors and violating their sexuality and indentity. There's nothing wrong with loving ships but they should never violate an actor's wellbeing and they should never be claimed as real. It saddens me that hellers are so caught up in their inability to love and accept themselves that they forcefully project this ship unto reality. I get that they come from deep pain but I wish they would find healthy ways to celebrate who and what they are without violating the actors and disconnecting from reality.

SPN did lose quality somewhere down the line but it's main throughline and the thing that unites us all survived: the unconditional love between Sam and Dean. I really wish Jensen had taken inspiration from that depth for his prequel ( The Winchesters) instead of creating such a vapid "love story" that was anything but a love story.

Thank you for this lovely post! 💕

#love my anons

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

The Deal

Supernatural Masterlist

Summary: Since they were stuck in Purgatory together, they had a deal and that deal was simple. Daylight was for survival, fights, and finding Cas. Night time was for what they craved the most. For Benny, it was his blood. And for Dean, it was something he could never tell anyone. 

Pairing: Dean x Benny

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut, p in a, unprotected sex, bottom!Dean, top!Benny, pain kink, biting, biting kink, rough sex, blood, blood drinking, spn level of violence

Square: Free space for @spnkinkevents​ / Pain kink for @anyfandomgoesbingo​ / Biting for @mfbingo​

A/n: I’m very close to the deadline, but here you go! This is set in season 7, Dean is in purgatory with Benny. Enjoy and don’t forget to leave a feedback!

Can be also read on AO3

It was pure.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins seemed insatiable. At every moment, it burned his limbs with a sudden energy, and here he was again. To the right he moved, then it was behind him, another one on his left, they were all around but he saw everything. Felt everything. The heavy machete in his hand, the bark of the wood he had used to make it now smooth against his skin due to wear. The blade that could split even the air in two. And when it met the flesh of his enemy to sink into it, it was easy, soft and fluid, like a knife through butter. It cut through everything in its path, skin, muscle, bone, without encountering any resistance. The head falling to the ground, the dull sound it made, no matter if it fell in the water or on the soft earth. And the scents… The metallic smell of blood was so steeped in his nose, he couldn't even smell it anymore.

He felt all of that like he was connected to it.

His muscles were burning with fatigue after all those days and nights spent without really resting. But that burn, he barely felt it, because the adrenaline never stopped flowing in him... Just like the blood of his enemies that flowed red, one of the only colors still alive in this place.

The world here was black and white. The sensations were like a mirage, moving, walking, everything seemed to slow down. It was like he had to walk underwater, his body felt lighter, but moving was more difficult.

Maybe it was just the dangerous buildup of fatigue. He had no idea. Because he couldn't stop, not for more than a few hours when they had the chance.

The dull sound reached his ears again, his now desaturated green eyes stared at the head rolling in front of him. Red invaded his sight.

“I think this was the last one of the pack, chief. We should head back soon.”

Red. So much red. His gaze stayed on the decapitated head and he didn't flinch. Completely still, he continued to stare at what was left of their enemy, only his heavy breathing could be heard. His shoulders rose and fell almost exaggeratedly, it was harsh and noisy.

“Dean.”

Hearing his name brought him back to himself, like a rope pulling him out of the water. His name, his last part of humanity. Down here, there was nothing that connected him to the real world, where his friends and family still were. His only motivation was to find his lost friend and leave this place because it was the right thing to do.

And because the longer Dean stayed in purgatory… The more he seemed to blend into this apocalyptic world. And the less attractive the idea of getting out of it was.

"Let's go."

Benny nodded even though his friend wasn't looking at him. The hunter's eyes were still on the head lying at his feet. A few seconds later and it was as if nothing had happened, and Dean was walking in the opposite direction without looking back.

The cave where they rested was not far away, and it took no less than an hour for them to get there. They never stayed in one place for too long, Dean’s human and delicious scent attracted all kinds of monsters, and not even Benny could detect them all. When the sun was shining in this colorless sky, the duo had only one goal. Survive. Find Castiel. And the night was for what they needed most.

And while the hunter rested, the vampire stood guard. It wasn't like Dean really slept anyway, the adrenaline was still there in him, he could feel it continually in him. But Benny still preferred to keep an eye out.

“You need to rest, chief.”

They had just arrived and Dean refused to lay down or even sit. That was nothing new, especially after a fight. It was the moment when the adrenaline was the strongest in him, it was like a drug. His high was strong, he was still experiencing it, and it was hard to get off.

"I don't care about resting, Benny. We had a deal.” The hunter was pacing in front of the cave, his dirty hands running through his hair which was starting to get really long. It didn’t matter how many times Benny cut it with his blade, it was always too long and grew too fast. Dean tugged his locks in frustration and turned to his friend. “What, you want your part first? I don’t care, take it.”

"It's not that Dean," Benny sighed as he took a few steps towards him, but Dean ignored his words and pulled his jacket off. The vampire rubbed his eyes and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You need to rest.”

“What can happen anyway,” Dean groaned and when Benny looked up, he found himself so close to Dean that his eyes had to focus to see him properly. "I'm already in hell."

“You know you can die in purgatory, right?” Benny asked, still hesitant. However, it was getting increasingly difficult to say no. Especially when Dean started to unbutton his shirt a few buttons, enough to slide his hand under his collar and pull it aside. He always wore the collar up as extra protection against the fangs he battled by day. But by night… He didn’t need the protection and recklessly exposed his throat to the monster in front of him. “Dean…”

“I know you want it. You don't crave blood like when you were alive, but you like it.” Seeing that Benny still seemed to hesitate, a long growl of frustration sounded in Dean's chest. “Fine.” Disappearing from the vampire’s sight for a few moments, Dean came back quickly but now he was holding something in his hands. His weapon he used to fight.

"Dean, no," Benny grabbed Dean's wrist and sighed again. The hunter waited patiently without moving. "With that, you'll just bleed to death." Benny picked up the blade and put it on the ground. Thirst and hunger, he no longer felt them. However… “You still haven't healed,” his cold fingers brushed the scars still present on Dean's neck. Small holes in rows one behind the other, two half-moons meeting each on their side.

Since he was still holding Dean's wrist, Benny began to examine it. And the longer he stared at that part of the human's body, the more he began to salivate. His fangs came out in spite of himself, sharp, and his mouth parted as his eyes were obsessed with that fragile skin.

“Go on,” Dean hastily rolled his sleeve up to his elbow. “But be sure to not make a mess, we don’t want to- fuck!”

Dean couldn't even finish his sentence that a strong burn spread through his forearm. After several times, he got used to the pain, but the feeling... It was still unpleasant. And not because he didn't like it.

As Benny drank his blood, he held Dean's arm with both hands. He was feeding and letting out moans of appreciation without holding back, he loved it. Loved the taste of blood. Even if he didn't feel the unbearable hunger for it, he liked it and wasn’t ashamed of showing it.

Dean liked it too. A bit too much.

After a few seconds, the pressure on his wrist disappeared and Benny took a few steps back, wiping his mouth. Immediately, Dean wrapped a piece of cloth around the wound, wincing at how sore it still was.

“Satisfied?” Dean grumbled, trying to hide his true feelings by showing displeasure.

"Yes," Benny replied, his breathing rapid and deep. He looked at the human with a surprisingly even hungrier look than before he fed, his eyes burning and unsated. “I think you enjoyed it too, Dean.”

Without looking at it, Dean knew what his friend was talking about. Last time, he attributed it to the excitement that it was his turn to finally get what he needed. But he couldn't deny it anymore… The uncomfortable lump that was deforming his pants was strictly caused by Benny's bite. "Shut up," Dean swore, entering the cave after picking up his jacket. "It's my turn now."

Of course, he wasn't going to talk about it with Benny. Talking about his feelings, how what they shared was the only thing that still made him feel alive. How much he loved that control he had over his own pain. How giving his trust and literally putting his life in Benny's hands made him feel human. And how the pain… Burning, pinching, feeling his blood leave his body, excited him.

It was very dark in the cave, and that was exactly what Dean wanted. He didn't want to see, he just wanted to feel. To feel the touch, the weight of another body against his, anything to remember what it was like before.

That was the deal. The day was for survival. Find Castiel. And the night was for what they both needed most. For Benny, it was the gluttony of being able to drink human blood without feeling hungry. And for Dean, it was something he could never tell anyone. Something he refused to even think about. Something he refused to look at.

In the cave, he settled his jacket on the cold ground. Then he took off his shirt and put it next to it, and finally his pants and underwear. He didn't have to undress for that, he didn't have to do anything. He was the one who wanted it, after all. Benny didn't force anything.

Dean laid on his side on his clothes. It was more comfortable than lying on the cold hard rock directly, but Dean was shaking all the same. In purgatory, it was impossible to feel. Neither hunger, nor thirst, nor cold. But it wasn't necessary. Because the place was so empty and full at the same time, so dead and alive, so bare that it was overwhelming. And all those things Dean couldn't physically feel were omnipresent in him. Hunger, but not for food. The hunger for a touch, for a reality, for the heat of the sun on his skin. Thirst for control, even if it was only one thing. And cold. It was so cold… He needed a presence with him and that was one of the reasons for the deal he made with Benny.

Benny’s skin wasn't warm, but feeling the body pressing behind him filled Dean with heat. A single moan of relief escaped his mouth as the vampire’s naked chest pressed against his back. His hips were placed against his butt and Dean could feel the hardness poking his back, meaning that, like him, Benny wanted it. Eventually, his legs intertwined with his and strong arms wrapped around his figure.

It always started like this. Only a touch, body against body, to exist in the same space. Then, slowly, things became more… Intense.

Benny didn't move at first, but after a while when only their breathing could be heard echoing in the cave, his hands wandered. Caressing Dean's shoulders first, he traveled the body in front of him, exploring it with his fingertips and tracing every muscle of his chest. Chills immediately swept over Dean, his skin filling with goosebumps at the vampire's touch. A growl followed and Benny got the message.

The exploration of his hands descended to finally stop near Dean's hips. There, he gripped the flesh and squeezed, knowing without words that this was one of those times. It was not the time for hugs and touches. Dean wanted it now and without delay.

It was one of those times he needed to feel something intense, just to have something to feel.

No words were needed to understand each other. It wasn't the first time they'd done this, the bite marks that covered Dean's body were proof of that. The older ones were only beginning to fade.

With one of his hands still firmly gripping Dean's hip, Benny roughly turned him onto his stomach and forced him to raise his pelvis. Dean let himself be manipulated like he was only a rag doll waiting to be used. Benny didn’t wait, because neither of them wanted that or were patient enough, and entered a finger directly into him. There was no preparation or care, it had to be raw and rough, that’s what Dean wanted. Benny only used his spit as lubricant, and even if it helped a bit, it removed none of the pain.

Dean welcomed the intrusion, the pain and the burn with pleasure. A small moan mixed with a growl of discomfort escaped his lips, but Benny didn't stop. Dean rested his head against his clothes and took deep breaths as Benny started moving his finger and added a second without waiting. The hunter's body tensed, he clutched his clothes and gritted his teeth, but all his muscles relaxed when the vampire finally touched his sore spot.

A long moan shook his body as Benny continued to press on his prostate every time his fingers found themselves inside to their fullest. But it was too long, the preparation took too long. To signify that he was ready, Dean reached back to grab Benny's wrist.

The absence of his fingers in him was not very long. Because as soon as the vampire pulled them out, Dean could feel something bigger pressing against his entrance, straining to enter despite the incomplete preparation. But that's what Dean wanted, he wanted to feel that pain, that burning, the divine sensation when the head finally went through the ring...

“Oh fuck…”

Dean’s length spilled some precum that fell all over his clothes, he didn't see it, but he felt it. At the same time that Benny's cock was finally inside him, Dean almost came straight away, but he managed to hold himself back.

“Can’t go further if you keep clenching, stop being a little prude and let me fuck you, will ya?”

Without waiting for his response or for him to obey, Benny continued to push into Dean. It was slow, desperately slow and a real torture for Dean as he felt every inch of the cock entering and stretching his insides to the max. He felt so full, and yet Benny kept pushing in, and when he thought he was finally completely inside, Dean was surprised there were still inches to go.

Finally, Dean felt the vampire's pelvis against his ass and understood he was completely buried inside him. Dean’s cock was so hard it hurt, but again, the human welcomed the pain as pleasure. Finally, he felt. He felt something, even if it was pain. He felt it.

"Move," Dean ordered, and the word was barely out of his mouth that Benny obeyed. Pulling completely out of him quickly took the breath out of Dean's lungs, he hadn't expected it, but what was even more intense was how Benny buried himself fully in him again. The burn spread down his back, he felt like he was being torn apart, overrun, though he knew Benny would never go that far to hurt him. He couldn’t bleed any more, or else their little arrangement would be interrupted by hungry creatures attracted by his blood.

Benny repeated the movement and this time his growl accompanied Dean's moan. It felt so good, feeling used like this, like a mere toy, being fucked without any respite or restraint. Leaving control to another but without losing it completely. It didn't take long for Dean to cum the first time, and it felt so good that he didn't even think of taking the clothes off under him so he wouldn't get them dirty. It didn't matter right now, nothing mattered except Benny and him. Benny's cock that continued to rip inside him and hit his prostate, causing moans so loud that Benny had no choice but to act.

The vampire grabbed the human's hair to pull him on his elbows and clapped his hand over his mouth with more force than intended. But that abrupt move only sent a jolt of pleasure through Dean, who tensed as a second orgasm took hold of him. It was almost dry, his balls were tight and pulled up so he could eject what little seed he had left in him. Dean's eyes rolled into the back of his head, his vision turning white as the orgasm seemed to last forever. 

Benny continued his thrusts without slowing down, but Dean was so caught up in his pleasure that he didn't notice. He didn't hear Benny's swearing or his breathing becoming more jerky and heavy. He didn't feel the hand squeeze his hip hard enough to leave a blue mark on his skin.

All he felt was the pain and pleasure of being human as Benny poured into him in a growl he couldn't hear. Then, fatigue engulfed him in a long dark tunnel and he fell asleep a few moments later.

∼ ∼ ∼

It might seem like a pretty unfair deal to some. After all, Benny was making a lot out of it. He could drink human blood in purgatory, savor it, feel the heat of the delicious liquid in his throat. And he could fuck a submissive human and break him in any way he wanted.

But in reality, he was the one who suffered the most.

The only way to get Dean to rest was to fuck him until he passed out. It was also the only way he could make him feel anything and give him a reason to keep fighting when giving up would be so easy. Not give up on Castiel, or give up on the idea of getting out of here. But giving up his humanity and simply becoming the killer machine he was meant to be. A monster like all the others here. Killing for pleasure and not for survival.

The deal kept the human sane.

And it was the same for Benny.

For Dean, it was just a deal. Fuck to forget, fuck to feel, fuck to stay alive. But for Benny, it was a way to feed his obsessions. His bloodlust would only increase tenfold when they would be out of here, but not only that. Because even if it was only sex...

Benny was beginning to feel an attachment to the human. And it was not a sane one.

The vampire watched the hunter sleep. Like that, so peaceful, so vulnerable, he didn’t look dangerous at all and yet he was his deadly predator. And Benny was his.

In here, he didn’t feel the need to feed, he did it because he could. He did it because he liked it. But out there…

Benny had no idea what he would do to not completely lose his mind over these two obsessions that lay in one sleeping person next to him.

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245​​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​​ @eevvvaa​​​ @wickedinspirations​​​ @fictional-affairs​​​ @awkward-and-indecisive​​​ @katbratsupernaturalwhore​

Supernatural Tag List: @sexyvixen7​ @stixnstripesworld​ @charred-angelwings​ @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @lyarr24​ @fiftyshadesgrl​ @this-is-me19​

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​ @siospins2​ @kazsrm67​​ @wtrpxrks​ @deanwanddamons​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @charred-angelwings​ @jensendreamland​ @deanswaywardgirl​ @happyt0exist​ @waynes-multiverse​ @djs8891​ @this-is-me19​ @syrma-sensei​

#spnkinkevent #anyfandomgoesbingo #mfbingo #Dean Winchester x Benny Lafitte #supernatural dean x benny #supernatural dean winchester x benny #supernatural smut #supernatural dean smut #supernatural dean x benny smut #supernatural denny #supernatural dean x benny lafitte #smut #purgatory!dean #the deal #biting #biting kink #pain kink

[chucksfavouriteprophet]

The Intrusion - Chapter 13

Back to The Intrusion masterlist

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The time has come to put your skills to the test. A social recluse, 2 seasoned hunters, an Angel and the King of Hell vs...well, everyone else from Hell. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 2,167

Warnings: language, spn canon-level violence, torture, strangulation, injuries, blood, descriptive process of dying and giving into it

<>

The door came down on the fifth kick. It spun forward, breaking into pieces as you ducked under the table to shelter from the flying iron. You stopped counting the number of Demons that bundled in after the seventh, as they ran down the stairs, jumped from the balcony, swung from the ceiling. You fired round after round of rock salt, mostly hitting your target, but not getting a chance to pause to actually see. Rounds were rocketing all over the room, before Dean swapped his gun out for knives dipped in holy water, flipping them and sending them circus-style towards the invasion. As they advanced towards you, Demons screeched in pain as they were hit, some tumbling in a rush and falling into a Devil's Trap that had them frustratingly pacing on the spot.

Sam was mumbling some spell under his breath, and you could see the sigils around the room glowing, but they hardly seemed to effect the rabid creatures. You glanced quickly at your team, unsure what to do. A physical fight was inevitable, and you weren't sure if you were ready for that.

"Y/N, here!" Crowley thrust some sort of silver spear at you, which you just about caught with trembling hands as soon as a scraggily vessel leapt towards you. With a grunt, you ploughed it into her stomach, causing her to contract and groan, her eyes turning black before bursting with with light and collapsing forward. You pushed her deadweight off just in time to block the next Demon making his move. You ducked as Dean pushed your shoulder down, stabbing a third creature heading in your direction.

It was chaos. They were coming from everywhere, and the more that came, the less the sigils seemed to be working. Before long, you'd lost sight of Crowley and the Winchesters, eyes only on Cas as he tried to burn away as many Demons as he could. You were left battling on your own. You used all your might to kick and punch anything that came your way, sending limbs flying. You grabbed for a bucket of holy water, pouring it over your head as a deterrent, before firing aimlessly with your gun in one hand and stabbing sporadically with the other. Whatever you were doing, it seemed to be working, and you barely felt the scratches and bruises that you were collecting from the incoming attack.

At some point, you realised the Demon's focus wasn't on you but on the boys. Sam and Dean were buried deep, and although they were fighting with all their might, there were just too many Demons for them to handle. You sprinted in the last direction you'd seen Crowley, skidding under the table to reach where he had backed into a corner. As you ran with a war cry, you sliced and diced at anything that came in contact with you, desperate to get across the room.

"Crowley, do something!" you screeched at him, desperation getting the better of you. He looked shocked, glancing back and forth between you and the brothers, before regaining some composure and clearing his throat. No Demons surrounded him, although he was armed up.

"My children!" he cried, to no avail. You looked at him with frustration and he just nodded, clearing his throat once more and bellowing, "YOU BLOODY DEMONS THATS ENOUGH, NOW STOP!" The Demons froze, glancing up at him as though it was the first they had realised he was in the room. A few looked at each other out of confusion, some others blatantly ignoring him and still diving in for the kill.

"Master, have you come to fight with us?" A ginger woman, mid 40s, dressed in scrubs stepped forward and cocked her head.

"No, daughter. I have come to stop you. End this fight. You have taken it too far. You want to take over Earth, fine. But I am your King, and you will do it on my terms."

The woman hissed, her fellow Demons creeping forward to stand beside her. "You're no king, Crowley. You're just as human as the rest of them. As we take down the Winchesters, we take down you too." They were getting closer and closer, trapping you in the corner of the room, hissing with venom.

A tug on your arm made you yelp as you were pulled back, stumbling into Dean. He dragged you round the corner, pinning you up. Your heart broke to look at his dishevelled hair, the cuts across his face, the way he was panting.

"Y/N, you need to go, now."

"What?! Dean, I can help. Hell, you need me to help, you're seriously outnumbered." You tried to push him off, to run back into the room.

He huffed, lips pursed. "Thats why you need to leave. I don't know how we're gonna win this one, Y/N, and I can't have you here. I can't have you getting hurt."

You frowned, shoulders deflating under his grip. No, surely he hadn't given up already. "Thats not fair, Dean. We said we'd keep each other safe, remember? How can I keep you safe if you send me away?"

"Listen to me, Y/N. This is important. We might not win this one. But if you get out, if you're okay, then no matter what happens to me, I'll consider it as good as a win. Please, go."

You felt a lone tear trickle down your cheek as a bang from the other room made you jump. As you peered in, furniture was flying all over the place, and Sam was drowned in Demons. You glanced back at your green eyed hero, swallowing down a lump.

"Alright. Go help Sammy."

Dean nodded, squeezing you tight and kissing your forehead forcefully. Then he was gone, jumping in to free his brother, leaving you standing in the hallway trembling.

Adrenaline was the only thing that sent you sprinting towards your exit. Yes, you could have gone to the garage, but you were running on autopilot now, and the only exit you could think of was the make-shift door you'd fixed up from a broken window when you'd been living in the bunker on your own. God, that felt like so long ago. Had it even been a year? Maybe not. How your life had changed since then, you couldn't quite believe it. You skidded round corners, petrified you'd stumble into a Demon just lying in wait, and let out a sigh of relief when you reached the spot without being followed. You tore back the tarpaulin, ripping away the soggy cardboard to reveal the remains of a window, the glass long gone but still with its original framing. Gripping onto the corners, you clambered out, landing awkwardly in the wet soil at your feet. At some point it must have rained, although you couldn't remember when.

You'd barely made it up the slope before you heard the growls behind you. Without looking back, you broke into a sprint, heading into the woodlands that you used to know so well. Now, in the pitch black, it was a maze. You were in the middle of nowhere, and the only destination you knew was the tree where your mother and sister lay. But you didn't have a choice, you couldn't just stand there. At some point a Demon had seen you leave, and it wouldn't give up until it caught you.

So you ran like hell. Leaves tried to slip you over, roots tried to trip you up, but you stumbled through, clawing at the dewy tree trunks to stay upright. But it was useless; the creature was much faster than you, and clearly had better vision in the darkness. It reached for you and you flung yourself forward, landing on your face and scrambling to crawl away.

"Get away you bitch," you hissed, turning to look up at it. What you saw took your breath away. A little girl, no older than your sister had been. Dressed in a beautiful floral dress, brown hair down her back fastened with a red bow. As soon as her blue eyes turned jet black, however, you were free from the shock and you lashed out, kicking her in the ribs.

"That wasn't very nice, was it?" the Demon cooed, turning back to face you with a scowl. "I must say, I wasn't expecting a tasty little treat when we came down here. The Winchesters, yes of course, and that pesky little Angel. But aren't you a nice surprise."

With tremendous strength, she pulled you to your feet, holding you against a tree by your throat. "I think I'll enjoy this, you know. I saw how Dean Winchester spoke to you earlier. He loves you. So it will be fun to kill you."

"He-do-does't-l-love-me" you gasped, wriggling under her grip. She let out a shrieking cackle.

"Of course he does. He looked at you the exact same way my Dad used to look at my Mom. Before he killed them, that was. You might not think Demons can have families, but they can. We were all human once, after all."

She squeezed harder, taking your breath away. As if things weren't dark enough, your vision seemed to be disappearing even further. You tried to lift your head up, wheezing for a breath.

"So yes, I think I will enjoy this one. I'll just have to make sure he gets to see your dead body before my brothers and sisters kill him." She lent forward, whispering in your ear as she ran a finger down your cheek. As she pulled away sharply, you cried out in pain at the cut she manifested.

That was, of course, one of many. Pinned back, there was nothing you could do. Defensively throwing punches that were easily deflected with the snap of your wrists, making you cry out in pain. She ran her long nails across your chest, carving as she went. You could feel the blood drip down your front, even once the pain became so unbearable you couldn't feel her tearing at your skin anymore.

"Lover boy will come for you soon," she cooed, stroking your stomach. "Wouldn't your babies be so pretty? Shame neither of you will live long enough to find out." She barely moved her body as her nail dug into you, this time deeper and slower than before. She pulled hard but precisely, using two fingers to widen the wound and push deeper. She drew across your width, practically feeling around for your womb. You closed your eyes tight, lashes glued together by tears as you wished the horror to be over. You felt sick, both physically and mentally. You should have never left the bunker. You should have carried on fighting. That way, at least you would have died at home, in the arms of your new family. Not out in open, in a dark and desolate woodland with no one around.

Gun shots lit up the sky to your left, where you guessed the bunker was. The Demon paused for a minute, glancing in that direction, before growling.

"Well, I guess thats my cue. Shame not to see your ultimate demise, my dear, but I'll make sure to come see you in the after life. Who knows, maybe you'll join me down in Hell!" She ripped her hand from your stomach and you slumped down, collapsing in a heap in the damp leaves. By the time you'd looked up, she was gone.

You couldn't move, you couldn't speak, you could barely breathe for gods sake. Warm liquid flowed uncontrollably from your stomach, but with your arms snapped in half you couldn't even use them to apply minimal pressure. You shivered, head still dizzy from lack of oxygen, which was only going to get worse.

This was it. You were going to go down just like every other member of your family, murdered untimely. Yes, your sister had been ill, but you'd always blame yourself, no matter what Dean said. In some way, you were at peace with it. It was what you deserved, after all. Dying didn't seem all that bad. Or maybe that was just the lack of blood speaking. You were exhausted, unable to sit upright, and you let yourself sink down to the floor, burying yourself in leaves. Curled in a ball, you shivered in a mixture of blood and tears, eyes focusing only on the dim light somewhere off in the distance. As your body started floating away, as you could no longer feel your toes, you sighed, ready for whatever came next.

Someone was calling your name. You couldn't quite make out who, maybe your mother, or sister, or God or someone. You were ready to welcome it, but it didn't come. And it didn't sound soft, either. It was frantic, demanding, desperate. Not like the voice of an Angel. More like the voice of a certain green eyed Winchester.

| Chapter 14 |

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#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn x reader #dean winchester x y/n #spn fic #sam winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean x yn #supernatural series #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #spn angst #spn fics #spn series #injured!reader

[shizukais]

Hi....If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Hi! Thank you for asking ❤️ On general (no specific order):

Coraline, Neil Gaiman (book)

I read it for the first time in elementary school. I completely fell in love with the story. I was young and I remember being quite impressed with it (for a children's book, it's quite shocking huh). Years later I reread the book and felt again as if I was reading it for the first time. It's been my favorite book for a long time. I always read it every now and then.

Friends (TV series)

My comfort show. I watch it at any time to have fun or just pass the time. I've watched it so many times that I know almost everything about this series. I can talk about it for hours or write a 10,000-word thesis about it.

Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle (manga)

My favorite manga of my collection. My little paper treasure, as I like to call it. I really like this story, it has everything I enjoy in a piece of media (fantasy, mystery, plot twists, angst, well-developted characters, etc). I really wanted to erase my memories and read it as if it were the first time again. It is breathtaking.

One Piece (anime)

Despite having seen Naruto first, One Piece is somehow more memorable for me. Whether due to its long duration or the complexity of the character/world build, One Piece is a remarkable work that I always talk about when talking about favorites.

Shinya Shokudo (manga, TV series)

Talking about Shinya Shokudo is not easy. Whether it's the manga or the TV series, it touches me on several levels. A feeling of nostalgia for something I didn't experience, coziness and tranquility. There are few media that bring me such nice feelings. It's simple but touching. Even though I have zero kitchen skills, I love seeing Master cooking different dishes and the customers telling their unique stories.

Hajime no Ippo (anime, manga)

It's a lifetime series, published since long before I was born. I've been reading it for so many years already! I always say I need to see its ending before I die. It's something that I simply have as a goal in life lol Seeing Ippo reaching the end of his story. (Mori sensei please be healthy, okay?)

World Trigger (anime, manga)

Amazing story, amazing characters, amazing world building. Everything about World Trigger is amazing to me. I'm a big fan of science fiction and World Trigger delivers everything and much more. The only sad thing about it is the very slow pace for the story to progress, but we have to be grateful that even with health problems, Ashihara sensei keeps going. I'll always support him and wish to see the end of WT someday.

Supernatural (TV series)

I watched it for the first time when I was a kid and it scared the hell out of me. Ever since then I've been watching SPN from time to time. I love the cheap drama and the quirky stories. Although, for me the quality of the series has deteriorated a lot over the seasons and I don't understand the fandom tbh. But that's another topic I guess.

Tokyo Revengers (manga)

Tokyo Revengers started as an obsession and has remained as a favorite. Time travel stories are always a must-read / must-watch for me and TR knows what they're doing with it. I love protagonists who at the beginning are nothing, but over time manage to develop into someone better in order to achieve their goals. Also, Mikey has become a very imporant character for me, I can say that in the end, he was pretty much the reason why I read the whole thing.

*I didn't include movies because I would need a whole list to fit all of them, there are so many that I would like to mention.

**Honorable mentions: mushishi, natsume yuujinchou, link click, nge, golden kamuy, pandora hearts, yu yu hakusho, dorohedoro, hxh, naruto, bsd, clamp's works, junji ito's works.

[tojisbootycall]

sorry yearly rewatch of spn has my trans sam brainrot coming out. read below the cut at your own risk cuz i gotta get this out before i keep going on my own fic

Sam first feels it walking home from school. He's in fifth grade and Dean goes to the middle school. They're supposed to meet every day at 3:45 on the corner of Wilson and Main. Sam always goes where Dean tells him to go so he's on his way when the creep sloughs down his spine. Maybe last year he wouldn't have felt the prick of being watched but he's nine now and he's started to notice things. Things like how Dean's throat has a bump in it where his does not. How his father and Dean have hair where Sam's skin is smooth. He's started to notice his chest and how it's slowly but surely getting bigger. It makes him nauseous, these understandings, but he doesn't know why. Doesn't know why it makes him want to punch a hole in the wall. All he knows is that last week Dean tried to be brotherly and take him to go get "feminine" stuff and he threw a tantrum so big the motel owner threatened to kick them out.

At least Dean hasn't mentioned anything about it since.

Still, Sam automatically scans his surroundings. He's older now, his father has taught him things. Nothing like Dean, who Sam thinks could fight the world and win. No, John treats him like he is breakable. He shows Sam how to curl a fist, how to dodge one, and how to aim a gun. He never shows him how to take a hit. Not like Dean. But still, he's started to teach Sam more about the world they really live in, so he watches the shadows carefully, waiting for movement.

When he doesn't find any, he turns back around. He immediately bumps right into someone. It's a woman. She's taller than him. He's still achingly short for his age. He hopes one day he'll get a growth spurt like Dean did.

The lady looks down at him and Sam gets an uneasy feeling. John has told him to trust these feelings so he does. He takes a step back. The lady just smiles more, raising her eyebrow at him. She's pretty, Sam notes, with smooth skin and long black hair, a dress that reaches her knees. "You okay there?" she says, and her voice is silky in Sam's ears.

"Yes, ma'am," he says, and he hates how his voice sounds. That he can't manage the gruff tone of Dean and his father even when he tries, the only traces of it coming out when he screams.

"What a polite young girl," the woman says.

Sam flinches involuntarily. He doesn't really know why. Just that it sounds wrong to him, those words strung together. Still, he's always supposed to be polite. "Thank you, ma'am," he says, looking up at her. If he doesn't go now he'll be late meeting Dean.

"You don't like that, do you?" the woman says. It's an inquisitive tone, not a fact, like she's observed something about him. Sam doesn't like that she has read him so easily.

"I'm a girl, ma'am, no worries." Yet the words feel like ash on his tongue. A curse given voice.

"Do you want to be? Sam, do you want to look like me when you grow up?"

And he has not given her his name. Sam backs up for real now, and yet takes her in all the same. How her hips are gentle curves, how the dress hugs her thin waist, her full chest. How the apple of her cheeks are adorned with blush, how her eyes are soft with mascara and shadow. How her hair cascades in thick waves, slightly curled. She's beautiful.

Sam does not want to be beautiful like this.

"I-I need to get Dean," he says, more to himself than her.

"I'm not here for Dean," she says, taking a step. Her eyes flick to black before settling back to brown and Sam shoots straight up. He's nine. This is a demon. Dean will never make it here in time. "I'm here for you, Sam." She crouches down to his level and takes his face in her soft yet firm hands. "I'm not here to hurt you, little one. I'm simply asking you a question. Do you want to look like me, Sam?"

"I don't want to make a deal!"

"No deals, Sam. I promise. Just yes or no."

He opens his eyes to look at her, forces himself to be brave because Dean would always be brave in times like this. Dean's not scared of anything. He thinks he's seen Dean scared once or twice, when their dad comes home drunk or angry, but those times he just locks the two of them in the motel bedroom until morning.

The woman's grip doesn't ease. Sam is nine, he can't outfight another being. So he squares his shoulders like he's seen Dean do and looks straight into her eyes. "No," he says, glad his voice doesn't shake.

"Okay," she says, releasing him. "What do you want instead?"

"What?"

"You don't want to be a girl, Sam." She runs a finger along his arms, a gentle nail down his throat like she has read his innermost thoughts. "What do you want instead?"

Sam looks at her long, long hair. It sways at her waist. His is almost as long. It's dark and brown and thick. He hates it, but every time he begs for a cut he's ignored. There's never enough time, enough money.

He curls his hand into a fist. "Sh-short hair," he hisses out, almost ashamed to say any of his wants to this thing, this demon. "I want short hair like Dean's."

"Okay, Sam."

There's a soft snap of her fingers, and when Sam looks again, the woman is gone. It's only a second before he hears his name being yelled from down the block in that gravelly voice that's still creaking and cracking in the middle.

When Dean catches up to him he nearly stops in his tracks, mouth still half open to yell at him for being late. "Dude. What the fuck did you do to your hair?"

Sam's fingers move slowly up his neck, and even then he can feel it. The soft fuzz of his hair on the nape of his neck. It's been shaved down, and when he shakes his head slightly, he can feel the shaggy layers against his cheekbones. His head feels inexplicably light. "Oh. Uh, I cut it. In the bathroom."

Dean assesses him. He reaches out and runs a hand through Sam's hair, then slaps him across the head. "Dad's so gonna have a fit."

Sam sticks his tongue out at him. "I don't care." And he doesn't, because for the first time in recent memory, Sam feels like Sam.

Dean rolls his eyes and throws an arm over his little brother's shoulders, steering him in the direction of the motel. "Whatever. Looks good, kid."

Sam shoves him and takes off, sticking his middle finger up back at Dean. He laughs when he hears the sound of his brother's footsteps running after.

"Not a kid!" he yells, and thinks maybe, one day, his voice can crack like Dean's too.

#spn #supernatural #trans!sam #levi writes #gonna add more to this as i feel like it #because by god i'll be damned if i add supernatural to my ao3 authored fics #this is staying between me god and tumblr

[orionsangel86]

I think we can accept Jensen as a true fanfic writer now

Man wrote something for fun and posted it for all to see and didn't even get paid

He's reached our unhinged level of insane I love him so much

It's reached an impressive level of dedication from him that's for sure.

Jackles came out of a meeting with the SPN writers and Jarpiss around 3 years ago and figured he had to do something. 3 years, one absolutely atrocious finale, a new production company, and a jivorce later, Jackles fanfiction is now its own TV show and the man is unhinged enough to step into Dean's shoes again totally free of charge just so he can get Led Zeppelin music into his fanfiction final chapter.

I've blown pretty hot and cold towards Jackles over the past 2 years. I don't always agree with the things he says at cons, and his passive tolerence of Jarpiss's behaviour over the years probably pissed me off more than anything else - the man was sexually abusing his best friend in front of him for 12 years and he did NOTHING.

So I hardly consider myself a Jackles stan, though i'm not a Jackles hater either. I am once again warming to him because clearly the SPN finale broke him just as much as it broke us. This is clearly something he needed to do to find his own closure, and I don't think he's anywhere near done yet, and to be honest, I respect him for that!

He saw something that was totally unsatisfactory, that did him and the character he has grown up with over 15 years totally dirty, and he figured that he had the means, the power, and the opportunity, to fix it the way he saw fit. Where we all write fanfiction to cope with our SPN finale trauma, Jackles kinda did the same thing, only his fanfiction counts as canon.

I'm very curious to see what he does next with the SPN universe, because I have no doubt he has more ideas up his sleeve. Perhaps 15 years of exposure to a very enthusiastic fandom who loved writing fanfiction about his character rubbed off on him after all! LMAO!

#jackles #jackles long con #like its legit a thing #anti jared #the winchesters #anti spn finale

[artificialstrontium]

dsmp finale spoilers, discussion of abuse

Ok so this rambling might be a tad unorganized but here’s my thoughts: The ending has been worked on for a long while now, so it’s not to say that it’s rushed. But seeing other’s reactions, it didn’t come across or land right, a miscommunication on the writer’s end (as I know people have been very vocal about making sure Tommy knows what a character like this means). 

That was a tragic ending. I know cc Tommy said he wanted his character to have a soft ending, and surface level it is that (having a do-over without pain is a wonderful thought, no?), but i can see why people are upset over a victim coming to an understanding and even unknowingly starting a friendship with his abuser, as well as spending his last moments believing he was just as in the wrong as his actual fuckin abuser. These topics deserve respect when handling on account of everyone whose reality is like c!Tommy’s. And there’s no way Tommy messing around at the start is equivalent to the pain inflicted on him by c!Dream ( & c!Dream planting evidence against c!Tommy before the house burning?helloo??). I’ve seen people say maybe what Tommy was going for was leaving his character’s character good and intact, like a superhero movie, or others pointing out that understanding isn’t necessarily forgiveness. Unfortunately, superhero movies don’t always equate perfectly to real life, people don’t always get the choice to do that or take the morally high road, whatever that is. 

Also from Tubbo’s POV, that’s not a fun ending! He tried so hard and failed to reach his friend in time, and all he could do was wait for the inevitable (not that c!Tubbo was ever guaranteed a good ending). Not to mention there’s loose ends everywhere. (can be taken into account IRL reasons for those loose ends, such as cc’s getting back to their normal lives after quarantine and that stall)

It can be said that stories can have tragic endings, some stories are made to make the reader uncomfortable so they check their understanding of the world (still, fuck Brave New World, me an my homies hate Brave New World). Some stories have a terrible or tragic ending of a season, have a hiatus, and roll right into a new one, which is where some cc’s are probably thinking in terms of lore (off the top my head, SPN season 5 bc it genuinely was supposed to end there and some of the middle seasons of GOT). But I think to the cc’s themselves, it’s also worth pointing out having too much of one thing (c!Tommy being a victim of abuse and never really getting a lasting win, unresolved things with other characters now that we know what happens to the DSMP) is draining to a lot of people in this audience, and that many people have been hoping for a good place to leave off before hopping to other fandoms. 

It can also be said the DSMP was never guaranteed a good ending, writing-wise or feelings-wise (I'll argue there’s a difference), taking in the fact it started out not as a story-based thing.

I’m generally a positive person, so what I’m choosing to do is stick around, wait for that alt stream because cc Tommy said earlier he’d chat about c!Dream being a fucking nightmare of a person. I’ll see what they do for volume two (because it can’t be all if “the dsmp will return” and “This is not the end...” is to be believed), if it’s a complete memory wipe situation or if they slowly regain memories (I can’t be sure, but c!Tubbo calling c!Tommy cheese-haired makes me have hope someone remembers or they’ll do something with that). (For the sake of transparency I will also say that honestly a lot of this writing piece is me making sense of that ending and trying to distract that it made me feel a bit ill).

I’m sorry to the people who were sticking around for just this ending before leaving, I’m sorry you are going on such a bitter note, and I’m genuinely sad for the people whose pain is renewed with an ending like that. 

The DSMP means a lot to me, as someone who’s been watching since before it was a month old. I’ve seen people say this, so I’ll say it here too, but these characters, their stories, also belong to us, the fans. The writers can write whatever ending they want, but in the end, if what you want to take away from a story is just the characters and their middle journey, and continue creating because you loved that part only, all the power to you! If any of that makes sense, lol. 

#dsmp #dream smp #c!dream neg #somewhat of a critical analysis #tw abuse #my unorganized thoughts #lore spoilers

[diminuel]

SPN Jennifer’s body au where after Sam left for Stanford and John left to find azazel dean was kidnapped by a cult at a bar he was visiting as a virgin sacrifice and he was killed but since he wasn���t a virgin he came back an incubus/succubus and now has to seduce and feed on any man he can find. What would Sam think if he ever found his brother like he is now? What about John? How would Dean deal with this

Before I get into it: why would the cult abduct Dean as a virgin sacrifice? What gave the cult the idea that he was a virgin? Seems like a somewhat odd conclusion to reach considering they must spot him in a bar - where he usually goes to pick up women and hustle pool.

As to what Dean might do if he found himself in a situation where he's a monster that needs to feed on men? (I suppose the succubus/ incubus thing implies that the feeding might involve sex.) I'm tempted to say that Dean would try to starve himself.

Because we're in the early 2000s and this is Dean. I can imagine that Dean would try to repress or at least try to hide if he had a desire for men. Sure, he's away from his father and his brother, so maybe nobody would have to know, but it would still be a part of himself that he would not openly or comfortably share.

Now, add to that being a monster - where his desire might be forced due to his need to feed and where his desire is actively harmful to others. So it turns to something shameful and morally wrong.

(And John and Sam are off doing whatever, would Dean even want to involve them? Would he not be too ashamed of what happened to him? I don't know. But say they do find out; John's a hunter and we've seen how hunters deal when one of them turns - it's usually a "you are a monster, you must deny your nature or die" kind of situation. Sam would probably be more level headed about it because it's his brother so he would try to find a cure. Though Sam's a bit more "grey" about the morality of things - he will make allowances for his family he wouldn't make for normal people who find themselves in this situation. Though trying to find a cure would probably be his priority.)

[desertsquiet]

I’m about as half way through Supernatural as it can get (8x11) and I just wanted to record a few thoughts because I meant to comment on Season 7 as well when I finished it but then I was too busy and forgot.

Surprisingly, I found Season 7 extremely enjoyable. A lot more than Season 6. Season 6 had a few really great and iconic episodes, but as a whole it just didn’t work for me much. The writing (especially dialogue) flet off. It had no focus, no humor, too many plot lines, big bads and “twists” that were handled poorly and it just took itself way to seriously in the process. Season 7, on the other hand, really cut to the chase and got back to what makes SPN such a fun, lovable show (minus the brilliant writing of season 1-5 bc that’s not gonna be topped, of course): simple plot, one big menace that we know we’re gonna be fighting since the beginning and focus whatever drama’s going on with the brothers. The leviathans are the most cartoonish villains ever and I say that as 100% a compliment. Their whole plot line kinda gave me RTD’s Doctor Who vibe as far as campy and fun critiques of Capitalism go. What’s not to love. Dick Roman was just peak entertainment in every sense. And just in general, I found the season SOLID all the way through. Nothing too jaw dropping maybe but definitely nothing bad, and a good consistent quality level.

Season 8 kinda started rough for me and I was ready to get extremely mad at the incredible number of out of characters things they managed to cram into just two episodes, but I have to say it’s been steadily growing on me ever since! And I’ve heard that the second half should be where shit really goes down so I’m very curious to see what I’m in for. 😃

All in all, I’m just happy to have reached this point and still very much enjoying my journey with the show. Yeah, quality has definitely dropped compared to the Kripke era, but as of right now I’m not regretting the decision to keep going at all. Coming into it I’d promised myself to let go of any prejudices and see and decide for myself so that’s what I’m gonna keep doing.

#ps the larp episode 😭 #SPN33

[hologramcowboy]

I’m so sorry that this is long, but I just wanted to put my two cents in. This is just my opinion by the way:

To answer your question on why Jensen would pass up a breakthrough role, Jared said at a con that it was tough filming a movie while filming Spn and Jensen agreed saying how both of them were tired and that Jensen didn’t want to do another movie and Jared said the same thing. But we also need to took at it this way, Spn was a very cushy job. 15 years of job security, payed very well, and getting to do what he love. Then, Spn was over and he needed to go out and audition for jobs again, which is something he hadn’t done since 2004. And according to him, his wife didn’t want him home and wanted him to look for a job. So let’s break down all of his roles he had so far: a guest role on TB courtesy of asking his former boss and having to correct his audition tape a couple times before submitting it to Amazon execs, a role on Rust that he got because the original actor dropped out and the movie is looking incomplete at the moment, calling up an old friend and asking for a guest role on BS because he knew he was out of the job and the friend ending up writing a role just for him, that can connect to the storyline (per his own words). And I’ll be honest with you if the producer had half-assed Jensen’s role, Jensen’s character would’ve been like Danneel’s role on Spn: Written just for him and didn’t serve any purpose to the storyline. A nepotism role that wouldn’t have gone anywhere and would be unmemorable. A job he couldn’t get on his own merit. And I’m pretty sure he only signed on to do 1 season on BS, which it’s been rumored that this season will be its last. Then there’s TW, that he was hoping would get a back order on season 1, so he could direct and line more money to his pocket (again his words), but that didn’t happen. Which led to him live tweeting for the very first time and not even using the hashtags. Then there’s the super secret Berlanti project that no one has talked about since March, and now he’s back to voice acting. Hearing him speak, he isn’t happy with how his career is going so far, and I don’t blame him. It’s been hard on him, but name dropping and sounding like a bitter has-been actor isn’t going to make it any better.

Then there’s Jared who seems very happy with everything going on, because essentially he got what he wanted. He hopped into another lead role, he’s filming in his backyard so he can come home to his family every single night, hanging out with his family and friends, and EP for 2 successful projects. And when asked about the possibility of cancellation, he gave a very mature answer saying that whatever happens he’s going out doing what he loves and that it was ok. He’s not desperate, like Jensen potentially is because he had talked about retiring and spending time with his family. Jensen claimed that Danneel wanted him to keep working, and that he wanted time off to spend with her and the kids, but I don’t necessarily think that’s true now. It might’ve been true in the beginning, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore and it hasn’t been for a while.

Oh, he never planned to take a break because for an Actor like him taking a break means fading into oblivion. He cannot afford to take a break. That's the harsh reality. People make choices based on their true priorities, Jensen's choices reveal his priorities do not lie at home but rather he still has levels of fame he wants to reach, his values aren't centered in family so you are spot on with your observation. People can lie with words but their choices always reveal their priorities and often their priorities can even be unconcious when they don't know themselves enough to consciously choose things in alignment with their core values. If Jensen's core values were being a dad or family man he would build his life around his children now that he's a dad yet we see him more interested in chasing down bigger roles and more fame and we even see his wife supposedly pushing him into it(to her he's her ticket to fame after all) so as much as the Ackles preach happy, loving family, at the end of the day they make business oriented choices. Jensen could work in voice over and spend pleeenty of time with the kids, IF he wanted.

Jared on the other hand is coherent with his values, stuck by his family and by his dreams, built both, supported both and continues to do so wholeheartedly, he moved the show to shoot where his family was because it was important for him to be near his kids for him to be able to continue his career. With him there is no disctepancy between what he declares and what he actually then chooses to do. He is in alignment with his values and his values are a mix of both family centered as well as career centered.

#jensen critical

[shallowseeker]

Dean wants what he can never have...so what's stopping him?

A consideration of Pamela as specter of Guilt in Rocky's roadhouse, SPN 14x10

At first glance, Rocky's bar has got everything: lots of family beer and cheeky references to Dean's pop culture, family, members, and friends.

So, why then, is Rocky's bar so anemic? It's a long way from the swing-for-the-moon El Sol type of contentment shown in Dean's prior djinn dreams. It feels peppy and hopeful through its decoration alone...but in actuality, it feels lonely, scared, and sad.

Dean is a social animal, and this is a bar devoid of people except for a dead psychic, a shady real estate developer, and a handful of enemies. There are no customers.

This Michael is clever. Dean, unlike other soldier-coded characters in SPN, is usually very attuned to knowing "what's real." (Families! People!) He has not fallen prey to frank nihilism or despair as often as other characters, at least not in that existential, what-is-real way. (Usually, his despair is about saving loved ones, or the horror of loss and abandonment.) This time, Dean is broken. Michael crows in triumph 14x09:

MICHAEL DEAN: So I left but not without leaving the door open just a crack.

CASTIEL: Why wait?

MICHAEL DEAN: To break him, to crush and disappoint him so completely that, this time, he'll be nice and quiet for a change -- buried. And he is. He's gone. [ Takes a drink of whiskey ] And now I have a whole army out there, waiting, ready for my command, ready for this. [ Michael Dean’s fingers prepare to snap ]

That explains Michael's choice of illusion here, and it foreshadows the nihilism and break with reality that Dean will experience in seasons 14 & 15. ("His life's work, a hoax.")

Dean is about to lose sight of the meaning of his life and will be set up to bear the ultimate disillusioned-soldier's burden: he will be unable to determine what's real.

Sam and Cas have already gone through this,. In fact, most soldier-coded side characters have consistently experienced this: Bobby, Charlie (not soldier-coded but grief-coded for sure), Benny, Mary, AU!Charlie, etc.

Arguably, Dean has broken with reality only a handful of times, but not to same severity and not with the same level of disillusionment as compared to someone like Cas, who was faced with both moral injury from his superiors in Heaven and a complete psychotic break.

///

Dean's heartbreaking self awareness

I think Dean's actually a pretty astute guy, and when you look past all the smack-talk and the witty one-liners, he's one of the best at reading people. Whereas Sam can at times sound like he's reading from a psychology how-to pamphlet, Dean often more easily navigates when to push and when not to push with strangers. He'll talk down on their level, too, which helps to keep it from coming off too scripted or condescending.

An example is 13x05 Nightmare Logic: Dean starts off quippy to a grieving Sasha, but he quickly builds rapport with her by being present in the moment and not trying too hard to psychoanalyze her. When Sasha says she isn't up for a heart-to-heart, he doesn't shame her. He says Okay. He show similar intuition with Claire Novak.

Emotional intuition aside, Dean's too much inside his own head a lot, too. And his fear of abandonment is crippling. If his rapid-fire speech pattern is anything to go by, I imagine Dean's mind is an equally rapid-fire flurry of intrusive thoughts. I wouldn't be surprised if he's prone to rumination.

His self reflection is a torment. We see this in early seasons and especially in 3x10 Dream a Little Dream of Me, when he meets his dark doppelganger.

And, of course, Dean feels guilty. He feels like everything is his fault because he was the primary "rock" of his family for so long. Sam is his brother but also his child, so he can't quite relate to him normally or always accept Sam's attempts to reach out to him. Furthermore, Sam tends to push when he cares, and Dean doesn't always take kindly to being pushed:

SAM: Dean, like it or not, the stuff you don't talk about doesn't just go away. It builds up, like whatever's eating at you right now.

DEAN: There's always something eating at me. That's who I am. Something happens, I feel responsible, all right? The Lindbergh baby – that's on me. Unemployment – my bad.

Dean often turns to alcohol to deaden the absolute tempest he's got inside. I feel like Dean might not be as robust as Sam is at frank compartmentalization.

///

An endless loop of status quo + threat

Dean has very rarely "completely checked out of the fight." In the dream world of Rocky's Bar, Dean has retired Baby, but there's still a horrible storm raging outside. Interestingly, Dean doesn't actually go out in the storm in 14x10; Pamela does. Her recounting of the outing feels stressful, like people are panic buying in preparation for an approaching disaster:

PAMELA: Everybody's shopping at the store like it's the End Days. The milk and bread aisles were a war zone. But I battled through it all for your stupid bag of limes.

Dean is no longer one who braves the storm; so, he's trying to be a shelter from the storm. He's checked out of the fight.

Dean's mind resolves the need to face the storm by mentally assuring himself that the burden of hunting is shouldered by trusted, competent, strong family members: Sam and Cas. Dean wants to be a safe harbor, but he's also hiding from the storm and drowning himself in booze (his preferred coping mechanism). Here, the beer isn't completely celebratory; it's replacement of people and the deadening of emotions. Michael is still drowning him. There's no Mary or Jack to be seen. It's the stasis of being useful, of being available as safe harbor but keeping everyone at arm's length. It's a bare bones kind of happiness.

Meanwhile, Dean and Pamela fight vampires in an endless loop. This shows that, outside of hunting, Dean struggles to have confidence and meaning in his life. He crows that he's famous:

PAMELA (wiping Deans face) Worst part of working here is having to clean up the blood after some pissed-off monster busts in to kill you.

DEAN (smirking) Well, what can I say? I'm famous.

It reminds me of the distraught high-schooler Dean, insisting loudly that he's a hero in After School Special.

The negative reading is that Dean in Rocky's Bar is checking out; it's a bit similar to Cas in season 7; he also wanted play support and let his trusted companions handle things. The root of it is the shame and crushing disappointment that Dean suffered when he choked during Michael fight. Dean was the weakest link. He failed.

And so, now we find him, happily fighting on the sidelines here, serving as Ellen Harvelle 2.0 with his own Roadhouse. (It's like Sam with Amelia in season 8; it COULD be a good thing if it wasn't representing Sam primarily checking out of his duty to Kevin. The same way Cas hunting in Hunter Heroici COULD be a good thing, if Cas wasn't primarily doing it to escape the consequences of his Heaven genocide. As usual, it's all about the balance, at least in the world of SPN.) Indeed, most of the new side relationships and new roles in season 8 are idealized, fantasy-esque ones, without the baggage characteristic of real-life relationships/jobs. That's on purpose. Season 8 is all about fantasy escapism-idealization, which is what gives it its dreamy, "is it even real?" quality.

On a positive reading, Dean has his own business, and he's putting his own stamp on the family business.

Interestingly, even this dream is under threat...from a shady real estate developer. 14x10:

WOMAN: (looking around the bar) Rocky's looks pretty dead. It's a very generous offer.

DEAN: Well, all the same, this bar? I've never had anything this nice. So that sale that you want so bad, well, it's just not gonna happen.

Only small amounts of happiness can be allowed, and this threat to happiness must exist to make even that small amount seem believable.

///

The Pamela of it all

Is the appearance of Pamela related to Cas? I think Yes. But not in the way you might be thinking. She's definitely complex:

CASTIEL You're just a complex manifestation of Dean's memories designed to distract him.

PAMELA You really know how to talk to a lady, don't ya?

I think her set-dressing, sexual symbolism, and stand-in for potential repression have been discussed to death, so I wanna focus instead on what I think the crux of the issue is: her presence as Guilt. See, it's clear from her words that Pamela knows that *Dean* knows what he wants.

On the surface, she's easy company, requires no explanations, and Dean can flirt with her, despite her not being "what he wants." She understands that, and she won't get the wrong idea. The part most people key into is that, she, Dean's subconscious, she chides him that he "always wants what he can't have."

But what can't he have? Peace. Why can't he have it? Well, lots of reasons. But chief among them is that he doesn't deserve it.

So, Pamela. Why Pamela, specifically?

One, this is what keeps Dean up at night: it's the people he couldn't save. He alludes to this rumination all throughout the series. So, of course, he thinks about Pamela. And Pamela was heartbreakingly angry when she died:

PAMELA: Yeah, I don't. I told you I didn't want anything to do with this. Do me a favor? Tell that bastard Bobby Singer—to go to hell for ever introducing me to you two in the first place.

Two, her blindness is because of what first connected Dean to Castiel. Therefore, Pamela is a reminder of the awful fact that one of Dean's cornerstones of happiness (Cas) came to him through great trauma and evil circumstances, kind of like a Leviathan blossom out of a corpse.

But to Dean, having happiness at the expense of others would make him "like a vampire," leeching life and happiness from the living, and that's uncomfortable. Because of Dean going to Hell and being resurrected, Pamela was pulled into this mess, lost her sight, and died. Cas burned her eyes out, something Cas is also horrified to revisit:

DEAN (looks at Pamela, whose eyes are now pure white) You're blind?

PAMELA Yeah, I've been blind for a while. Thank Feathers here for that one.

CASTIEL That was -- Dean, that was an accident.

Subconsciously, this was on Dean's mind, even before he remembered her blindness. But who is blind to what?

I think there are two layers to this. The first layer is that Dean cannot easily resolve being glad that Cas is in his life with the fact that Cas being in his life cost so much in the first place. The second layer is that Dean has experienced the trauma of being vessel now, and that not only re-contextualizes the horror of Sam and Cas's internal battles with Lucifer, it recontextualizes Cas and the Novaks. Dean was already thinking about these things in the previous episode, The Spear 14x09:

DEAN: [ Stopping Cas ] Listen to me. Michael conned me. Kept me trapped and drowning inside my own body. Now, when you and Sam were possessed by Lucifer, I -- I thought I understood, but I didn't, not really. So, yeah, if we get a chance to trap him, I'll take that, but I won't be truly happy until he is dead and I kill him.

Here, Dean is completely sidestepping the fact that Cas also possessed vessels, possibly all throughout his long life, forcing humans into submission and completely dominating them.

But Dean's subconscious isn't sidestepping it.

Loving Cas often makes Dean willfully blind to what he was, because Dean loves the person Cas has become. That's still a hugely burdensome cosmic horror, and it's been cast into a fresh light.

It's something that Cas struggles with, too, of course. (Indeed, in season 15, that's what the specter of Belphegor is all about; thus the "wearing him like a coat" line. Body snatching and angelic brutality are incredibly underestimated components of Cas's self-loathing. (Even the Empty calls them out in all of The Big Empty scripts.)

From 10x09:

CLAIRE: Why? Like you don’t have it coming? You stood there while this monster took my dad. [She puts the gun down, then turns to Cas.] I used to pray to you, Castiel. Every night. I would beg you to bring him home safe.

CASTIEL: I know.

CLAIRE: You know … My father was a good man. In what messed up world does he have to die and you get to live?

CASTIEL: I’m sorry.

CLAIRE: No. You feel guilty. There’s a difference.

///

From 14x02:

NICK: Castiel, you’re just a stone cold body snatcher. You’re no different than Lucifer.

CAS: I...I need to look in on Jack. [CAS walks past NICK, but stops before he gets to the door] You know, in all my thousands of years, what happened to Jimmy Novak and his family are my greatest regret.

///

I don't deserve to be happy

People struggle to accept their lives when they feel they've committed too many evils to be worthy of actually living it. (Like, that's the whole APPEAL of religion for a lot of folks, you know?) Some people set out to do penance or self-punish. But when does noble penance go too far? How much pain and self-flagellation absolves you of sin?

AMARA: I wanted you to see that the real, complicated Mary was better than your childhood dream because she was real. That now is always better than then. That you could finally start to accept your life. I thought having her back would release you, put that fire out. Your anger.

At the point in the story that Amara says this, she is mostly reacting to Dean's anger and nihilism at being cheated in life, but she has a fair point about accepting your life. (Dean swings wildly in season 15, going from the his more typical early-seasons, "I don't deserve a life, but what I do has meaning," to an embittered "I deserved a better life than this, and nothing matters, not even family, not even saving people; it's all rigged!"

///

For Dean and Cas, I feel like Guilt is largely what the "something I can never have" stems from. It's the deep shame at the idea of being happy, of being selfish, at the expense of the more-deserving others. It's also about being bad luck--about being poison.

Cas shields himself from the weight of his guilt by appearing to be motivated by altruism. He likes to appear as if he's adhering to duty, something that Lucifer and Metatron are both shown to be absolutely bitter with him about. It's also why Jack was Cas's perfect raison d'état to feel good about staying on the earth and existing within a human family. It's more than that, too, but a huge attraction to the idea is exactly that.

From 10x10:

CASTIEL: This isn’t about me.

METATRON: (sarcastically) Of course not. The great Castiel never stoops to such selfishness.

///

Dean's self-worth is so abysmally low, I could chunk out a bunch of examples.

From 3x10:

DREAM DEAN: Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. (angry) Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?

Nevertheless, throughout the series, Dean is incredibly in tune with his inner emotions. He has mini-crises about what he's willing to do for family, he quotes existential literature, he gives everything for his little brother even when it lurches into parental-authoritarian nightmare. He genuinely checks in on his suicidal war companions, and he showers Charlie and Claire with affection.

He was mentally prepared to say "I love you" to Cas in season 7. He creates a mixtape for him in season 12. He was originally drafted as telling Cas, "You're more than a weapon," in Good Intentions 13x14. He comforted Jack about his nightmares, and in Game Night 14x17 was at first super relieved that Jack was safe, "because he was safe with Mary (from Nick)."

Fuckups aside, I think we shouldn't underestimate Dean's amount of "sitting with the emotions in the dark of the night" type of introspection. I'd wager Dean still thinks about how he is only alive because John is dead. He still thinks about Layla and what happened in Faith--about taking another's heart to live. He even thinks about Adam, but he also feels powerless about a lot of these things.

I 100% think it's possible that Dean was suspicious of Chuck AND Chuck's entire family in season 15. Internally, it was a push-pull war of "Cas and Jack are family," and "Cas and Jack are Chuck's family...is he messing with me? Are they messing with me?"

///

How dare you fall in love when so much bad had to happen for you to even meet

(In a kinder world, you'd have NEVER met at all)

What I'm trying to say with this rambling brain exercise, I guess, is I just think it's more interesting to me personally if the Dean-Cas struggles in latter seasons are more about the happiness they feel they don't deserve. The rest is okay: the stigma of society, or shame for attraction, or a lack of self-awareness, or even the popular 2D bigoted bruhaha depictions of a cartoonishly homophobic John. But I feel like you have to work harder for those when the cosmic horror of existing as they are is already baked into their self-loathing.

I don't tend to view Dean as unaware of his emotions; if anything, it feels like he is psychotically over aware of them. I think he suppresses the expression of them, sometimes, but not the emotions themselves. That's why he drinks as his coping weapon of choice.

If anything, it's Cas that has been trained that angels don't have emotions, and when they very obviously do show emotions (because hey, guess what--ALL angels canonically do), they get compartmentalized. Angel emotions "don't count" as real emotions, because they've been told they don't have them, and because they don't feel exactly like human ones. (It's like a person starting hormones and mistaking a change in the expression of emotions for either an absence or addition of feelings.)

Cas typically solves for this by cloaking his own selfishness in angelic duty, as Metatron and Lucifer so astutely note. It isn't until very late SPN that I'm convinced he is willing to honestly "read" his own emotions at all. Cas has to start loving Sam and Claire Novak and the world to even begin to parse why he's attached to Dean in a more-than-the-charge-I-must-protect fashion. I think this is partially why, in season 10, Cas starts out being willing to kill Demon!Dean in the early part and winds up NOT being able to do so in the latter part.

There's a major shift occurring with Cas in seasons 9 onward. I don't feel like he lost his grace and WHAM he suddenly parsed his own emotions. It takes awhile. He actually MARVELS that he has sharper sense of empathy as late as 9x11.

CASTIEL: You know, old me -- I would've have just kept going. I would've jammed that needle in deeper until you died because the ends always justified the means.

Season 10 deleted scene:

Cas: Glory? Oh, I’ve seen glory. And I’ve seen defeat. But I have seen the glory. I have won epic battles, and I have reaped vast rewards. And none of it has meant as much to me as the relationships that I’ve formed on Earth. Sam and Dean? They are like a family to me. Claire Novak? When she smiled at me? Nothing, no angelic crusade or victor’s bounty, none of that could ever hold a candle to that sweet, crooked smile.

//

What do you want?

Everything Michael says is opposite. We know that Dean was gutted when Jack died, he was devastated when Sam left him alone with John, and he doesn't want Cas around out of obligation...he just wants him. Michael is The Character that goes around asking people, "What do you WANT?" So, he knows, too.

He's also astute enough to realize that he can't give Dean something too nice, or he'll realize he's in a dream. He can't bury him in trauma, because Dean thrives in that. He also can't bury him in blissful happiness, because he'll clock that. So instead he chooses a low-level, threats-on-the-horizon kind of contentedness--having something nice but not indulging too much.

In fact, in the terminal seasons, Dean and Cas seem low-key aware of how happy they make each other, but they can't LET themselves be happy. It would be selfish to seek more. They can't have it. But not because of what the other feels. It's largely because they feel they don't deserve to have this happiness. In Dean's case, happiness might even be dangerous, an invitation for more death. By the time they're on the cusp of something, The Empty strikes.

From 7x21

CASTIEL We live in a "sorry" universe...I mean, why should I prosper from... your misfortune? [CASTIEL puts down a marker and moves DEAN’s marker back to the start.] But these are the rules. I didn't make them.

And that's a real shame.

#queue #december writings #shame in spn #destiel explorations #for the record i'm not opposed to any of the other readings per se #it can be many things simultaneously #i just feel like the backdrop of the world is brutal OUTSIDE of how they feel about each other #the mere fact they're both EXISTING is a crime #and they're both aware of this

[tuometarr]

Hey my favourite author of the year,

I have read hundreds of Supernatural fics this year, and To Be Found Without Searching was my number one favourite. I always have a soft spot for Midam, and I have read a few Midam fics, but they aren’t the most popular ship. It’s so rare and I had to settle to read some of the fics even though a lot of the plot was out of character because I need Adam to have a better ending. He deserves so much better. And then I stumbled on To Be Found Without Searching and to build a home’verse. I have never read such a in character and a logical canon compliance/divergence fanfiction in years. I stayed up a whole night to read your work and I immediately jumped to your tumblr to write this. Thank you. All the plot lines in the Cage with Midam was perfect. It might not all be compliant with all the SPN universe lords, but it was the best description and progression of their bond, even if you took out the soul mark part. The whole Cage part, I totally forgot the soul bond for a bit and actually thought that that was canon. It is now canon in my mind. I even hate Sam and Dean a little bit now, after reading it. I can feel how strongly they love each other, and how REAL it is even when at the end of this fic, Michael didn’t even have a physical body. Somehow, it doesn’t even matter for me. Adam has his happy ending, sharing a body with Michael. It dawns on me at all this time, Michael was waiting, searching for ways to be in Paradise on Earth with his Father and his brothers, without humans, but he actually found Paradise in Hell, in the Cage made for Lucifer’s punishment, in Adam’s mind, with Adam. The time they spent bonding in the Cage was found Paradise for Michael. I love you. I haven’t commented on a fic in a long time. But this fic makes me feel love, and loyalty, and satisfaction that I haven’t in a long time. Thank you. Please keep writing Midam when or if your inspiration strike. I’d love to read every single word you type about them. There are many many things more I can’t put in to words right now but I stayed up the whole night to read the fic, so maybe another day

Hello

First of all, I am so so sorry for only now getting back to you!!! I was shadowbanned for a month so I wasn’t really on tumblr

Secondly I am at a loss for words, absolutely speechless and moved to tears. I cannot handle this level of praise. This is the kindest thing that has been said about my writing. I have no idea what to say. I am at awe to hear that my writing could move someone the way you say it has done for you, I am very humbled by your message. Thank you thank you thank you thank you for your kindness. It means everything to me, in a way I cannot quite express. I am just a person and to have something I made be loved in this way is just something so special. Especially tbfws which I made in the quarantine times to handle being alone a lot, the idea that even after such a long time it can still bring people joy is just so important for me to hear. Thank you so much for reaching out!

I cannot promise I have anything written soon but maybe I will try to get something done for Adam’s birthday, you certainly have inspired me to keep writing 💕

(Also I just have to say I always find it fun people say they forgot the soulmate thing for a bit, it is so funny because I forgot it for a bit too while writing lmao but I think it goes to show it wasn’t really about the mark it was about these two characters finding each other)

Again thank you so much ❤❤❤

#I had to sit down after reading your message #sorry I am chronically finnish and bad at putting my emotions into words #I will be thinking about this for a long time #tuome talks

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Blood in Heaven and Hell — Chapter 3

Summary: Is Dean jealous that Sam gets to pretend to be Alex's fiancée? Woah! Alex to the rescue. Uh oh, she kind of got caught too. Oops.

Pairing: Sam x Alex (Pretend)

Canon: Supernatural (AU), season 10ish

Characters: Bobby, OFC!Alex, MOC!Dean, Sam. Townies. Rev. Shipley.

Word Count: ~8k (sorry, I’m working to cut them down because I know it is a lot to read)

Warnings: Possible spoilers. Cursing. Show-level violence. Magic. Severe injury.

Author’s Notes: AU Spn. Bobby Lived. Charlie lived. A bit of change to the mythology. Thoughts are in italics.

Beta’d: @fluffiest-dreams and @myloversgone (Am always thankful for them to take the time to help me out! 🤗)

Chapter 2| |Chapter 4

Sam and Alex exited the impala and walked up to the church with Dean and Bobby lingering behind. “I doubt they’re open. Probably need to go to a side entrance,” said Sam. Alex nodded. They looked around for an entrance and found one on the side. They were in luck and it was unlocked. Sam pulled out his phone and texted Dean about the door.

“Shall we?” Alex held out her arm. Sam smiled and took her arm as they entered the building. The door was to the back area of the pulpit. Alex slid her arm out and held onto Sam’s hand as she took the lead to look around. “Hello?!” She called out. “Just looking for the Reverend!”

They walked out to the altar. A door from the other side of the room opened to an older gray-haired gentleman in slacks and a button-down long-sleeved shirt, “Hello. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Service isn’t until five o’clock.”

“So sorry to bother you, sir,” Sam spoke. Alex hesitated a moment, seeing his true form, then smiled and waved.

“It’s quite alright. It’s why I keep our doors unlocked. How can I help you two? I don’t think I’ve seen you in mass before,” the Revered spoke as he approached them.

“No, we just got a place here. Looking to buy a home here in this cozy town but that’s gonna take a while. We were hoping to talk to you about joining your church and see about getting married here,” Alex said confidently, ignoring her urge to run or punch. She grew nervous the closer the man got.

Sam nodded in agreement.

“That’s wonderful,” the Reverend said. “I’m Revered Mark Shipley.”

Sam reached out and took his hand, “Sam Smith.”

Alex shook his hand, “Elizabeth Farmer. Please call me Lizzie.” The moment she touched his hand, the darkness exuded from him and she looked to see his demon face. Ugly.

“Please come to my office.” The Reverend led them to a small room with two chairs and a desk with a comfy rolling chair behind it. They all sat down.

“I have to ask,” he started, “I couldn’t help but notice the toy ring on your finger, Lizzie.”

“Oh! This. It’s a thing from when we were kids,” she stated with a grin, willing her heart to calm down.

“We grew up together and I remember when we were, what?” Sam turned to Alex, “like six, seven?” He turned back to Rev. Shipley, “I was in love with her then and promised to marry her. I gave her this toy ring.”

Alex feigned a blush and glanced down shyly with a small smile, “I kept wearing it for a while. Sam ended up moving away a few years later but we ran into each other in college again, amazingly, at Stanford.”

Sam looked surprised and then, at the Reverend, he nodded his head. “I didn’t expect to see her there, to be honest,” he grinned and chuckled.

“I still had the toy ring but didn’t tell him at first. I mean how do you tell your first love that you still love them but you don’t even really know them anymore? It was sweet,” Alex glanced at Sam with a half grin. “We just kind of fell back into place with each other. Everything just clicked, at least for a while.”

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise again.

Alex patted Sam’s hand, “Now, Sam, we should be honest with him. We have broken up a few times but this is the longest we’ve been together, three years now and things just feel…”

“Right,” Sam finished her sentence. “I think we are finally ready.”

“I think we’ve grown up and matured enough for this to be our next step.” She added.

“That’s so sweet. Thank you for your honesty. If I may ask, what broke you two up before?” The Reverend leaned forward as he asked with a smile.

Meanwhile, Dean and Bobby quietly went in after Sam and Alex, and looked around for any sign of demonic activity. They quietly went to the other side. The office door was closed with a sign stating the Reverend’s name. They went upstairs just to find another few rooms: a small daycare room, a storage room, and a storage closet. It was a rather small church but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Bobby and Dean quietly went back the way they came and waited in the impala for the other two. Dean texted Sam advising nothing was found.

Back in the office, Alex had her arms crossed, looking upset at the Reverend, trying to cover up her nerves as she’s stuck looking at a demon’s true face this entire time, and Sam looked confused and nervous. The Reverend got up and walked around his desk to sit on it in front of Alex. He took her hand, “Hey, we all have our flaws. Remember we are all made in an image of God so we are meant to have flaws. That doesn’t make us weak,” he grabbed Sam’s hand as he continued. “The fact that you two keep coming back together and keep trying says so much about your love and dedication for each other.”

Alex smiled softly and looked sheepishly at Sam. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. I just get so frustrated sometimes, you know?”

Sam nodded and took both his hand and Alex’s from the Reverend, “Of course. We can get through anything.” Thank you, she thought.

Alex looked at the Reverend with a large grin, “Thank you, Reverend. You really helped us put things into a better perspective.”

“Since finances were brought up, I did want to ask. Were you thinking of getting rings eventually or at least wedding rings?”

“Yes,” stated Sam, then hesitated. “We just moved here and money is tight. We want to but haven’t saved up enough. I’m sure we will once we have everything saved up.”

Alex nodded.

“You know, I am having a barbecue at my house this weekend. I do it once a month for my neighbors and congregation. You should come,” he turned around, wrote the address on a piece of paper, and handed it to Sam.

“Of course,” Alex said. “Can’t wait.”

Sam and Alex exited the room with the Reverend in tow. Sam laced his fingers through Alex’s as they continued. The Reverend walked them back out through the side door they entered. “See you soon.”

They exited, still holding hands, towards the impala. Sam let go and opened Alex’s door and then closed it once she was in. Her eyes scanned the area as Sam went to the other door and got in.

“Drive,” Alex said to Dean as she wiped her hands on her dress, her face in disgust. “That’s him. It’s gotta be,” she said.

“Something was definitely off,” Sam agreed .

“He gave me the creeps the moment I touched his hand. I need a hot shower and a course of sandpaper to get the feeling off of my skin. Yuck,” she lied. She hated being in that situation but wasn’t sure how to act. The brothers didn’t know she could see a demon’s true form. This is frustrating, she thought, wishing she could talk to Bobby alone.

Dean sighed, “Being creeped out by a guy ain’t enough, Alex. We need to know for sure.”

Bobby chimed in, “If she says it’s him, it’s him.”

They headed towards the motel when Sam felt weird, “Stop.” Dean did and watched him in the rearview mirror, “Sammy?”

Sam looked out the window to see a wallet had been left on the ground. He quickly got out and got it then back in the car.

Alex looked surprised, “How did you know that was there?”

He shrugged. “We need to drop this off at the police station,” Sam said, looking confused. “I feel really weird and kind of sick right now.” He looked at Alex, “Are you sure those charms work?”

She gave him a sympathetic look, “Having never been around the demon before, I don’t know. The source seemed reliable to me.” She quickly said, “No, don’t, Dean. I want to see something. We will turn right around, Ok?”

Sam nodded.

“Ok..?” Dean flipped the blinker the other way back towards the motel and drove.

A few blocks up, Alex asked, “Sam, how ya doing?”

“I really wanna go to the police station, which is weird. Nauseated but tolerable,” he replied.

“You sure?” Alex queried.

Sam looked uncomfortable and kept holding on to the wallet.

They arrived and parked at the motel. As they all got out, Alex took the wallet from Sam. She was suddenly compelled to do the same, causing her to drop it. She exhaled, “Yup, that’s our demon.”

Bobby grabbed a napkin from his pocket and picked up the wallet, taking it with them.

Sam, on the other hand, didn't look good; Dean helped him up the stairs to their room.

“Gimme your charms,” Alex demanded. Bobby and Dean did. She dug out her charm too and put them all in Sam’s hand making him hold them as she watched. She began to feel odd and shook her head.

“Alex?” called Bobby.

“I’ll be fine. Just can’t touch the wallet. If y’all wanna do that to see what happens, since you’re not influenced, it could be useful to track.”

Dean looked between Sam and Alex. Sam seemed to be feeling better with the four charms in his hand. “Why aren’t you acting like him?” Dean asked Alex.

She shrugged as she rummaged through her mind for a fake explanation nr. 3,792 as to why things don’t affect her like normal humans. “My theory is he got whammied or bespelled or whatever but since it’s more than likely has to do or affects me, I’m influenced as well but not to the same degree.” She felt sick lying to them, they seemed so genuine, but she had no choice. She knew why she wasn’t affected like Sam. Being descended from a prince of hell, lower-powered demons didn't always affect her the same as humans.

“Dean, why don’t you go do that?” Suggested Bobby. “See where it goes.”

Dean nodded and grabbed the wrapped-up wallet then headed out. “Call me if he changes,” he said as he walked out the door.

Alex sighed and moved to sit next to Sam. “Doing better?”

Sam bent over as he sat on the bed closest to the door. He gave Alex a small smile and nodded, “Yeah. It seems these charms effects stack.”

“Some do, some don’t. It was a complete guess. Glad it’s helping.” She looked up at Bobby, “We need a plan and fast. I don’t think the barbecue is a good idea. I do think going to his home is.”

“We’ll need to scout his house,” said Sam.

“Or….we could visit with some issue for the Reverend to fix since we don’t have a number to call. We could determine if it’s feasible; if it is, one of us goes to the bathroom to text Dean who calls you, and feign upset about them calling. Already give them the address, if the Reverend gets upset, because of the barbecue. Voila! Kill demon.”

Bobby nodded, “That sounds good to me. What issue though?”

They sat there for a while in silence thinking as Sam recovered. A sudden shift occurred in Sam, “Now, I want to go buy you an engagement ring but not like before, the compulsion is not as strong.” He kept holding the charms in his hand.

Bobby’s phone rang. It was Dean who was following up about Sam. When Bobby explained the change, Dean spoke and then Bobby hung up.“So, there was a reward for that wallet, of nearly three grand.”

“What?” Alex exclaimed.

“He’s gonna buy a cheap engagement ring,” Bobby continued.

Alex laughed, “This is ridiculous.” She looked at Sam who didn’t look too pleased. She looked back up to Bobby, “We need to send him back to hell. Tell Dean to hurry up and get back here.” Bobby started texting Dean as she turned to Sam, “You're going to find out I’ve had emotional intimacy with your brother by viewing text messages from my phone that I left open, not physically cheating but might as well be. I tell Dean things that I haven’t told you but should, like fears of our future, um,” she got up and paced as she thought out loud.

Sam chuckled, “You’re good at this.”

Alex paused and swung around still in her dress with a sheepish grin displaying, “I’m a hopeless romantic and love those stories where couples have problems but like, grow, learn, and things get better. You can’t live life without conflict.” She shrugged and then continued to pace, thinking.

Dean came into the room, “Hey, here ya go.” He handed Sam the engagement ring box.

Alex took off the toy ring and grabbed the box from Sam and opened it to find a gold band encasing a small diamond, “Cute.” She put the ring on her ring finger and then looked at Sam.

“How are ya feeling, Sammy?” Dean inquired.

Sam blushed, “Awkward.”

Alex quietly giggled at the blush and bit her lower lip.

“What?” Bobby asked.

Sam swallowed and stood up, “I want to…confess my …undying love to you…right now. This is soooo weird.”

Alex’s eyes widened, “Oh, that’s weird.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. He looked at his hand with the charms, “I’m keeping these.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have more, but,” she thought for a moment. “Hey Sam, open your hand. Let me see if I can help strengthen them.”

“You know, for a hunter, you sure like magic,” Dean stated.

“Yeah, well, I was raised a hunter and a witch,” she said as she placed her hand faced down on Sam’s hand and gripped him. “Don’t worry, I’m a good witch, like Glenda from the Wizard of Oz but way more badass and physical.” She stuck her tongue out at him and then smiled.

Bobby glared at Dean.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, “Potentia. Do potestatem. Do potestatem. Do potestatem.” Lifting her hand over, the charms glowed for a few moments and then returned to normal. She opened her eyes and looked at Sam. “More tolerable?”

Sam closed his hand over the charms and waited. He tilted his head to one and nodded. “Yeah, that definitely helped.”

“They just needed a recharge.” She explained. “All that weirdness should stop once we kill Gamellus.” She turned to Dean, “So, here’s the plan: I’m emotionally cheating with you on Sam, talking to you when it should be him. We have secrets. It might as well be me actually cheating with as much as he doesn’t.”

“Like what?” Inquired Dean.

“Like how I’m scared of our future. I don’t know if I want kids. I’m scared our finances are always gonna suck,” she paused and asked aloud. “What else do rom-coms and dramedies fight over?”

“What about it was my idea to move to this town since I live a few towns over?” Dean suggested.

“Too much possibility to lead to physical intimacy. That’s good.” She looked at Sam then Bobby,” Anyone else with ideas?”

“Why does this matter?” Followed up, Dean.

“Sam and I are going to go over to the Reverend’s house upset. If it is feasible to take him down, one of us goes into the bathroom to text you, and then you’ll call Sam trying to reconcile and he lets slip where he is, so you and Bobby come over. Voila,” smirking..

Bobby smirked at her, “You like that word, don’tcha?”

“How often do you get to say voila? Really?!” Alex defended.

Dean and Sam giggled at the defense she offered.

“Oh, Ms. Morgenstern,” said Bobby in a very southern drawl.

This cracked Alex up and she joined them in the giggling.

Later that evening, Alex sat on the bed with her headphones in, she was listening to angry music on her phone.

Sam tapped on her shoulder.

She stopped her music and looked up at him as she took out her headphones. “Time?”

“Yup,” he replied.

She looked at her phone. It was 8:30 pm and dark outside. She bit her lip as she got up and put her headphones in her bag. “Ok.” Licking her lips, she grabbed her bag, “Let’s go.”

Sam watched her a little too long and she caught him. She quirked an eyebrow, “Sorry, thinking.” She smiled in response and nodded. He looked down at his phone, “Uber’s here.”

She handed her bag to Bobby, “Bring it.”

Bobby nodded, “Dean has the address.”

“We will be waiting,” spoke Dean.

The two walked out of the room to their Uber, Alex and Sam still in their clothes from earlier. Sam opened the door for Alex. She smiled and slid in with Sam doing the same.

10 minutes later they arrived at the Reverend’s house.

“Ok,” Sam paid the driver and got out. He put the charms in his pocket. Alex opened her own door and slammed it. Her face showed her annoyance and she started breathing heavily.

“This is stupid, Sam,” she said loudly at him. “We can’t do this. This is not polite. We just met the man.”

“He’s a Reverend for God’s sake,” Sam yelled back.

“We are intruding on his personal life,” she yelled back and took a step back. “I’m going home!” She turned to walk.

Reverend Shipley walked out the door, “Sam? Lizzie? Is everything ok?” He approached them, concern written all over his face.

Alex looked at the Reverend, tears streaming down her face, “Sam’s getting cold feet.”

“I’m not. How can I trust you?” Sam accused her.

“Come on,” he spoke gently and grabbed their shoulders and brought Alex under his left arm with his other arm around Sam’s back. “I’m so glad you came. Let’s go inside and talk.”

Alex nodded, tears slowing down and Sam looking/ (or) looked hurt.

The Reverend had a lovely two-story house. His downstairs was simple with a couch and loveseat in front of a fireplace with the tv on the mantle above. His dining room, which opened to the kitchen, was on the other side of the stairs.

“You have a lovely home,” sniffled Alex.

“Thank you, Lizzie,” the Reverend replied.

“Please sit down,” he motioned them to his den. They sat separated. Sam on the couch and Alex on the loveseat. “Would either of you like a drink? Water, juice, or beer?”

“Beer,” Sam and Alex said in unison and chuckled. As Shipley went to get their drinks, Sam and Alex looked around.

“Reverend,” Alex called out. “Is your family out?” She asked as she noticed no pictures around the room.

He came back and handed out their drinks. “Oh, I’m not married,” he grinned. “It just never happened for me but that’s ok. Means I can help couples like you two.” His eyebrows rose as he looked at Alex’s hand. “Lizzie,” he exclaimed. “I see you have a new engagement ring.”

“Oh!” Alex feigned surprise and held her hand out with a grin. “Yeah, Sam surprised me with it today.” The Reverend took her hand in his.

Sam motioned for him to go to the bathroom and Alex nodded.

Alex stated,” Sam and I were out when he found a wallet so we took it to the police station while I went grocery shopping. Turns out a tourist left it and offered a big reward for its return. Isn’t that sweet of him?”

Sam stood up as Shipley looked at him, “If I may, where is your bathroom?”

“Just around the corner. First door to the left.”

As Sam went to the bathroom following the plan, Alex distracted Shipley.

“So, what’s going on between you two?” Shipley asked.

“I was texting his brother, Dean, and I left my phone open. He went through our text messages, which I have nothing to hide from him but he got upset. See, Dean is my best friend, Sir. We talk about pretty much everything, and being Sam’s brother, helps me know how to support Sam better. Sam did not think that. He said I was cheating on him with Dean. I vehemently denied it because I’m not.” She stood up, “I’ve never cheated on him ever, Reverend. I don’t have feelings for Dean. He’s just my best friend.”

Shipley sat down , “What made him think you were?.”

“I told Dean things I haven’t told Sam yet. I-I was scared. I’m scared this won’t work out, no matter how much I love him and want it to. Dean was even the one who recommended we look around here. He lives just a few towns over,” she said innocently.

A flush was heard in the distance, Sam walked out of the bathroom just as his phone rang.

He groaned as he saw who it was. He answered, “Not now, Dean. We are at the Reverend’s house.”

“We are heading out, Sammy. Be there soon.” Dean advised.

“No, we don’t need you to come over. This is between Lizzie and me. I said NO. Don’t you bring Dad. I mean it,” Sam quickly hung up the phone.

Alex sighed, “He’s coming over, isn’t he?”

Sam nodded, arms crossed, pacing.

Another 10 minutes later, Alex was silent, sitting on the loveseat and Sam was too, while on the couch.

Shipley stood by the door, waiting.

Sam and Alex exchanged a look and he nodded. Sam hoped Dean wasn’t gonna come in guns blazing.

Shipley opened the door and welcomed Dean and Bobby inside. Once inside, Dean walked up to Sam and Alex, “Guys, guys, we’re family. There is no reason we can’t work it out.” He hugged Sam and whispered, “Tell me when.” Dean moved between Sam and Alex as Shipley approached them.

Bobby stayed back and remained silent as the Reverend walked up to the three.

“Sam?,” Alex questioned as she walked closer to the stairs, planning to block him should he try to run.

Sam gave the signal, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus—“

The Reverend doubled over as Sam spoke the words. He raised his hands, pushing Sam and Dean back and flung Alex through the wall.

Bobby continued the exorcism, “Adiuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas—

Shipley looked at Bobby, eyes black revealing the demon inside, and waved his hand, throwing him into the dining room. The demon raced upstairs as the brothers and Bobby recovered. Alex, however, laid unconscious on the kitchen floor.

Sam and Dean followed the Demon upstairs.

“Bobby, Alex,” yelled Dean.

“Go!,” Bobby yelled back. He looked into the kitchen and sighed as he got up then headed up the stairs as well.

About a minute later, a sudden crash upstairs woke Alex up. Looking around, she quickly got up and turned the corner noticing a charm on the floors.

Quickly, she grabbed it, then ran up the stairs holding the Gamellus stone in her left hand inside her pocket, making sure it stayed with her. Throwing knives in between the spaces between the fingers of her right hand. She could feel the demon in the next level of the house. Grunting could be heard from the landing followed by another crash. Running to the sound, she went into a room lined with bookshelves and books and a now broken desk with Bobby on top, hopefully only unconscious. Sam had a bookcase partially on him, also seeming to be unconscious.

The demon was staring at Dean, hand on his shoulder with him entranced, “What do you desire?”

That’s when she remembered: the Gamellus charm is also called an Abraxas charm and the word Abraxas has the same derivative as Abracadabra. A smirk crossed her face, Asmodeus is a clever asshole.

“Abracadabra,” Alex yelled startling the demon who groaned. “Let him go.” She came into the room throwing the knives at Gamellus. He easily redirected them at Dean.

“Nooo!” Alex yelled, her chest ached as she saw the knives collide with his chest in a perfect diagonal line. Tears filled her eyes watching him drop down to his knees, shocked and gritting his teeth. Gamellus moved towards the window as she rushed to Dean, dropping to her next to him, “I’m so sorry.” Her brow furrowed and tears were on the verge of spilling.

“Get him,” Dean forced himself to speak, his voice coming out breathy and gravely through gritted teeth.

Alex looked to Gamellus who was trying to whammy her to no avail,” I’m immune, dumbass.” She quickly moved, throwing one knife after another from her thigh holsters until it was empty. He blocked two of the five knives while three entered his chest.

Unbeknownst to Alex, Dean removed the blades from his own chest and leaned on his hands as the Mark of Cain healed his injuries.

Gamellus edged towards the window, his eye turned black with a grin, and matching black smoke began to bellow from his mouth. “No,” she said as her eyes turned yellow and reached her right hand out to him as if to grab him. Her fingers partially curled in the air in front of her, blocking the sight from Dean. He began to cough, trying to resist her hold on him. “You’re done, Gamellus,” she paused and then yelled, “Abracadabra, Abracadabra, Abracadabra.” Gamellus started to yell again as his body began to glow yellow and orange inside. “Abracadabra, Abracadabra,” Alex tightened her invisible grip on the demon as her knuckles began to turn white. He continued to yell in pain. “Abracadabra, Abracadabra, Abracadabra,” she stated calmly and relaxed her hand as the possessed body was burned from the inside out, destroyed by the cursed words.

Immediately, Alex ran to Bobby’s form. “Bobby,” she called out to him. “Bobby, wake up,” she commanded with no response. She rolled him more on his side then saw the large piece of desk sticking out of his back, causing her to gasp. She pulled the wood out and placed her hand on his side. Her hand glowed yellow and her eyes glowed blue, and Bobby awoke with a small groan. Alex smiled, “Hey.” His dark colored eyes looked at her and replied weakly, “Hey.” She helped him sit up and hugged him, “I’m glad you’re ok.” He reached his hand around his side, “Thanks to you, it would seem.” She grinned a bit uneasy and used her head to motion to the brothers.

Dean looked at them as he helped Sam up and then spoke angrily, “Someone want to tell me what the fuck I just saw?”

“What did you see?” Sam asked Dean. He looked around the room seeing Gamellus showing the telltale signs of being smote or similar, eyes having been burned out and mouth open as if screaming.

Alex stood and helped Bobby up as she replied, “I-I can explain.”

Bobby sighed, “Was gonna happen eventually.” He looked at the brothers and defended her, “She’s no danger, boys.”

She turned to him with her hands on her hips and a pout. “I know. I know. I was just hoping it wasn’t gonna be so soon,” she confessed and crossed her arms.

Dean and Sam looked at Bobby who rolled his eyes, and waved them to follow out and down the stairs.

Alex immediately followed Bobby with Dean and then Sam behind. Dean’s eye stared at her behind as the dress swayed, clinging to her ass with every step she took as they went down the stairs. Sam, easily caught his brother, smacked him on the shoulder causing Dean to look back at him then gave him an incredulous look telling Dean to stop non-verbally.

“Wait a sec.” She paused on the stairs and turned to looked at Dean, ignoring him staring at her ass, “How the fuck are you healed? Gamellus made my knives go right into your chest and all I see are holes in your shirt. You should either be wheezing and bleeding out or dead.”

“The Mark of Cain,” replied Bobby before the brothers could respond.

“Having fun telling everyone’s secrets, I see,” Alex spoke and arched a brow at Bobby.

Sam and Dean glared at Bobby the instant the words came out.

“What? She was gonna find out,” he said incredulously. “Might as well say it now. She might even know something you don't know about it,” he said haughtily. That was probably true.

Alex’s eyes had returned to normal as she looked like her eyes were gonna pop out of her head, “Wait, The Mark of Cain? As in Father of Murder? Knight of Hell? Cain is still alive?!. How….Why?!” She looked very confused and distraught. “Why would you ever be willing to get the Mark of Cain? You’re a hunter; you kill demons, especially ones like Cain.” A thought suddenly hit her, “ How did you find Cain?”

“Can we do this in the car?” Interrupted an agitated Bobby.

Alex glared her ‘bitch face’ at him and spoke through gritted teeth, “Fine.” She realized her reaction may have been an overreaction. She stood in front of the brothers then focused on Dean, asking him, “Are you ok doing this in the car or back at the motel?”

“You gonna smite me?” Dean asked with a straight face.

“I didn’t smite him. The words killed him,” she grinned and turned to Bobby. “Asmodeus cursed him by saying abracadabra nine times to kill him. Ha!”

Bobby chuckled and turned, walking down the stairs and then out the front door. “Bobby,” Sam called, walking around the two on the stairs and then followed him out.

Alex’s eyes followed Bobby’s and Sam’s movements. She shrugged and called out, “It was funny!”

“Dean,” Alex began and turned back to him. She took a step closer to Dean, causing him to be only a step higher than her, exaggerating their height difference more so than usual . She sucked in a deep breath then slowly exhaled while looking at his forest eyes. Damn, she thought, I wonder if they change color during— stop it. No. Bad brain.

“Alex?” Dean raised an eyebrow at her trying to hide his smirk as she stared in his eyes.

“Sorry, um,” she began again then quietly spoke, “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that I would ever be willing to hurt you.” After a beat, she added quietly, softly stating,“No, I would never smite you or willingly hurt you. You’re safe with me. You’ll see. I’m glad that you’re okay. I just wish it was from some other way.” She smiled briefly but could feel her cheeks heating up. She cleared her throat and squeezed her eyes shut, with her face downward. She looked up, turned around and went down the stairs to which Dean followed. She took a step off to the side of the stairs and paused. “Oh, right,” she said aloud, realizing the house was a complete disaster and they had fingerprints everywhere.

Dean paused in mid-stride and looked at her. “What?.”

She took a deep breath, briefly closed her eyes and raised her hands.

Dean walked to the open front door and leaned on the frame watching her.

Alex spoke in a commanding, confident voice, “Relinquere non parvum quod.” She stood there with her head very slowly leaning side to side as she subtly waved her hands and fingers for a few moments.

Dean tensed as he felt a shift in the air. A wind was pulled through the front door and seemed to be winding through the house— paper ruffling noises and loud creaking noises heard upstairs— as if the wind was to almost calm the place, but he saw the damage to the walls were put together almost like a mechanic would pull a dent out of car, as if it never occurred. Dropping her hands to her sides, she turned around and was surprised to see Dean in the doorway.

“Did you get rid of the body too?” Dean inquired.

Alex walked up to him. “No, that is someone’s loved one who's dead up there and they deserve to be treated as such. There is no evidence, otherwise, that we were ever here. Magick is the only thing that I know of that could reveal anything that happened.” She quickly added, “I really am glad that you’re ok. I’m also really sorry that my knives hurt you. I will do all I can to make sure it won’t happen again. Even if I have to spell them.”

Dean gave her a half smile and nodded, “I know.” He turned and walked to Baby with Alex in tow who looked confused. How would he know? She thought.

Bobby and Sam are already in the car waiting. Alex jogged ahead and went into the back passenger seat. Bobby raised an eyebrow at her and gave her kissy noises.

“Oh my God, Daddy Singer. Grow up,” Alex began to blush, rolled her eyes at his actions and chuckled when she saw Bobby had a disgruntled look on his face at ‘Daddy Singer.’

Sam turned around confused and half smiled, “What was that?”

Alex shook her head,”Nothing. It’s an inside joke.”

“What’s an inside joke?” Asked Dean, getting in the car.

“Nothing,” she said with a deeper and louder voice. “Can we go?”

Sam laughed; pretty sure he knew what Bobby was teasing her and looked at Dean. As he drove back towards the motel, Sam asked, “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Dean replied matter-of-factly and kept eyes on the road. Without skipping a beat, he glanced in the rearview mirror at Alex, “So, Alex, how long you been an Angel?”

Alex looked at Bobby who nodded.”You sure?”

“I trust these boys. They’re like my own sons,” Bobby affectionately said.

Alex chewed on her lower lip and nodded at Bobby. She turned to Sam who met her gaze and towards Dean. “I don’t really talk about this…I don’t tell many people this…but if Bobby trusts you, then I trust you. If you’re his family, you're my family.”

Then started to explain. “I’m not—,” she paused. “It’s my heritage. I have an angelic heritage but I’m not an Angel, I think.” She paused again, eyes looking up and away for a few moments, pursing her lips in thought then added, “I’m genetically an Angel as in I’m only one-sixteenth angel. Like I’m the fourth or fifth generation from the Angel of the Lord that my family started from.” She paused yet again and said sheepishly, “I think I’m overstating this.”

“I got it,” said Sam with an encouraging smile. “You’re not an angel in the usual sense or a Nephilim. You’re…less than that.”

“Sort of,” she glanced at Bobby who encouraged her to continue by nodding.

Dean continued to glance between the road and the rear view mirror at Alex as she spoke.

“I’m not just part Angel though.” She looked down to her lap and fiddled with her knives in their holster. She spoke loud enough to be heard, “I’m technically…part Demon too.”

Sam turned around and looked at her. Bobby glared at him in a way of saying "keep your mouth shut" to which Sam first looked confused and then shot back a glare of his own saying "what the hell, Bobby?"

She continued without seeing the exchange, “Um one-eighth, which means I’m three or four generations from the Demon that started that part of my family line. I just want to be straightforward and honest with you and not hide anything.” She swallowed, nervously.

“Hmm,” Dean replied. “Tell many other hunters?” He asked.

“Like I said before.I don’t really talk about this, so no. The few that I tried either tried to kill me or tried to use me for their gain. I don’t have all the abilities that angels and demons do. I’m limited.”

“Bobby, how do you know her?” Sam asked.

“He knows my Father”, she answered. “He’s worked with him on and off for years,” Alex explained and Bobby let her. “And then when I started hunting, I was 14, my Father introduced me to Bobby, and after a few cases, proceeded to leave me there for…what was it? A week? My Mother was oh so pissed.”

“Something like that,” Bobby replied. “I was pissed too. Nothing on you, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I know, Bobby. My parents are a match made in Hell. I’m still surprised you even put up with him.”

“He comes in handy or gets access to books and artifacts I wouldn’t be able to get to without the law being an issue.”

“Ah, yeah, my Father, having the archaeological gig, does help with a lot of hunting but that’s if you can get a hold of him. He isn’t very reliable right now,” Alex agreed.

“Yeah, well, he fucked up and now Heaven’s on his ass,” Bobby said flatly.

Alex laughed, “You think that is why I’m here? Did he tell you that I was staying until it’s safe too?”

“Wait, what?” Said Bobby confused.

Alex giggled.

Sam and Dean also chimed in with their “What?” as well.

Alex closed her eyes and facepalmed, “That fucking coward. He does this to me every fucking time.” She looked at Bobby, “He said a week or two, right?”

Bobby nodded.

“You forget how I was born and lived in Hell until I was 10 which is the last time Heaven tried to come down on us. It ain’t Heaven. He wants to keep tabs on me for whatever reason.”

“What?!” The brothers asked in unison again.

She then stated, “I still have no fucking clue what he did this time or is into. Maybe he is trying to convince my siblings to stop their shit.”

“I actually thought it was because of your siblings?” Bobby inquired.

Alex laughed, “Is that what he mentioned to you?!” She scoffed. “The man is a coward. He won’t fight unless he knows he can win, and while he will do everything he can to keep his family safe, it’s only so long as he keeps himself safe too. He is not a hero, Bobby. It’s not because of my siblings that I am here; I’m dealing with them whether he wants me to or not. Unless he somehow has information I don’t, which I highly doubt since I’ve been the one actively keeping tabs on them and not him. He’s a terrible tracker in spite of his own abilities. He depends on his shitty skills, mostly other hunters, and magic. He taught me to fight which he is very good at but he would rather run away from one anyhow.” She rolled her eyes at her own words.

“Can we back up a moment? You were born and raised in Hell?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Yes. It’s a physical location, Hell. It has actual rocky walls and caverns, hot windy, acrid air, and the smell of sulfur and brimstone is practically everywhere. So, yes, a person can be born there, not that that really happens, ever.” She shrugged and looked at Sam a moment then to Bobby who patted her on the shoulder.

Dean continued looking at the road a few moments longer, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. He knew what Hell was like and was amazed at how well adjusted she was to the human world. He wondered if there was more to it.

“What’s happening with your siblings?” Dean inquired as he glanced at the rearview mirror to try get a read her face, safely.

Before Alex could begin, Dean announced, “Hey, we are here. Everybody out and to our room.”

Alex arched an eyebrow silently but grabbed her bag from the floorboard and waited for everyone else to get out.

As they walked up to the brothers’ room, she quickly stated,“The deal with my siblings and me is a long arduous story that I do not want to get into right now. Another time, I promise but definitely not tonight.”

He put his hand on her shoulder producing a small smile on her lips, “Siblings can be rough.”

Sam gave Dean his hardest bitch face while staring at the back of his head as he got his stuff and headed to their shared room. “I heard that.”

“Yeah, we’ll, it’s true,” Dean replied.

“Where’s your room, Alex?” Bobby asked from behind her.

“I don’t have one. I’m staying with a friend who lives about an hour away,” she said matter of factly. “I’m meeting them at the bar down the road in a bit, so I got time. Which reminds me, what time are y’all heading out? I can make sure to be here before then.”

“Eight,” replied Dean.

“A friend?” Bobby asked in disbelief.

“What? Yes, a friend from college, old man, or did you forget I do have a Ph.D.? Y’all should be calling me Dr. Alex or Dr. Morgenstern.” She paused and shook her head “I like Dr. Alex better.” She winked at Dean with a cheeky grin who reciprocated the grin.

Bobby scoffed and laughed as he rolled his eyes. “You know, you two have the same success rates at bars, Honey.”

Alex looked at Dean confused, “Do I even want to know about this success rate of yours?”

Dean blushed as he walked up the stairs and opened the door “My successes are none of your business.”

“Yeah, Alex, you’re not his usual,” commented Sam, making her raise an eyebrow at him.

“There is a usual. Hmm.” Alex replied, a little sad. She didn’t show it but was surprised at the teasing.

Alex pouted her lips, having followed him up the stairs, “I don’t know. Bobby seems to think differently. How is your success rate with the ladies?” She cheekily grinned at him as she put her bag down next to the little table next to the tv and sat down. “I don’t have much of an issue with them or me ,” she stated matter-of-fact.

Bobby and Sam quickly entered as well and chuckled at Dean’s embarrassment which caught Alex’s eyes as he attempted to ignore and deflect. She watched them tease each other, the brothers, and put their stuff down. Bobby closed the door behind him.

“Oh, drop it,” said Bobby to the brothers and Alex as she enjoyed the show. She sat on the bed, leaning forward on her knees.

Bobby stated, “Rough night for us all. At least everyone’s alive and kicking.”

Alex nodded in agreement, “That’s true. Always a celebration there.” She looked up at Dean sheepishly, “Sorry.”

He shook his head as if to say don’t worry about it.

Sam looked at Alex a little confused, first she is claiming a friend is where she is gonna stay then Bobby implies she is gonna pick someone up at the bar instead and now she is flirting with Dean about his success rate, and then apologizing about the flirting because Bobby said so. He was confused, and looked at Dean who seemed to have calmed down as he sat on his queen size bed.

“Hey, guys, any other questions before I head out?” She asked them bluntly.

“You’re gonna be safe, right?” Bobby inquired fatherly-like.

“Yes, Dad,” Alex mocked him. “Anything else you’d like to know about my sex life?” Further mocking him.

“Can you have kids?” Sam asked without thinking. He blushed, realizing what he asked and looked down with an embarrassed blush creeping up his neck, “Sorry.”

Alex straightened up, eyes widened at the question and face seemed to pale slightly . “Y-Yes,” she said, a little uneasy. She took a deep breath and quietly exhaled before asking.

Everyone could tell it was a loaded answer but no one pressed her for more.

“Dean, got any other questions I can answer for you?”

“What do you know of The Mark of Cain? Can it be removed?” He sat leaning over his elbows on his knees, his green eyes meeting Alex’s hazel ones.

“Technically, as I understand, it can be removed; however, it’s detrimental to the world if you do without another bearer.”

“Why?” Asked Dean.

“I don’t know. I just keep coming across how dangerous it is to not have a bearer, not the reason why. There is no written human record as to why from what I can tell and I’ve looked for several years. I assume it’s some big bad monster. You can make any symbol a sigil anything you want it to be as well as make it a key or lock. Despite the fact that The Mark is divine, it’s a curse, the first, which says a lot. It’s weird that God allowed the first curse to be made and Lucifer to give it to a human which means Lucifer had to be the first bearer of the Mark. Might explain why things played out the way they did. God allowed his favorite son to be warped by the Mark. I mean, it seems odd that God’s new favorite creatures were allowed to be corrupted by the Mark. God intentionally created the Mark as it is where it warps and changes the wearer. It’s a strange concept, biblically speaking,” Alex explains.

“What do you mean?” Asked Sam.

“It would mean God made the first curse and placed it on his favorite son, allowing his son to be changed, potentially that being part of the reason why the war in heaven occurred, and potentially to give Lucifer the ability to create demons since the Mark will change its wearer into a demon, if needed. Look at Cain. I mean I know Lucifer warped human souls into demons but what many people forget is that Lucifer was not the only Angel that was cast into Hell. He changed the other angels that went with him into the Princes of Hell, his Generals. They used to be angels before they were demons. He is the only other divine being to possibly create or at least change something God made from a power-sense. It would imply he is more powerful than his siblings, at least at that point in time. With Cain having been the new bearer, he resisted the Mark until he too became a demon to force him to feed the Mark, per se. I don’t get what it gets out of killing other than maybe energy which would be used to protect its wearer. It just seems weird that it requires the bearer to kill regularly. Why would God make something that requires someone to kill regularly? It seems the opposite of what God is supposed to be about.”

“Got a point there,” agreed Bobby.

Alex thought to ask if they might be able to find someone else to bear the Mark; but she thought better of it because from what she knew of Dean, he would never allow someone else to suffer so that he didn’t have to. She stood up and grabbed her bag, “Alright, I think I’m done tonight with questions.”

“Need a ride to the bar?” Dean offered with a small smile.

“Nah, it isn’t too far from here. I don’t mind walking. I’m a big girl, I am very good at taking care of myself,” she teased with a smirk and opened the door then, through wiggling her butt at Dean.

Sam quirked a brow and chuckled as he watched her walk out.

Bobby rolled his eyes.

In case you want to know some of the songs on her angry music playlist. Part of her playlist was:

Sick of you by Selena Gomez and the Scene

Shut up by Simple Plan

I belong to me by Jessica Simpson

I’m gonna show you crazy by Bebe Rexha

Crawling by Linkin park

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