#and i’m down bad for mark of cain dean

[ameliesopp]

I relate to Castiel because I, too, would probably defy heaven to save Dean Winchester’s fine ass.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

An Illness of a Different Kind

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x3) and @aestheticdaisies

Synopsis: you (5) get sick, but you don’t want to tell your brothers because of something they did to you.

Warnings: hurt feelings, illness, throwing up.

For you, the morning began as any other. You’d wandered out of your room the minute you woke up, and went to the kitchen in search of your brothers.

You found Dean sitting at the counter, and wasted no time in toddling over to him and demanding to be picked up. Being only 5, you took no notice of the dark circles under his eyes or the fierceness in his gaze. But you did see the mark on his arm that hadn’t been there before.

You grabbed his arm and pulled it to you, running your fingers over the strange symbol.

“Somebody hurted you?” You asked him—you’d seen many scars in your short life, and a scar was the closest thing you’d seen to the Mark of Cain.

“No,” Dean answered gruffly, yanking his sleeve down. With the mark had come a strangely powerful anger that kept him awake, and he found it growing when you touched the mark, along with a pain in his arm that pulsed and expanded and made him want to snap.

“What happened?” You asked, and Dean softened when you blinked up at him innocently.

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted.

You obeyed, your mind instantly finding something else to focus on.

“De, I’m hungry.”

Dean barely bit back a snarky remark, reminding himself that you were only five, and it was his job to get you fed.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled, standing up and setting you down in his seat before turning to the fridge. “Want some eggs?”

“No,” you argued. “I want Fruit Loops.”

Dean rolled his eyes, setting the egg carton back down and snatching the milk. “Fine,” he repeated.

“You’re grumpy,” you noted simply.

“What’d you say to me?” Dean snapped, turning on his heel to glare at you. You were taken aback, and your mouth slammed shut as you shrunk in your chair. “That’s what I thought,” Dean huffed, tossing a bowl down in front of you and filling it with cereal. He poured the milk in and shoved the bowl closer to you.

With shaky fingers, you picked up the spoon he offered and swallowed down a mouthful of cereal. Dean wasn’t watching anymore, so he didn’t pick up on the way you cringed. He did see how you pushed the bowl away, though. His arm pulsed in pain, and he gritted his teeth as he spoke to you.

“What’s wrong now?”

“I don’t like it,” you whined. “It tastes bad.”

“Of course,” Dean scoffed. “You know, can’t anything just be easy with you?” He grabbed your bowl, throwing it into the sink; except he threw it much harder than he meant to, and the glass bowl smashed against the wall above the sink. But Dean didn’t even flinch as shattered glass and spilled milk fell to the floor, but you were shaking in your seat as he turned his anger back to you. “Can’t you ever just take what I give you and be grateful? Can’t you ever just stop whining and shut up?!”

You jumped down off your stool and ran for the door, and Dean stiffened in surprise. His anger was fading almost as fast as it had sprung up, the pain in his arm weakening. He had never yelled at you like that, especially not over something so stupid.

“What’s with the mess?” Sam’s sudden presence in the kitchen snapped Dean out of his stupor.

“I…dropped a bowl,” Dean mumbled.

Sam hummed. “I’m gonna take Y/N to school,” he announced, grabbing an apple out of the fridge and moving to put the milk away before stopping. “And I’ll stop at the store on the way home,” he added, tossing the milk in the trash can and heading for the door, adding over his shoulder—“the milk’s expired.”

…

Dean stewed in his room all day, considering the events of the morning. He’d always struggled with his anger, but it had never taken control of him like that—especially not in front of you. This mark on his arm would only get worse, so he had to take control of it.

If he could snap like that over some milk—

How much control did Cain’s Mark have over him?

“Hey.” Sam knocked at Dean’s semi-open door to announce his presence. “You find anything else out about Abaddon?”

Dean closed his laptop—he hadn’t really been looking at it anyway.

“Not yet,” Dean admitted. “You picked up Y/N from school already?”

“Yeah, and I wanted to talk to you about that. I got an email from one of her classmate’s mom. Her kid is sick, and she thinks there’s something going around. Y/N always seems to catch these things when they go around, so I want to watch her to see if she starts getting sick.”

Dean hummed in agreement, but when Sam started to leave Dean stopped him.

“Wait, I…I don’t know if you want me hanging around her much.”

Sam was immediately suspicious. “Why? What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dean insisted. “The mark is dangerous, and I want to keep her away from it.”

“She lives here, Dean,” Sam argued. “And you’re her big brother. We can’t just keep her away from you.” He huffed. “Is that why she was so quiet this morning? Dean, you can’t run from this, you gotta deal with it.”

Dean gritted his teeth as his arm pulsed in pain, and he didn’t respond to his brother for a long moment.

“Fine,” he decided. “But if I start getting worse ‘cause of this thing, then we go back to my plan and you keep her away from me.”

Sam gave his brother a sharp nod, and Dean reluctantly stood and went to check on you.

…

You were laying on your bed—unusual for so early in the afternoon—with your back to Dean when he knocked and entered your room.

“Hey kid,” he greeted, and he could swear he heard your breath catch. “Takin a nap?”

You sidestepped his question, sitting up. “Do you need something?” You asked. “I can get up.”

Dean swallowed. He couldn’t do this—let you worry so much about pleasing him; you were only 5. He couldn’t let you turn into him.

“No, no it’s ok,” he assured you. “How are you feeling?” Pain shot into Dean’s arm, and he felt his impatience growing, but he tamped it down and focused on you.

“I’m fine.” You couldn’t meet his eye, a sure sign that you were lying.

“Are you getting sick?” He asked, pushing your answer—your face was pale, and he didn’t believe you.

“I’m fine,” you repeated with a sniffle. Before Dean could challenge you, you hopped off your bed and went to your desk. “I gotta do homework with Sammy,” you mumbled, picking up your addition workbook and rushing out of the room.

Dean rubbed at his arm, biting back a huff of annoyance. Getting you to talk to him now would be harder than he thought.

…

Dean was halfway down the hallway when he caught up to you—you were doubled over, whatever you’d had for lunch no longer in your stomach.

“Whoa whoa, hey—“ Dean rushed you to, and it took much more concentration than it should have for him to be gentle when he pulled your hair away from your face and held it back.

“I’m sorry.” When you finally stopped, tears streaming down your face, those were the first words you said.

“Don’t be sorry,” he soothed.

“What’s going on?” Sam stepped into the hallway then stopped in his tracks.

“Can you clean up?” Dean asked as he lifted you into his arms. “I’ve got her.”

“You sure?” Sam looked from you to Dean, and Dean again had to push down an unwarranted anger.

“I’ve got her,” he repeated, and without another word he turned and carried you to your bathroom. “I’m gonna get you some clean clothes, you brush your teeth, ok?”

You obeyed without comment, and soon enough you were cleaned up and resting in your bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t feel good?” Dean asked.

You fiddled with your sheets while you answered, “I didn’t wanna be whiny.”

Dean’s own words flashed in his mind, and he cringed.

“Kiddo, I didn’t mean to yell at you this morning. If you’re sick, you gotta tell me, ok?”

“Why were you so angry?” You sniffled, your eyes once again brimming with tears.

Dean sighed, searching for the right way to answer you. Eventually, he decided on the truth—you deserved that.

“See this mark?” He held out his arm to you. “It’s magic. It makes me stronger—but sometimes it makes me angry, too.”

“Can you make it go away?” You asked.

“I…don’t know,” Dean answered honestly. “But I’m gonna try hard to not let it make me mean, ok? So long as you try really hard to always tell me how you’re feeling.”

“Ok,” you agreed. “De? I feel sick.”

Dean but back a smile, nodding.

“Ok, thanks for telling me. What hurts, kiddo?”

“My tummy,” you said. “And I’m sleepy.”

“Ok, yeah. I’m gonna get you some water, and I want you to take a nap, ok?”

“But I don’t want to, my tummy hurts too much.” The tears were falling now, and Dean had to bite back half a dozen angry responses that came far too quickly to his mind.

“Just try, ok? Try for me kid.”

“I don’t want to.” You were nearly sobbing now, and Dean had to clench his fist under your blanket to keep himself in check.

She’s just grumpy because she’s in pain, he told himself. It’s not her fault.

Despite this, Dean felt his anger continue to grow—he had to get out of this room.

“I’m gonna go get Sam,” he told you, rushing out of the room before you could protest.

Dean took slow, measured breaths, trying to force his anger down.

“She ok?” Sam’s voice set Dean’s teeth on edge, and again he found himself biting back harsh words.

“Sick,” Dean said. “She’s sick. I can’t get her to sleep, can you…”

Sam recognized Dean’s stiff stance and clenched fists immediately, and took over.

“I’ve got her,” Sam assured him. “Don’t worry about it.”

…

“Don’t worry about it” didn’t last long, but your illness did. Long after the sickness passed in your K5 class, you were still holed up in your room, not able to keep down anything but broth and water—if Sam fed it to you slowly enough.

He took you to the doctor half a a dozen times over the next month, but it didn’t help; no one knew what was wrong. Sam felt like he was being pulled apart at the edges, between trying to save Dean from the Mark and trying to save you from your illness, all while having to deal with your tantrums and Dean’s outbursts, neither of which he could blame on the two of you—a five year old in pain is going to cry, and a man with the Mark of Cain is going to have anger issues.

Sam just had to be on the receiving end of both.

By the end of the second month, Sam was desperate. Cas and Rowena had tried a million different ways to heal you, but nothing worked. He’d gone through every lore book, but couldn’t find a way to get rid of the Mark of Cain.

He just couldn’t win.

Especially now, with you crying on the couch and Dean was arguing with a silent Cas.

As your cries grew louder and Dean’s anger became more potent, Sam physically felt his final nerve snap.

“Would both of you shut up?!” He demanded. The room became deadly silent. “I can’t take it anymore! The two of you are going to kill me at this rate! All I need is a single moment of peace, ok?!”

The simple outburst was followed by a dispersion of the anger in Sam’s chest—he hadn’t screamed at anyone like that since his father was alive.

The moment was followed by a deep shame when you jumped up off the couch and ran for your room—the most you’d moved in weeks, and it was to escape his anger.

Dean didn’t seem to know what to do; it was the first time in weeks that he wasn’t the angriest person in the room.

“I’m so—I’m sorry.” Sam swallowed. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Dean insisted; he understood better than anyone the need to get out your anger. “But you might wanna go tell that to Y/N.”

…

Sam’s heart dropped at the sound of your sobs as he slipped into your room.

“Hey kiddo,” he greeted, and he cringed when your body stiffened on your bed.

“Did I do something bad?” You whimpered, and Sam swore his heart broke.

“No, no sweetheart.” Sam sat on the edge of your bed, giving you a little space if you wanted it. “I just got angry.”

“Did you get Dean’s mean mark?”

“No.” Sam smiled faintly. “I just get mad sometimes.” Sam was relieved when you found your way into his lap—you weren’t upset.

“But you don’t yell,” you said. “And I didn’t like it.”

“I know.” Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.” He kissed your head, cradling you in his lap. “You’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow,” he said absently. “Maybe they can finally get you something to make you feel better. That’d be nice, yeah?” He looked down when he didn’t hear a response from you.

You were fast asleep.

…

Sam was having a great day. Dean had slept for a ridiculously long time (like 8 hours) last night, and his mood had—somewhat—improved. And whatever ridiculous cocktail of half a dozen medications the doctor had put you on was finally working—you’d eaten pizza last night, and you were in front of Sam demolishing a giant waffle now for breakfast.

“You sure you’re feeling better, kid?” Dean asked for the millionth time. You nodded, swallowing down the last bites of your waffle before jumping up on your chair and then into Dean’s arms. Sam noticed that you were getting syrup all over Dean, who was being surprisingly patient with you as he cleaned you up.

“Now we just gotta make you feel better,” you insisted, poking at Dean’s Mark.

“Yeah.” Dean cringed. “I’m sure we will.”

Sam knew that Dean didn’t mean it—they knew nothing more about the Mark then they did two months ago—but the fact that he was keeping a brave face for you was good; it was like the old Dean.

Sometimes Sam wasn’t so sure about his family—the one that felt like it was held together with duct tape and safety pins—but he knew that as long as they held onto each other, they’d turn out ok.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810 @tell-elle

[destielaureversebb]

Coming soon for the @destielaureversebb: “Eternally Yours” 

Author: @avonlady42 Artist: @wigglebox

Rating: Mature Archive warnings: None Length: 12,832 words Tags:  Canon AU, MOC!Dean, Demon Dean, BAMF Castiel, Mild Angst With Happy Ending Relationships: Dean/Castiel

Summary:  The Mark of Cain has turned Dean into a demon, and he becomes the right hand man to the King of Hell. Eventually taking the throne for himself, Dean loses himself to the darkness and begins to forget the people in his life. One day, the Mark suddenly disappears from his arm, and an angel shows up to rescue him–something he’s done before, if Dean’s sudden memories that are thrust onto him by the angel are anything to go by.

Excerpt: 

“I have a proposition for you,” Crowley tells Dean, a glimmer of something bordering on hope in the King of Hell’s eyes.

“I already told you, I’m not interested. Becoming a demon didn’t change that,” Dean tells him, hoping he’ll get the hint this time. The moment he inherited the black eyes, he had finally let go of all his pent up internalized homophobia, but not even lack of emotions and inhibitions would make him sleep with Crowley.

“Not about that. You made your feelings on that particular subject very clear.” The demon takes a sip of his fruity drink before continuing. “I’m talking about a different kind of partnership. One that involves you by my side in Hell, ruling together. We would have complete control of the demons. They wouldn’t dare go against you as long as you bear the Mark.”

Dean takes a swig of his beer. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea, but he’s sure there’s a catch. After all, this is Crowley he’s dealing with. Even as a demon, Dean knows not to trust him as far as he can throw him.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” The older demon pauses for a minute and then adds, “If you go down this path though, there’s no turning back. That brother and angel of yours might not be able to forgive everything you might do. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

Posting date: February 14, 2025  

[deans-queen]

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐰

Pairing: Dean x Y/N (Female Reader)

Summary: Y/N finds Dean cheating on her with Lisa.

Warnings: angst, light smut (nothing too crazy), mentions of cheating, language. (Let me know if I miss any)

Pre-AN: This fills the "I thought it'd be hell, but I was wrong. It was way worse." square for @jacklesversebingo. This fic is also inspired by the song "Take a Bow" by Rhianna -> hence the title. (Bold/italic text -> song lyrics)

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

I never thought my heart could break—especially not because of the one person I believed would never hurt me… Dean Winchester.

I stood there, frozen in the doorway of the motel room, my heart pounding like a sledgehammer. The sight in front of me was like a bad dream—Dean, half-dressed, his hands tangled in Lisa’s hair as she giggled against his lips.

It took a moment for them to notice me. When they did, Lisa scrambled to grab her shirt, and Dean’s face fell. “Y/N, wait—”

“Don’t,” I snapped, holding up a trembling hand. My voice cracked, but I refused to cry in front of them. “Don’t you fucking dare, Dean!!”

“And don’t tell me you’re sorry,” I spat, my voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Cause you’re not.”

“Y/N, it’s not what it looks like—”

I laughed, the sound bitter and broken. “Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like what it is. A show. A goddamn performance. Bravo, Dean. Go on and take your FUCKING bow!”

Lisa mumbled something about leaving, but I didn’t even look at her as she slipped out the door. My focus was entirely on Dean—the man who’d claimed to love me, who’d made me believe I was his everything.

“Y/N, that’s not fair.”

“Fair?” I stepped closer, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You want to talk about fair? I gave you everything, Dean. I stood by you through all the crap with Sam, the apocalypse, the Mark of Cain. Hell, I even put up with your obsession with pie. And this is what I get?”

He didn’t have an answer. His jaw clenched, and for once, Dean Winchester—the man with a smartass comment for everything—was silent.

I turned on my heel and walked out, slamming the door behind me.

The days after I walked out of that motel room felt like crawling through shards of glass. I told myself I was better off without him, that I deserved more than what he gave me. But no matter how many times I repeated it, the ache in my chest didn’t fade. It was like carrying a wound that refused to heal.

Every time my phone buzzed, my heart betrayed me, leaping with hope, only to crash when I saw the screen. Dean called constantly at first—voicemails, texts, all pleading for a chance to explain.

“Y/N, please. I screwed up. Just… talk to me. Let me fix this.”

But I couldn’t bear to hear his voice, not when it haunted me even in silence.

Nights were the worst. I’d lie awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, his words playing over and over in my head. That stupid, broken look on his face when I caught him. The way his voice cracked as he tried to justify the unjustifiable.

Don’t tell me you’re sorry, ‘cause you’re not…

Baby when I know you’re only sorry you got caught

But you put on quite a show, really had me going…

Now it’s time to go, curtains finally closing

I tried to hate him, to convince myself he was just like every other man who’d let me down. But that was the problem—Dean wasn’t like anyone else. He was everything. The way he’d look at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in his world. The way he’d pull me close after a hunt, his lips on my forehead, whispering that he’d always keep me safe. And yet, he was the one who’d broken me.

I couldn’t escape the memories, no matter how hard I tried. Every corner of my life was touched by him. The leather jacket he’d left draped over the back of my chair. The stupid pie recipe he’d convinced me to try, still pinned to my fridge. Even my car smelled faintly of his cologne, like it was mocking me every time I climbed in.

My best friend tried to help. She dragged me out for drinks, told me I deserved better, cursed Dean’s name with a venom that should’ve made me feel better.

But it didn’t. Because deep down, I knew she was wrong. Dean wasn’t a bad man. He was a broken one. And maybe that’s why it hurt so much—because he’d been broken long before me, and I’d foolishly thought I could be the one to fix him.

Weeks passed, and the silence between us stretched, but the ache never faded. I avoided places I thought he might show up, though part of me secretly hoped he would. Maybe he’d come to the diner where I worked, storming through the door with that determined look in his eyes, telling me he wasn’t giving up.

But he didn’t.

So I told myself I was moving on. I focused on work, threw myself into tasks, and pretended I didn’t notice the empty space beside me where Dean used to be.

But late at night, when the world was quiet and there was no one to distract me, I’d feel it—the crushing weight of losing him. Not just the man who’d kissed me like I was the air he needed to breathe, but the partner who’d fought beside me, the friend who’d laughed with me, the lover who’d held me when the nightmares came.

Loving Dean had been both the best and worst decision of my life. Because even though he’d broken me, even though I knew I deserved better, I couldn’t stop loving him. And that was the cruelest part of all.

The next day there was a knock on my door. It was soft but insistent, cutting through the quiet hum of rain outside. I didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was. I’d felt his presence long before I opened the door.

When I finally turned the handle, there he was—Dean Winchester, soaking wet, his rain-drenched hair falling over his forehead, and his leather jacket clinging to his broad shoulders. His eyes locked on mine, a storm of emotions swirling in that familiar green.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice rough like gravel, his breath coming in shallow pants as if he’d run here.

“Dean,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I didn’t want him here, not after everything he’d done. And yet, the sight of him—so broken, so desperate—tugged at something deep in me.

“Don’t shut me out,” he pleaded, stepping forward, but not too close, like he was afraid I’d slam the door in his face. “I know I don’t deserve you. Hell, I don’t deserve even a second of your time after what I did. But I couldn’t stay away anymore.”

I crossed my arms, trying to shield myself from the wave of emotions crashing over me. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here.”

“I know,” he said, his voice cracking. “But I can’t do this, Y/N. I thought I could live without you, thought I could figure out a way to move on, but I was wrong. God, I was so wrong.” He raked a hand through his hair, his frustration bleeding into his words. “I thought it would be hell without you, but I was wrong. It was worse—so much worse.”

His words hit me like a punch to the chest, and I had to grip the doorframe to steady myself. “You think a pretty speech is going to fix this?” I asked, my voice trembling. “You broke me, Dean. You destroyed me. Do you even understand what you did to me?”

“I do,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he stepped closer. His green eyes burned into mine, raw and vulnerable. “I wake up every day and hate myself for it. For letting you walk out, for betraying you. For being the kind of guy you could never trust again.”

I wanted to yell at him, to shove him away, but the look on his face—like he was unraveling right in front of me—made my anger falter.

“I didn’t come here to ask you to forgive me,” he continued, his voice shaking. “I came here because I can’t breathe without you, Y/N. I don’t know how to exist in a world where you’re not mine.”

“Dean,” I started, my voice wavering, but he cut me off.

“I love you,” he said, stepping closer, his hand hovering near my cheek but not quite touching. “And I know I don’t deserve to say it after what I did, but it’s the truth. I love you so damn much it’s killing me.”

His words unraveled the fragile walls I’d built around my heart. A sob escaped my throat, and before I could stop myself, I whispered, “I hate that I still love you.”

Dean exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for weeks. He closed the small gap between us, his hands finally cradling my face with a gentleness that brought fresh tears to my eyes.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I’m worthy of you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against mine. “Just… please, Y/N. Let me try.”

Before I could respond, his lips found mine. The kiss wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was soft, searching, like he was asking for permission with every brush of his lips. His hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer, and I let myself melt into him, my arms wrapping around his neck.

“I’ve missed this,” he whispered against my lips, his breath warm and tinged with desperation. “Missed the way you taste, the way you feel in my arms.”

“Dean,” I breathed, tilting my head back as his lips trailed down my jaw and neck. My body betrayed me, leaning into his touch, craving him despite everything.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “You’ve always been mine, Y/N. And I’ll never let you go again.”

I pulled back slightly, my hands on his chest. “You broke me once, Dean. If you do it again, I swear I won’t make it so easy for you…”

“I won’t,” he interrupted, his eyes fierce as he cupped my face. “I swear on everything, Y/N. There’s no one else. There never was. It was always you.”

The raw honesty in his voice shattered the last of my defenses. I kissed him again, harder this time, pouring all my pain, anger, and love into it. He groaned into my mouth, his hands tangling in my hair as he deepened the kiss.

For the first time in weeks, I felt whole. Dean might have broken me, but he was the only one who could put me back together. And as I let him pull me into his arms, I realized I wasn’t ready to give up on us—not yet.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞🤍

Ya’ll writing this one broke me 😭 but that’s the part of this challenge is to write out of my comfort zone. I’m always getting inspired by songs. Also I don’t picture Dean as someone who would EVER cheat but for the sake of this story I made him this way — don’t crucify me 🫣

ANYWAYS! I hope you enjoyed this one — I love you all!

Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

Like & follow for more !! Xoxo

Want to read more? Check out my other stories!

Master list 📝

Bingo Masterlist 💚

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@kr804573 / @deanscherrypie420 / @reignsboy19 / @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @riah1606 / @deanwinchestersgirl8734 / @thoughtfullyfurryangel / @10ava01 / @jackles010378 / @winchesterwild78 / @ladysparkles78 / @whimsyfinny / @deansimpalababy / @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

If you would like to be added on my Taglist for stories please send me a message or comment on this post

[narrynukezankielover]

This scene in Meta Fiction is amazing. They’re not even in the same city and yet they are having a moment. I find it funny though that Cas is talking to both Dean and Sam about the sign he found that’s attracting angels and then when Dean answers his question about the honour bar they start to have a private conversation and they both look soooo happy. Cas asks Dean how he is. Cas doesn’t know about Dean having the mark of Cain on his arm yet and he never once asked Sam how he is so he just wanted to talk to Dean alone. Sam is still sitting right there next to Dean and you can tell he’s thinking do you two realize I’m still here. Sam then talks to get the conversation back to the sign and you can see Dean is a bit annoyed.

I have no idea if this is the real Gabriel or not but at this point Cas thinks it is. Gabriel called Cas Deans boy toy and Cas just smiled and then rolled his eyes then when Cas asked about what Gabriel has seen he said you mean after it was raining winged men hallelujah? The song It’s Raining Men is a gay song so it sounds like Gabriel (if it’s really him) or Metatron (since in the episode he wrote this scene) is calling Cas gay. Thing is it’s hard to tell if Cas knows about the song or not. Knowing Cas he probably doesn’t so he probably didn’t pick up on that. Obviously all the angels know about Cas and Dean so it’s not a big thing for an angel to call Cas Deans boy toy or gay but usually he gets a bit shy when someone says something this time he didn’t which leads me to think maybe he talked to the real Gabriel about Dean. They are brothers and by the sounds of it Cas seems pretty comfortable around him. There were some funny scenes with them like Cas not paying attention in the store and Gabriel having to turn his head for him which I’ve read was unscripted because Misha wasn’t paying attention so Rich (I believe I got his name right) just moved his head for him. It would be nice to have him in more scenes with Cas and Dean because I have a feeling he’d be like Sam knowing about them and letting them have their moments but he’d probably come out and say I’m still in the room.

This is cute. Dean is worried to death about Cas since he hasn’t called or texted him and he put the GPS on Cas phone. I’m assuming after what happened when Cas was human and all the angels were trying to kill him and by the time Dean and Sam got to him he got killed that Dean decided that wasn’t going to happen again so he put the GPS on Cas phone so he could get to him before other angels could. It’s funny though that Sam is wondering what happened to Cas but he’s not worried and when Dean tells him to go find Cas Sam is like I don’t want to go.

Cas knew there was something different about Dean but he didn’t know what until Dean touched him. I’d like to know if Cas felt like a burning or something from the mark of Cain or if he just somehow knew because he just grabbed Deans arm and pulled up his sleeve.

I love this part in ep 22 because it shows how much Cas has changed. Finding out that angels are killing other angels because they think Cas told them to makes him feel sick. It just shows how different he is from other angels because the other angels probably wouldn’t care.

The next two scenes are a great example of Sam knows. Cas says that he would never make an angel die to kill another angel and he is hurt that Dean thinks that he would and that Dean brought up the time Cas thought he was god. Sam has to get Cas and Dean into another room away from the angels and tells Dean basically that that’s in the past and then when Cas and Sam are in the car together Sam has to calm Cas down telling him that it’s the mark making Dean act that way.

This scene proves that it’s the mark that made Dean say that stuff because here Dean tells the reaper that what she said about Cas doesn’t sound like the Cas he knows. Which means he knows Cas has done some bad stuff in the past (they all have) but he also knows that Cas has changed.

Don’t loose it over one man. She could mean the army but she could also mean falling in love. Dean doesn’t look scared at all. He knows Cas wouldn’t hurt him. Cas couldn’t kill Dean when he was being mind controlled and being told to kill Dean there’s no way in hell he’d be able to kill Dean when he’s himself. Cas doesn’t even think about it he grabs the sword and says he can’t.

This scene is interesting because they both already admitted to themselves that they love the other but here it’s like they know that the other loves them but they are choosing to ignore it because they are scared. Dean went from yelling at Sam, telling him that they aren’t a team that its a dictatorship and that he is in charge to literally two seconds later talking nice and sweet to Cas telling him that the three of them will fight Metatron and being worried about Cas stolen grace. Cas has very good hearing being an angel so he had to of heard Dean and Sams conversation and heard how different Dean talked to him as opposed to how he talked to Sam. Cas asked Dean if he really thought he told the angels to kill other angels and Dean said you just gave up an army for one man no I don’t think you did that. Clearly they know what’s going on. Lastly when Gadreel came in the room Dean almost ran to get between Cas and Gadreel. Cas is a strong angel even with stolen grace and yet Dean still wants to protect him. I have no idea how strong Gadreel is but I’m sure he’s stronger than a human.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Aftershock

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: minor angst

Summary: The after-effects of taking the Mark creep in slowly and you’re not sure if taking it on was the best thing for you. Dean once had it so you go to him in hopes he might have tips on how to manage the anger you know you’ll experience.

Past, Present, and Future Masterlist

Square Filled: "Did you forget who you're talking to?" (crossover bingo) for @fandombingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“What, in your head, told you that taking on something like the Mark of Cain was a good idea? Do you realize what could happen?”

“I know, Stephen, but Dean and Sam needed me. What was I supposed to do? Let them suffer?”

“No, you were supposed to use rational thought.”

“What do you want me to do now? You have magic. Take it off me.”

“It’s not that simple.” Stephen turns and curses under his breath. “Let me figure this out. This is exactly why I didn’t want you going off on your own.”

“I’m not a child, Stephen,” you glare.

“Your action proves otherwise.”

Stephen told you to stay close but there is one place you want to be at, and it’s nowhere near New York. He’s a smart man. He’ll find a way to get you out of this before something bad happens. The Mark is starting to mess with your head so you go to the one person who might understand how to make you feel better.

You don’t knock and sneak inside the same way you did when you first entered the Bunker. There is noise coming from the kitchen where Dean is, and his back is turned to you as he does the dishes. He doesn’t notice you standing there until he turns to grab two dirty dishes off the kitchen island.

“Shit!” he jumps. “What are you doing here? You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble and scratch your arm absentmindedly.

“Are you okay? Are we okay? Tell me we didn’t do anything bad.”

“No, everything is okay, still. How is Sam doing?”

“Okay. He doesn’t remember much from his time as a demon albeit it short. He thinks it’s from the stress. I don’t know.”

“That’s good,” you nod, distracted.

“Is everything okay?”

“I need you to be honest with me.” He doesn’t say anything but patiently waits for you to continue. “How was life with the Mark?”

“Honestly? A nightmare. I was angry all the time. I was lashing out at people, and I had the urge to kill anything in sight. The Mark is a curse. It wants you to feed it with power. It never stopped… itching.” Dean looks at your hand scratching the arm your mark is on. “Kind of like what you’re doing now.”

“I feel bad for what I did to you and Sam which is why I took this mark. Now… I’m trying really hard not to let it affect my powers.”

Dean dries his hands and leaves the remaining dirty dishes in the sink before grabbing your hand.

“Come on. I have something that might help you with that.” He takes you down to the shooting range where everything is stocked and ready to use. “Have you ever shot a gun?”

“I have a powerful infinity stone on my wrist. Does it look like I need to shoot a gun?”

“Don’t be rude,” he says. “It’s always a good skill to have and right now, you’re going to learn.”

Dean grabs one of the smaller guns and stands behind you. You’re about to turn to face him when he puts one of his warm hands on your waist. Something blossoms in your stomach like tiny little glitters floating around. He pulls you into his wait and those glitters explode into butterflies. What is this feeling? Why do I like it so much?

Dean wraps his arms around your body and puts the gun in your hands with his on top of yours. He positions you where he needs you and removes his hands from your own but keeps them on your body.

“Focus on the target ahead of you. Aim and follow through. When you’re ready, pull the trigger.”

You aim the gun at your target and much like what you do with your powers, you focus on your target alone. You pull the trigger and shoot the target right between the eyes.

“You’re a natural,” he grins.

He runs his hands down your arms to your waist and settles on your hips. Your breathing picks up slightly and it’s not from the anxiety you feel. You hate this—not Dean this—the Mark this. You were always calm and collected, and you never lost your cool because you knew you were so much higher than mere humans. Call that arrogance but you never had a reason to feel things like anxiety, anger, and lust.

Just another thing this damn mark did you.

You turn in Dean’s arms so you’re less than a foot away from his face. He glances down at your lips before looking into your eyes.

“I don’t think this will work. Do you have something else to try?”

“Yeah, follow me.”

He pauses for two seconds before moving away from you. You see the hesitation in his eyes and you’re not sure if it’s hesitation for you or what you two are about to do next.

He takes you upstairs to the library where his precious mini bar is. After six months in the Bunker, he bought a mini bar on wheels where he keeps his good alcohol. He rolls the bar over to one of the tables and sits down before putting his feet up. You sit across from him and he leisurely pours you two a drink.

“I read alcohol isn’t the best when you have bottled up emotions on the internet.”

“Don’t listen to everything you read online.” He slides you a half-poured whiskey drink without ice. “Sip, don’t chug.” You grab the glass and take a small sip not expecting it to taste like shit. “Yeah, it’s an acquired taste.”

“Oh, God,” you cough.

“Never had alcohol before, huh?”

“I may have been born before time but I’m fairly young. Stephen only made me a person a few years ago.” Dean takes a big sip of his drink and sighs. “So, the Mark was a nightmare?”

“For me, yeah, but you’re not human. You’ll have a different experience than me. If anyone can do it and still stay good, it’s you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“No, I don’t, but we never had powers that are older than time.”

You take another sip of your drink and scrunch your face up in disgust.

“I’m scared I’m going to hurt people. It was my choice to take but I shouldn’t have done what I did to you and Sam. Before coming to your world, all I saw was a solution to your problem. Put God and Amara away. I did that. I just didn’t think of the consequence it would leave behind.”

“You’ll fight this, Y/N, better than I ever did.”

You tap your fingers on the table rapidly because of your anxiety.

“Do you ever feel like you want to do the right thing and when you do it, it feels like the most wrong thing ever?”

 “Did you forget who you’re talking to?” Dean chuckles. “I didn’t want Sam going through what I went through.”

“I get it,” you nod.

“You are not Sam or me. You’re not going to go through it the same way.”

“I hope not,” you smile sadly. “No offense but this alcohol is making me depressed. Got anything else?”

Dean just smirks. He doesn’t tell you where you’re going, only that you’re going to love it. He takes you to a run-down building in an empty shopping area. It’s nearly closing time but he must have asked the wiener to stay open later just for him.

“Dean, what is this place?”

“A place to channel the rage.” 

After checking in with the owner, he takes you to the back room which is covered with graffiti, spray paint, and broken items everywhere. Dean grabs two baseball bats from the back and tosses one to you.

“What do I do now?”

“Be like the Hulk. Smash absolutely everything.”

Dean takes the first swing at a broken TV and you jump back from the sound. It takes you two seconds before you're swinging your own bat around. Dean jumps back so he doesn’t get hit but he watches you smash things with a smile on his face. You slam the bat into a ceramic vase, and it shatters into a million little pieces.

This is actually kind of fun.

“Check this out!”

You aim your hand at the TV Dean hit and blast it with your powers. You leave a gaping hole in the middle of the TV, and Dean looks at you with a nervous chuckle.

“Why don’t we stick to the bats? I don’t think they’ll appreciate you blowing this place up.”

“Oops,” you giggle.

You and Dean take the entire hour just smashing everything to pieces until there is nothing left to break. You two leave the place with big smiles on your faces despite you still feeling the nagging sensation of the Mark. What Dean did for you helped but now that it’s over, the darkness creeps in slowly.

Dean looks over and sees the look on your face. It’s a look he knows all too well. He opens the passenger door for you but doesn’t let you in the car yet.

“You know what else helps?”

“What?”

“A nice long drive with the windows down. There’s nothing like the open road, rock music, and the wind in your hair.”

“Okay, lead the way, Winchester,” you grin.

You two pile into the car and Dean takes off toward the back roads. The drive back to the Bunker only takes twenty minutes to get from the rage room but the back roads make the journey stretch to nearly an hour. Dean puts on soft rock and allows that to be the only thing to comfort you two in the car.

The windows are down and your hair is blowing gently, and a wave of calmness washes over you. You don’t think it’s the drive or the music but Dean. Being in Dean’s company is the one thing that’s working for you. You look at him to see him with a smile on his face and singing along to the music. He barely looks at you and does a doubletake when he sees you looking at him.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just… I think I’m going to be okay.”

Dean reaches over and grabs your hand.

“Yeah, I think you will, too.”

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[neeksparksg]

Demonly Advice

The bar was old, and far away from anything the kind of place where no one asked questions. Y/N Winchester sat at the far end of the counter, A glass of cheap whiskey in her hand. The amber liquid swirled in her glass as she stared at it, deep in thought. Her brothers were back at the bunker, resting after the long day they had, She should’ve been there, too. But the truth was, she needed to breathe—or maybe drown.

The Mark of Cain was making her worry, Dean was… different. It was hard to tell but. She could see the change in his eyes, the subtle shift in his smirks. How he seemed more Violent than before, maybe it was all on her mind, but the tough that she might be right terrified her in a way few things did. And yet, she couldn’t talk to Sam about it. No she knew her little brother too well, if she told him about it he would obsess over it, and she didn't want him to be worried

The bar was nearly empty, just a couple of regulars and the bartender wiping down glasses. She tipped her drink back and swallowed it, relishing the burn.

“Is this what the great Winchester do on her free time? Brooding over booze in a hole like this?”

Y/N froze at the familiar voice before slowly turning her head. There he was, Crowley, in his usual tailored suit, leaning casually against the bar as if he owned the place.

“What do you want, Crowley?” she asked.

“Charming as ever, darling.” He signaled to the bartender. “Scotch, neat. And make it your best.” The bartender raised an eyebrow but complied. Crowley turned back to Y/N, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Now, don’t look at me like that. I’m here on business.”

She snorted, swirling her glass. “You say that. And yet somehow, the only thing you are doing here is annoying the hell out of me.”

He chuckled, lifting his drink as it was placed before him. “you say it as if it's a hard thing to do, you Winchesters all have a short fuse”

Y/N rolled her eyes and went back to her whiskey. She didn’t want company, least of all Crowley’s. But as much as she hated to admit it, his presence wasn’t entirely unwelcome. There was something oddly….. Amusing about the demon’s snarky, unapologetic demeanor.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “you’re not exactly radiating sunshine tonight. Trouble in paradise?”

She shot him a glare. “Since when do you care?”

“I don’t,” he replied smoothly, taking a sip of his scotch. “But you’re usually the one winchister that isn't always brooding. And now here you are, drinking alone, looking like you’ve lost a fight with your conscience. It’s… unusual.”

Y/N stiffened but didn’t respond. She wasn’t about to spill her guts to Crowley of all people.

He studied her, his smirk fading slightly. “Ah, it’s about Squirrel, isn’t it?”

Her head snapped toward him, her eyes flashing. “Don’t.”

Crowley raised his hands in mock surrender. “Touchy. But come now, love, you can’t expect me not to notice. The Mark is doing its thing, and you’re worried he’s not… Dean anymore. Am I close?”

Y/N’s grip tightened on her glass, but she didn’t deny it.

Crowley sighed, leaning forward. “Look, I’m no fan of heart-to-hearts, but you lot are my best chance at getting rid of Abaddon. And if you’re falling apart—well, that’s bad for business. So, let me give you some free advice.”

She scoffed. “You, giving advice? This should be good.”

“I’m serious, pet,” he said. “Dean’s strong. Stubborn as hell, too. If anyone can handle the Mark, it’s him. But he’s going to need you and Moose to keep him grounded. Don’t let him push you away"

Y/N stared at him, her expression serious. “Why are you trying to help?”

Crowley smirked again, but there was something softer in his eyes. “Because if Dean goes dark-side, after he's done with Abaddon he's coming after me. And believe it I don't want to deal with that mess” She studied him for a long moment, searching for the catch. But for once, he seemed genuine. It was unsettling.

“Thanks for the pep talk,” she said dryly, finishing her drink.

“Anytime, darling,” he replied with a wink, raising his glass. “Try not to drown in self-pity, hmm? It’s not your color.”

She rolled her eyes but she knew that Crowley had a point. Dean needed them, and she won't leave him alone. As she stood to leave, Crowley’s voice stopped her.

“One more thing, Y/N.” She turned, her eyebrow raised.

“When this is all over—Abaddon, the Mark, everything—remember who was there when you needed a drink and some perspective.”

She shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t push your luck.”

With that, she walked out into the night, Crowley watched her go, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Winchesters,” he muttered, finishing his drink.

[saltbind]

Which SPN character's crimes are you the #1 defender of to the end of time?

oh man. hm. i have thoughts about this.

like, supernatural is in and of itself a story about these real human beings and people stuck in a narrative they want no part of. living trapped by an illusion of free will that is as ephemeral as most of the spirits they face. they don’t even really start to be able to consistently make their own decisions til after chuck’s defeat. so can they even really be considered liable for their actions prior to that given their whole lives are a playset for an alcoholic deadbeat dad? from that viewpoint pretty much all the characters are equally defendable.

and if you’re going with Classic SPN only, then all those choices are understandable in the context of their incredibly fucked up lives - even if there were better choices to be made. some of them were bad choices - my kingdom for some communication - but they were understandable. i get the characters points of view even if i want to slap em upside the head.

but in terms of like ‘baby did nothing wrong’ i don’t really go in for that so much. i love sam but he fucks up a lot and that’s part of why i love him. i love dean too - but he ALSO fucks up a lot. and that makes them interesting, it makes them human, it makes their commitment to each other and to the world at large more relatable. part of why i love samdean so much is that endless capacity for forgiveness they have for each other.

i’m a character defender as long as their actions are in character basically. there’s no one character i’d do it for - if it makes sense i’m down to defend it. but a lot of SPN characters make choices that aren’t in line with who they are and that i won’t defend because its shitty writing. still, not the characters fault.

like, a lot of what people have an issue with in terms of character specific choices on the show are things that make No Sense for the character. but it’s treated like that’s a choice the character had agency over. they’re fictional.

sam not looking for dean in s8? that was a writers fuckup.

the whole gadreel/mark of cain thing? could have been a good plot if it had been handled with more care. more upsetting because it’s almost in character - but not quite.

so yeah i guess i’m an every character defender. except john but we all know i have personal trauma reasons for that.

[dragonmasterkaylz]

Let’s Talk about Metatron!!!

Well… um—

“Why are you talking about me behind my back?!”

…

…..

No!!! I know I’m talking about YOU!!! Deanmon, I choose you!!!

Anyway… I’m talking about Metatron from Good Omens. Now, if watching Supernatural has taught me ANYTHING… it’s that Angels are just as bad as Demons! They love meddling, creating wars, need I go on?! And in Good Omens, I don’t see much of a difference, especially in season two. Granted, Gabriel doesn’t have his memories so he’s just a shell of the Angel he used to be. Aziraphale’s job is to make sure that the human race is okay and that nothing bad is happening. The same is said for Crowley, but his job is to meddle in human affairs and to make them succumb to their own temptations. … Right…?

“Pretty much sweetheart”.

NO!!! NOT YOU— but you can stay. I like you~!

ANYWAY… the sudden appearance of Metatron in the sixth episode of season two made me feel very uneasy. Now, let’s just move onto Supernatural for a second. Metatron is the Scribe of God and he has a very important role— sorry… had a very important role. Eventually, he wants to control Heaven since Chuck isn’t around and causes the Angels to Fall, killing some of them in the process. He strips poor Castiel of his grace, turning him into a regular human being. In a desperate attempt to save his brothers life, Dean asks one of these Angels to take over Sam and heal him from this inside. This Angel is called Ezekiel… but then later turns out to be Gadreel, an Angel that follows Metatron. When Castiel comes back to the Bunker, after being found by Dean, he is immediately told to leave as his presence alone is making Gadreel very paranoid. And so, the two are separated, yet again! Later down the line, Metatron kills Dean, which turns him into a Demon because of the Mark of Cain. He tells Castiel this and the poor Angel is left… heartbroken, even though Metatron is no longer in charge of Heaven and Castiel is.

Now, to the sudden appearance of Metatron in Good Omens. He seems like a good guy and he probably just wanted to give Aziraphale the offer of an Angels Eternal Life! We don’t know his true motives yet, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. But when our beloved Angel asked him what he was tasked with, his face dropped. The ‘Second Coming’ is basically when Jesus Christ returns to Earth. And from how Aziraphale acted, it’s either not a good thing or it’s just a very difficult task for him to carry out. Maybe he thinks there’s just too much weight on him and that’s why he looked very uncomfortable as soon as Metatron told him what it was. However, something seems very calculating about this new Metatron….

He told Aziraphale that he could ask Crowley to join him and that he has the power to turn him back into an Angel. He asked Aziraphale to do this, instead of asking the Demon himself, which he could’ve done! But he didn’t. Which brings to me to think that he could’ve known that Crowley wouldn’t have agreed to it… because when Aziraphale told him the news, Metatron did seem to know that Crowley was more of a lone wolf. Did he purposely make Aziraphale ask him so the two would argue and part ways on a bad note? Did he want Aziraphale and Crowley to part ways so Heaven and Hell would officially have no connection to one another? Because with Gabriel and Beelzebub gone, they only had one couple tying them together. Crowley and Aziraphale. Hell was very much convinced that Crowley was only using him to get information out of him, that’s why I’m suggesting this. Did he want to sever that forever, so that a war between the two factions could happen? Because if the two are no longer partners and with Crowley on his own, no one can object. So here’s my question:

I think the only way we’ll know the answer to this question is by waiting for season three to come out, and watching it. Personally, I cannot live with that ending!!! It’s almost as bad as when Castiel told Dean that he loved him and then was taken by the Empty!!!

“Kayleigh… please stop reminding me…!”

DEAN!!! I’M SORRY FOR BRINGING IT UP AGAIN!!!

Why am I bringing Supernatural into this, you ask? Well, because I can! Also, because my silliness knows absolutely no bounds. Hehe~! 😋

You can agree with me or disagree with me. But I haven’t trusted a single Angel in Good Omens, apart from our hot chocolate loving Aziraphale. Please let me know if I was wrong on any of the points I’ve made by the way and if I am, I’m so sorry.

End of Kayleigh’s Rant

[antigonewinchester]

15x08 Nice that the writers rectonned the Cage/Hell time so Adam & Michael were only there for 10 years. Makes Sam and Dean a little less terrible.

DEAN: Adam, I want you to know we are sorry. What happened to you… You're a good man. You didn't deserve that. ADAM: Since when do we get what we deserve? Good luck.

Again, foreshadowing for the ending, Rowena stopping demon deals so people end up “where they belong,” Dean (and Sam) getting the Heaven they “deserve,” and all that.

15x09 Another ep I’ve seen and don’t particularly like :) Again, it’s Berens’s characterization of Dean and how he resolves the emotional conflicts, blurgh.

I’ve mentioned before how similar Dean’s speech about being angry in this ep is like Sam’s speech about being angry in 5x11, esp how in an earlier draft of 15x09, the writing had Dean talk about blaming people unfairly, even more similarly to 5x11. And I just don’t buy Berens’s characterization of Dean as “always” angry, because Dean hasn’t always been angry in the way he gets characterized as in later seasons. Dean talking about how he “[gets] so angry” and “can’t stop it” sounds directly like something that could’ve been said during the Mark of Cain arc, you know? And Berens (plus other writers) then kept that characterization of Dean thru the rest of the show, and it’s just... frustrating. No character development for Dean, he gets to be the angry resentful guy with or without taking on the evil murder curse.

CAS: Well, this place will bring that out in you. Guilt. It was my fault the Leviathan got out. It was my fault we were here the first time. I carry that guilt every day. DEAN: I know you're sorry, Cas. About Bel, about Mom. CAS: I was talking about Jack. I already apologized to you. You just refused to hear it. DEAN: Sorry I brought it up. Maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. CAS: You didn't give me a choice. You couldn't forgive me. And you couldn't move on. You were too angry. I left, but you didn't stop me. ... DEAN: No, no, no. [Dean looks around and then speaks quietly in prayer] Cas? Cas, I hope you can hear me... that wherever you are, it's not too late. I should've stopped you. You're my best friend, but I just let you go. 'Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong. [Dean breaks down, sniffles, and then kneels at the base of the tree] I – Ohh. I don't know why I get so angry. I just know – I know that it's – i-it's just always been there. And when things go bad, it just – it comes out. And I can't -- I can't stop it. No matter how – [Sniffles] how bad I want to, I just can't stop it. And – And I – I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. I'm sorry it took me so long – [Sniffles] I'm sorry it took me till now to say it. Cas, I'm – I'm so sorry. Man, I hope you can hear me. I hope you can hear me. [Sniffling] Okay.

It feels like Berens’s treats Dean’s resentments as significant because it unfairly hurts whomever he’s mad at, so the right thing for Dean to do is to let go of his hurt feelings to make everything better, for the sake of his relationships, for the sake of other people... This framing almost paints Dean’s anger as something he’s doing punish or hurt Cas, instead of Dean himself feeling hurt and not wanting to be around him. It’s a striking similar (and dysfunctional) notion to Bobby’s speech from 4x22 about how family is supposed to hurt, so get over it already. Cas feels guilty, and he apologized, so Dean should forgive him and he’s a dick for not doing so. But Cas could have stayed with Dean even if Dean didn’t forgive him. I think Cas leaving was the right call, but Dean didn’t make him leave, Cas chose to do that, and so him framing it as Dean being too angry/unforgiving/giving him the cold shoulder is shifting the responsibility/agency for Cas’s choices onto Dean. (Thinking of fandom, it’s kind of funny for Cas to criticize Dean for not stopping him leaving, because you know people would call Dean a controlling asshole if he had tried to stop Cas from leaving at the end of 15x03! And I’ve already seen people call Dean a controlling jerk for how he actually acts at the end of ep.)

There’s also how Dean’s speech here really sucks because it raises some major red flags - somebody talking about being angry and not being able to “stop it” or not being control of their anger is… not a good sign. Again, I don’t think Berens intended it to be read as harshly as you could read it, but I can see how/why someone could interpret it that way, even if I don’t myself.

On another note, we’ve again got vampires connected to a monstrous family, in the bad ending having Sam & Dean “giving up” on being heroes and becoming killer vampires. The metaphysics of how the writers think about the world becomes clearer, too. The solution isn’t to lock away (or kill) God, but to replace him with someone better, who ends up being Jack. It ends up very, the King is dead, long live the King. I do think people want the show to be a much more revolutionary text that it was ever going to be, and so people wish the ending had gone further, but... the show was never going to fully upend the system. Wasn’t cool enough for that, unfortunately. So Sam and Dean (and Jack) do end up ‘defeating’ Chuck, but I don’t think the show was ever going to end in a world without God or without a Heaven, not at this point.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 223

The Executioner’s Song

“The Executioner’s Song”

Plot Description: Cain’s return leaves Sam, Dean, and Castiel scrambling. But when Crowley agrees to help them, he finds himself in an awkward position

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: as someone not currently on death row, I’m pretty sure I’m safe.

Omg. You can SO tell that Timothy was also in the midst of playing King Richard on Galavant during this time

Cain when we first meet him/Cain now/King Richard

I didn’t expect to have one of my hobbies validated by Dean Winchester today AS I’m both cross stitching AND watching spn, but I also wouldn’t have imagined he’d be a Taylor Swift fan…and that happened too. Anyway, I’m glad he was on the correct side of the whole true crime phenomenon “bass fishing, needle point, that’s a hobby. Collecting serial killer stats is an illness”

Oooooooo Dean recognizes Cain, and Sam can see the effect that has on Dean

It’s nice to see Cas back, even if he’s torturing and killing demons

The SHAAAAAAAAADE, Rowena. The way she’s completely undermining Crowley. I love her more every day

Oh shit, son. That massive grave site of Cain’s victims Cas is standing in the middle of. Holy shit, dude. “This is a massacre” “yes, and soon it’ll be a genocide.” He’s looking to LITERALLY decimate the human race by getting rid of every single one of his descendants

Rowena makes me just A LITTLE BIT regret chopping my hair and letting the color begin to grow out

Ooooo Dean’s gonna try to kill Cain. This is getting goooooood

Godddddddddddddddd it’s so rare that Dean admits he’s scared, ESPECIALLY for himself. He’s fine with going down swinging, but he didn’t think it would be so soon

Oh this poor kid they’re using as bait for Cain

Cas’s powers don’t work AT ALL against Cain??

The boys didn’t see how bad Castiel got the first time he started losing stolen grace

The worried looks everyone is giving Dean. I KNOW those four make it past this episode but I’m still at the edge of my seat (metaphorically. I’m actually laying in bed)

I’m enjoying this standoff between Dean and Cain just a little too much

Yeah, babes, you think you can summon the blade to you using the force when CAIN is there trying to do the same? Nah…

If there’s one thing about a Timothy Omundson character I’ve invested in, it’s that he’s going to have a very specific blade that belongs only to him

Cain literally kicking Dean around and basically going “you are GOING to feel the Cain Instinct, like they talk about on tumblr”

When at first you tried to disarm Cain, I didn’t think you meant like THAT

And now Dean begging Cain to know that this can be stopped. Cain’s so unrepentant, I love it

Oh, what a beautiful gesture, instead of giving the blade back to Crowley, Dean hands it to Cas

And with two betrayals in one day by his former bestie, Crowley’s not going to take this lightly…

Here’s the thing. Rowena’s manipulation of Crowley up til now has been VERY obvious…but now? I truly believe her when she says that he’s squandering his kingly powers, that he’s the Winchesters’ bitch…because there’s probably SOME truth in her feelings behind what she’s saying and Crowley is DEFINITELY feeling this way

Here’s the other thing…Dean’s now the primary holder, possibly the ONLY holder of the Mark of Cain. It might as well be the Mark of Dean, now. Sam knows he’s in trouble

[avanatural]

The Hookup Henley

Summary: Dean is struggling with the Mark of Cain. Y/N, his best friend, wants to make him feel better. Will she succeed? What happens when the mark takes over?

Pairing: Dean x female Reader

Category: Angst, smut, fluff, 18+

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, explicit sexual content, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, both protected and unprotected sex (Wrap it up!), MoC!Dean

Prompts: 

“I’m too old for this shit.”

Night club

Dean’s green Henley

Square filled: Friends with benefits @spnmixedbingo 

A/N: This story contains smut! Do not read if you are under the age of 18! I wrote this fic for @libre1rose8 300 Follower Celebration! Congratulations again, my friend! 💕 You deserve every single follower and so many more! 😘 I hope you enjoy my contribution to your challenge (that totally took on a life of its own) 💗 Dividers by the talented @talesmaniac89 😊

Dean Winchester Masterlist

SPN Mixed Bingo 2021 Masterlist 

Main Masterlist

“Come on, Dean, just try it! For me. Please?”

Dean tossed his head back, sighing in exasperation. “I’m too old for this shit.”

Y/N walked into his bedroom, coming to a halt in front of him. The older Winchester brother was sitting on the floor, leaning back against his bed, a stack of books and papers settled in his lap. Y/N placed her hands on her hips, gazing down at him with her tongue stuck between her teeth.

Dean was constantly doing research these days. Holing up in his room. Trying to find a way to get rid of the mark on his arm, or at least to relieve the terrible side effects that it came with. His mossy green eyes had lost their light. The fun-loving, Impala-driving, pie-eating, lady-charming Dean was gone. It pained Y/N to see him like that.

“You’re never too old to have a good time,” she argued, finally getting him to look up, to look her in the eye. And boy, did he look tired. “I miss my best friend,” she added.

Dean’s jaw clenched, a tiny spark of guilt flashing through his eyes. He was neglecting his relationships with the people closest to him, he knew that. But the mark was driving him insane. Slowly pushing him over the edge he’d been dancing on for ages. “Y/N, just let it go, okay? I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, holding his gaze with determination. “Because I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen you smile in weeks.” She missed his smile so bad. The way his pearly white teeth would show. The way his plump lips would curl upward. The faint dimples that would appear on his cheeks.

Dean’s jaw clenched yet again. His mesmerizing, angry eyes glared up at her. “What, and dragging me to the club, of all places, is gonna change that?”, he snapped.

Y/N wasn’t fazed by his attitude. She knew that beneath all the rage and hostility, he was suffering. And no matter how angry he was, she was never going to be afraid of him. “There’s nothing that music, booze, and attractive people can’t let you forget about. At least for a little while.” She bent down and grabbed his hand, pulling on it in an attempt to make him get up.

With a small grunt, Dean complied. Carelessly, he brushed the papers off of his lap and pushed himself up on his feet. Y/N took his other hand as well and started pulling him toward his dresser. With an exaggerated eye roll, Dean trudged along.

“Are you really gonna make me go?”, he sulked, his forehead puckering with annoyance.

“It’ll be fun,” she insisted, wriggling her eyebrows at him, “We’ll find that Hookup Henley of yours, go to the club, get wasted, and look for a beautiful woman for you to go home with.”

Dean scoffed. The Hookup Henley – the green Henley that he tended to wear whenever him and Y/N went looking for hookups. Honestly, he didn’t even believe that this particular shirt was the main ingredient for his success with women.

No. It was Y/N. The huntress was the key to his conquests. She was the perfect wingman. Well, wingwoman. With her smile, she could draw in any woman that Dean fancied. And when Y/N used her sweet voice to introduce him to his chosen ones, the deal was sealed within a matter of seconds.

“I hate you,” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled the green Henley from his drawer.

“You love me,” she corrected, grinning at him, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

A nostalgic smile spread across Y/N’s mouth. It had been way too long since she’d felt the beat of vibrating music in her chest. The night club was packed with people who were dancing, drinking, laughing, chatting. She’d only just entered, but she was already having a good time.

Dean, on the other hand, didn’t like it nearly half as much. The lights were flashing too bright. The music was too upbeat. The people were too happy. He scowled bitterly as he followed his friend through the crowd.

“Come on! This is gonna be great!”, she yelled over the music, taking a hold of his hand. With a bounce in her step, she yanked Dean to the bar.

He rolled his eyes, but to his own dismay, he was unable to stop the teeny-tiny smile that suddenly laced his lips. Who was he kidding? Y/N’s enthusiasm never failed to tug on his heart strings. He watched her closely as she ordered their first drinks for the night, talking animatedly to the bartender.

Dean had no clue why Y/N hadn’t left him behind already. Why she hadn’t cut ties with him, especially now that he had the Mark of Cain. But then again, she’d never left him behind before. And deep down, he hoped she never would.

“Alright, big boy, drink up!”, she yelled over the music and handed him a shot, her black nail polish sparkling in the strobe lights.

Dean scowled, trying to hide the fact that he was actually grateful for the alcohol that was going to enter his system. Alcohol meant ease. Ease was good. Now that he had the mark, he was incapable of relaxing. He was constantly on guard, constantly trying to control his temper, constantly thinking about violence.

They both knocked back their drink, wincing as the alcohol streamed down their throats with a comforting burn.

“And now…” Y/N smacked her lips together, tasting the remaining sheen of booze. “Step two.”

Dean lifted his eyebrows and looked down at her with fearful anticipation. “Step two?”

“Let’s go dance!”, she exclaimed, just loud enough to be heard despite the booming music.

“No, no, no,” Dean blurted, shaking his head. He could feel the walls around him come up even higher. “I’m not nearly drunk enough for that.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “Alright, then… Another round of shots, it is. I will make you feel better tonight, Dean. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

"Come on! Give me at least one dance, Winchester,” Y/N mumbled, holding up one finger with a tipsy chuckle. She couldn’t tell anymore how many drinks they’d had. Not that it mattered.

"Alright, alright. One dance. Come 'ere." With two clumsy hands, he took her by the waist and pulled her close to his body. The ease had slowly but surely started to kick in after their last round of shots. "Damn, you're annoying today," he continued with a little amused smile on his face. He hadn’t smiled in so long that it made his cheeks feel strange.

Y/N laughed freely and snaked her arms around his neck, crossing them around the back. She leaned up to speak right into his ear. Between her and Dean, physical boundaries had never mattered much. "I'm just what you need."

Something about the tone in her voice sent a shiver down Dean's spine. He couldn't identify that shiver, and it bothered the hell out of him. People didn't always associate that quality with him, but Dean was very self-aware. Even drunk, he was aware of his thought patterns and physical reactions. But the shiver that Y/N made him feel… It was foreign to him. He hated foreign feelings, foreign sensations. He hated that the sensation felt so good. She was his friend, for God’s sake.

Y/N started to sway from side to side, using her arms to softly ease Dean into her rhythm.

He obliged and circled his arms around her middle, his hands landing on her lower back. Part of him felt stupid, swaying left and right in the middle of a crowd. He felt like a drunken fool. But he also felt good. For the first time in a long time. Which only made him more frustrated. He shouldn't get to feel good. Not now, not with the mark on his arm. Not after the things he'd done.

"You're overthinking," Y/N stated, looking Dean straight in the eye. Looking right through him, as usual.

And suddenly, it dawned on him. Why he'd been holing up in his room. Why he’d been hiding from his friend. He’d known that she was going to make him feel better. Make him feel hopeful. He didn’t deserve hope. He didn’t deserve her.

"It's kinda hard not to nowadays,” he blurted. He averted his eyes and focused on the rhythm of the music. Maybe going to the club hadn’t been such a terrible idea after all. There were lots of stimuli to focus on. To distract him. To get lost in.

“I know. But guess what?” Y/N lowered her head to catch Dean’s eye again. “You got this,” she reassured him with a nod of her head, “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Dean felt her fingers on the back of his neck, her fingertips gently grazing the exposed skin. On instinct, his hands went to her hips. He could feel their shape, feel Y/N’s fluid movements against his palms. She’d forced him to dance with her before, but it was different this time. Back then, their dances had been silly and dumb. This dance felt strangely… close. Sensual.

Just as Dean was about to reply, she added, “And one of the worst dancers.”

His eyes widened, an expression of feigned hurt popping up on his face. “Oh, shut up. You better get us another round of shots before I blow this joint.”

Y/N chuckled, the skin around her Y/E/C eyes wrinkling. She knew him well enough to know that the night club had awoken his interest by now. “Alright, one final round of shots before we find our hookups for the night?”

Dean nodded his head more eagerly than he intended.

The smile that Y/N responded with shone brighter than all the strobe lights combined.

“What about that one?”, she inquired, lazily nodding at a pretty brunette who was waiting to receive her drink at the bar. Y/N’s hips were moving from side to side, her back pressed against Dean’s solid chest. She ground herself against him, feeling his strong hands tighten around her hips. Yes, physical boundaries were nonexistent at this point.

“Nah.” Dean bent down over her shoulder, inching a little too close, to speak into her ear. “She’s here with a guy. I want it quick and easy tonight,” he mumbled as his scruffy cheek pressed against her smooth one. If anyone had told him that he was going to dance with Y/N in the middle of the dance floor of a night club, grinding against her body, he would never have believed it.

Y/N couldn’t deny the hot tingling sensation that rolled up and down her spine at Dean’s closeness, at the sound of his deep voice in her ear, at the smell of his cologne. “Who’s she with?”, she asked casually, feeling the hair at the back of her neck stand up.

Dean tightened his arms around her waist from behind and shifted on his feet, turning Y/N into the direction of a tall, dark-haired man. He held her closer than he needed to, but her body just felt like it was made for his greedy embrace. “With Pretty Boy over there.”

“Too bad,” Y/N sighed, laying her head back against Dean’s shoulder with a small pout. “He’s cute.”

“Please,” Dean scoffed. His hips automatically pushed forward as he felt Y/N’s ass move against his front. He could feel his pants get tight and suppressed the moan that threatened to leave his lips. “You can do better.”  

She smiled to herself and twirled around in Dean’s embrace, feeling woozy as she did so. As she came face to face with him, she wrapped her arms around his neck again. Pulling him down, she erased what little distance remained between them. “Nice moves, Winchester. I guess you’re a dancer after all,” she teased.

His hands reclaimed their place on her hips, his fingers dancing on the threshold to her ass. What wouldn’t he give to test the waters and let them slide down further? The dip of her lower back was tempting him to try it out. To touch her curves. They were playing a game of cat and mouse, and it excited him. Only, he wasn’t sure who was the cat and who was the mouse in this scenario.

“Those aren’t my only moves, Sweetheart.” He could feel the alcohol pulsating through his veins, clouding his mind. Y/N was gorgeous. How had he never noticed that? His eyes lingered on her face, mesmerized by the sheer beauty he found there. Her eyes were shining blue, green, yellow, red, perfectly reflecting each of the club’s flashing lights.

She arched an eyebrow, her lips morphing into a sultry smile. “Oh, yeah? Sounds like one of the ladies here is gonna get very lucky tonight.”

Alright, Y/N was definitely the cat. Every bone in Dean’s body screamed at him not to be the mouse, but the way she looked at him – like she was going to jump him any second – it made his knees weak. Before he could so much as think of a flirty remark, Y/N caught sight of a handsome man on the dance floor.

“Hey, look at that guy.” Chewing on her lower lip, she didn’t realize how enchanted Dean was by her beauty, how his eyes didn’t leave her face. “I think he might be tonight’s choice,” she added.

With hooded eyes, Dean tore his gaze away from Y/N and looked to the side. He had to admit the other guy was her type. Damn it, had he read her signs wrong? “Yeah… Why not?”, he replied, his voice sounding even and calm. But on the inside, he wasn’t feeling calm at all. He certainly didn’t want to feel that way, but there was a heavy stone sinking from his chest down to his stomach. In some strange way, despite his hate for clubs and dancing, he wanted to stay with Y/N. He wanted for Y/N to stay with him.

She dragged her bottom lip out between her teeth, missing the way Dean’s eyes lingered on her mouth. “I’m gonna go over there,” she declared and let go of his neck. She ruffled her Y/H/C hair, pushing it up with her hands. “How do I look?”

Begrudgingly, Dean let go of her, leaving his hands to hang awkwardly by his sides as Y/N cut the invisible tie between them. He cleared his throat and touched his Adam’s apple with his fingers. “You look good.”

“What about you?” Y/N smiled up at him, almost taking his breath away. “Who’re you gonna chat up?”

“Oh, I, uh…” He scratched the back of his head with his blunt fingernails. The mark on his arm started to pulsate, which he ignored to the best of his ability. Not now, he mentally scolded the mark. “I’ve had my eye on that blonde over there.” Weakly, he pointed at a beautiful blonde woman who was dancing with a friend.

“Good choice.” Y/N tilted her head and pursed her lips in approval. “You need any help?”

“Nah. Not tonight. I’m good.”

“Alright. Good luck.” Y/N found his hand and squeezed it, just as she always did before they parted ways. It was her own special way of saying ‘See you later.’

Slowly, her fingers slipped through his, their touch getting lost in their intentions to find someone else.

A million thoughts shot through Dean’s head as he watched her push through the crowd. On her way to another guy. When Y/N suddenly looked over her shoulder, meeting Dean’s eyes once more, he knew. He could tell by the way the Mark of Cain was itching and burning at the same time. It was yearning for her.

Dean wanted her.

Y/N’s back slid up and down the wall of the bathroom, over and over again. The man’s hands harshly gripped the flesh of her thighs, keeping them wrapped around his waist. Her dress was bunched up around her hips. His jeans were pushed down his legs as his length pounded into her.

She moved her hips to meet his thrusts and threw her head back. His lips instantly attached themselves to her neck, placing open-mouthed kisses to her skin. When he sucked on her favorite spot, she felt herself fall apart around him. Her body quivered nonstop while she came.

As she panted with pleasure, her hands curled around his shirt – the very same shirt that was supposed to help him sleep with someone else. But here she was, having sex with her best friend in a dirty public bathroom.

In his drunken state, Dean had gone after Y/N. He’d pushed through the crowd, crossing the dance floor until he’d caught up with her. His fingers had curled around her wrist. His hand had turned her around. His lips had landed on hers, effectively keeping her from hooking up with that other guy. Everything had happened so fast. And now, here they were, screwing each other’s brains out.

Y/N moaned, Dean’s name sitting on the tip of her tongue, ready to slip out. But she bit her lip, willing her mouth not to say his name. There was something so wrong, so naughty, about this. The forbidden fruit. The line that should never be crossed between friends. It was glorious.

Meanwhile, Dean grunted into Y/N’s ear, forcing himself not to groan her name. The way her pussy clenched around him felt incredible. Too good to be true. It was so wrong to have sex with his best friend, his wingwoman, in the club’s bathroom. And still, he never wanted it to end. He wanted to remain buried inside of her until the end of time. His mark vibrated in perfect sync with his thrusts, the pain mingling with the pleasure. Something primitive and carnal took over his soul, making him push into Y/N even harder.

She gripped his shoulders tightly, her tipsy mind admiring his strength, his power. His lips and tongue felt so good against her neck. The swollen tip of his dick was buried so deep inside of her that she knew he was going to ruin her for any other man.

Dean was sweating, grunting, grinding. He poured everything he had into his thrusts, hoping for the ache in his forearm to be replaced by the soreness in his muscles. He gave Y/N all he had. If he did something so wrong, he might as well do it right.

As he felt his orgasm approaching, his head started to spin. The pain intensified across his forearm – and turned into the same pain that he felt whenever he killed something. Or someone.

It was a satisfying ache. Until it wasn’t.

As he emptied himself into the condom, Dean felt like the skin was being carved from his forearm. The mark was burning so bad that he squeezed his eyes shut and released a pained, dragged-out groan. He sounded like an animal, a monster, like a demon that was being exorcised.

Dean could hear a faint, sweet sound passing his eardrums. It took him a second to realize that the sound was Y/N’s concerned voice. When he lifted his head to meet her gaze, he was met with wide, Y/E/C orbs. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in their beautiful color, to feel like everything was going to be alright.

“Dean… Dean, what’s wrong?”, she repeated in between harsh breaths, her legs still locked around his waist. Her hands cupped his stubbled jaw as she tried to get a good look at his face.

He suddenly realized he was still pinning her to the wall, still sheathed inside her. He pushed air from his lungs, clearing his throat with a small noise. He pulled out of her and slowly let her down. As soon as Y/N’s feet hit the ground, he turned away from her, wiping his hands down his face. He leaned against the bathroom sink and pulled off the condom, his back facing her.

Y/N could see that he was struggling and felt herself sober up a little. She wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in a hug, to take away his suffering. But she had no idea whether he wanted her near him. He was like a wounded animal sometimes. He tended to lash out when he was in pain.

Dean gasped as he tossed the used condom into the trashcan next to the sink. His arm hurt like hell. He was feeling dizzy. With pain and shame thrumming through his bones, he pulled up his boxers and pants.

Y/N couldn’t rip her worried gaze away from him. She pushed her dress down to cover her legs and slowly approached Dean, her steps timid. He tensed visibly when her hand finally came into contact with his upper arm. “Dean, hey… What is it?”, she inquired quietly, fully prepared to be pushed away.

“The mark…,” he grunted, feeling the engorged skin pulsate violently as he stared down at it. He didn’t dare to look up. He couldn’t face Y/N.

“Let me see.” Her voice was soft and gentle as she reached out to touch the angry red mark. “Please.”

Dean bared his teeth, wincing when her fingertips brushed against the mark. But, against his expectations, the pain didn’t intensify.

Y/N’s fingers were cold. Her tender touch cooled down the burn. Dean’s eyelids became heavy with relief, prompting him to briefly shut his eyes. Within a matter of seconds, he went from a state of pure distress to a state of comfort.

“It’s okay,” Y/N whispered and started to run her thumb along the Mark of Cain, caressing it like it was something to be cherished. Something that wasn’t evil.

“Is it?” Dean opened his emerald eyes, a pained expression masking his face. He wasn’t looking for an honest answer. He wasn’t looking for a straight response. No, he was looking for reassurance. He knew Y/N would get that. She always knew what he needed.

“Yes. It is.” Honestly, she didn’t know what either of them were referring to. Was having the Mark of Cain okay? Were the two of them okay? She had no clue what they were talking about. All she knew was that, no matter what, she was going to remain by Dean’s side. “Now breathe with me.” Y/N inhaled deeply, raising her eyebrows in a silent demand for him to follow her lead.

He rolled his eyes, but held back his comment about shoving her self-help yoga crap, and complied. He breathed in deeply and slowly, just like her. And when Y/N released her breath, so did he. The pain in his arm was turning from sharp to dull, from threatening to bearable.

“Better?” Reluctantly, Y/N let go of his arm, letting her touch fade from his mark.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, mentally cursing himself for how fragile he sounded. He coughed in an awkward attempt to save face.

Y/N quickly realized that his moment of open vulnerability was over. She knew Dean well enough not to push it. She knew it was time to change the topic. With her cheeks still flushed from the sex they’d just had, she brushed some disheveled hair behind her ear. “We should do that again sometime,” she said in a lighthearted manner, thankful that she was still intoxicated enough to be bold. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and smiled as she waited for his response.

Dean eyed her with curiosity, even a little bit of awe. She was incredible. And hot, goddamn. When their eyes met, Y/N smiled the most stunning smile he’d ever seen. All of a sudden, their little incident didn’t seem so wrong anymore. The mark was quiet now.

Dean, too, bit his lower lip, contemplating his reply. Sleeping with his best friend was a risky game. A stupid idea. Destined to fail. Finally, he settled on a gruff, “You sure?”

She nodded her head. “Yeah, I mean… That was good, right?” As casually as she could, Y/N shrugged her shoulders, trying not to show the anxiety that was starting to overthrow her boldness. “Next time we need a relief, why not help each other?”

Once again, Dean felt a shiver run down his spine. His mind was yelling at him not to agree. But his emotions urged him to take his chance. “Yeah, why not?”

“Great.” Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. “It’s a deal.”

“It’s a deal,” he echoed, tilting his mouth up in a half-smile.

With a wink in Dean’s direction, Y/N exited the public bathroom first. Leaving him to stare after her with wonder.

Despite that night, nothing more happened between the two of them in the following weeks. Neither of them brought up the sex, the Mark of Cain, or their agreement.

Dean wanted to bring it up so bad, though. Well, actually, he wanted to go to Y/N’s room down the hall and do all kinds of naughty things to her. As he sat on his bed, he thought about how much he wanted to explore every inch of her body. His mark needed to be fed. And he had a feeling that wrecking Y/N was going to feed it just as well as killing something.

With a sigh, he tossed his closed laptop to the side, watching it bounce across the memory foam. He frowned and looked down at the shirt he was wearing – the Hookup Henley.

Thanks to their night out together, Y/N was all Dean could think about whenever he was wearing it. Her scent had long since faded from his Henley, but he could still feel her fingers tug on the fabric if he imagined it hard enough. He could still hear her moan for him. He still recalled how loved she’d made him feel.

Dean looked up from his shirt when there was a knock on his door. Wearing a frown on his face, he got up from his bed and walked across his room on sock-clad feet.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to find Y/N standing on the other side, all dressed up. Her hair was done in loose curls. Her little black dress fit her body like a glove. Her eyes beamed up at him through long lashes. She was stunning. Dean raised his eyebrows at her. “You goin’ out?”

Y/N observed his face, almost getting lost in his large, beautiful eyes. “I was going to, but…,” she trailed off as she spotted the green Henley that clung tightly to his chest. Damn, she wanted to curl her fingers around the fabric all over again. She could even see his defined pecs through the shirt.

“You want me to go with you?”, Dean asked, pointing his finger down the hall. Sometimes, Y/N asked him to accompany her because she felt safer that way. This time, she wasn’t gonna have to beg him to go out. He would do anything to be close to her again. Even if that meant dancing among a crowd of strangers.

Y/N was sick and tired of not bringing up the fact that they’d had sex a few weeks ago. She craved Dean. She felt like she was going to explode if she stayed away from him. Even though they’d hooked up in a disgusting public bathroom, it was the most intense, intimate experience she’d ever had. “No… Actually… I don’t think I wanna go out anymore.”

“You wanna stay here? We could go downstairs and do some target practice...” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling like a teenager who was asking for his very first date.

“No. No target practice.” Y/N took a step closer to him. Her hands came up to grab the collar of his Henley. It was now or never. She felt anxious, giddy. The way Dean eyed her – with curiosity, and wonder – made her feel alive.

“What do you want?”, Dean muttered lowly, his hot beath fanning across Y/N’s face. His heart was about ready to jump out of his chest. She was so close to him. His for the taking.

Y/N briefly looked away and kicked the door shut behind her. When she faced him again, there was a primal glimmer in her eyes.

The next few seconds felt like a lifetime to Dean. He knew she deserved better than him. He still had the Mark of Cain. He was dangerous. But if Y/N actually wanted him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. He was going to give her everything he had.

“You.”

One single word and Dean was a goner. One single word made his whole miserable world come crashing down around him. Just a second later, his lips collided with hers in a fit of desperate desire. His self-control didn’t stand much of a chance.

Y/N’s hands went to his jaw, compelling Dean to kiss her even harder. His hands went to her ass and squeezed tightly, making her hum against his lips. Their tongues showed no mercy for each other. Dean wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and fisted part of her hair, pushing her as close to him as humanly possible.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Dean’s conscience mumbled in between heated kisses. His own voice sounded so far away, almost as if he wasn’t present in his own clouded mind.

“Shhh.” Y/N placed her finger against his kiss-swollen lips and gave Dean a smile. “Just shut up and take me to bed.” Then she pressed her mouth back to his for emphasis.

Dean’s heart took a leap. Grabbing the backs of her thighs, he lifted her up into his arms, swallowing her excited squeal with his mouth. He was overwhelmed by the sensations that flooded his whole body.

Still, the most prominent feeling was the ache in his forearm. The ache that haunted him whenever he did something wrong. But he couldn’t contain himself. He needed Y/N. God, he needed her so bad that he was willing to jeopardize their friendship – one of the best things he’d ever had.

As he pushed her down on his mattress, the urge to make her scream for him became almost unbearable. He felt like he was going to corrupt her. But as he thrust into her, he felt whole, sated. The mark thanked him for giving in.

Y/N was either going to be his savior or his downfall. And either way, he was going to take his chance.

Tag list: @eevvvaa @waynes-multiverse @myloversgone @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @alagalaska @katbratsupernaturalwhore @woodworthti666 @deanwanddamons @awkward-and-indecisive @snowlovespie @desimarie12​ @golden-hoax​ 

[thegettingbyp2]

Hiya if you are still taking them, may I please request a dean winchester x reader? May I request a sorta of alternative ending to Dark Dynasty where the reader is with Charlie and manages to save and get Charlie out because she has the information that can save Dean from the Mark of Cain and instead she gets captured by the Stiens and Dean goes on the warpath to save her. Please and thank you!

I Have to Find Her

‘Dean? Is that you?’ you said into the phone, still trying to catch your breath as you were trying to prop Charlie’s body against your own, the redhead slipping in and out of consciousness against you.

‘(Y/N)? Where are you, are you both okay? We’re on our way,’ Dean replied, sounding tense, knowing that there was something wrong simply by the fact you were panting down the phone, indicating that you’d had to get out of the motel room fast.

‘I’m okay, but Charlie, she’s injured. Dean, it’s bad and I don’t know what to do,’ you said desperately. ‘They ambushed the room, the Stynes, they were looking for the translation Charlie was working on for the Book of the Damned. They shot her.’

‘What? Is she okay?’

‘At the moment but I don’t think she’s going to be okay for long, she’s fading fast. They didn’t get the book, Charlie sent it to Sam’s email and then destroyed her laptop.’ In the background, you could hear the keys of Sam’s laptop clicking away and Sam’s sound of approval when he saw that he now had the files.

‘Okay, we’re going to be there soon, (Y/N), tell Charlie to hold on,’ Dean said, ‘I love you,’ he said before hanging up.

‘I love you too,’ you said down the now empty phone line before hanging the phone back up and turning all of your attention back to Charlie. ‘Hey come on,’ you said urgently, lightly tapping her face to get her to come back, ‘I need you to stay with me.’

‘You have no clue how long I’ve waited to hear that,’ Charlie said drowsily, making you laugh when you heard that she was still able to make her cheeky comments.

‘Yeah? Well, you stick around for me until we can get you patched up at the bunker and I’ll kiss you,’ you said, laughing through your tears.

‘I’m going to hold you to that,’ Charlie replied, before her eyes fluttered shut. You kept one hand pressed against her neck so you could feel her pulse, knowing that you only needed to panic if you stopped feeling it. You sat in silence on a cold bench, waiting for your boyfriend to show up in his beloved car and take you home, the thought of crawling into bed with him the last thought that was in your mind before everything went black.

---

Dean was out of the car as soon as he stepped on the brakes when he saw Charlie laying still on the floor and you nowhere in sight. He crouched down to lift Charlie off of the cold floor and let out a sign of relief when she stirred in his arms, opening her eyes to look at Dean. ‘They took her,’ she said weakly, trying to hold on so she could tell Dean what had happened to you.

‘(Y/N), who took her?’ he asked, panic lacing his voice at the thought of having no idea where you were.

‘The Stynes. Dean, I’m sorry, I couldn’t do anything,’ she said, her voice trailing off as she lost consciousness again.

‘Hey, it’s not your fault,’ Dean hushed her, knowing that she couldn’t hear him at the moment, ‘you did it Charlie, you didn’t let them get the book.’ He called Sam over and carefully moved Charlie into his arms. ‘Take her to the nearest hospital and then back to the bunker. I’m going to go and find (Y/N).’

‘Dean, you can’t just go, you have no idea where she is,’ Sam protested.

‘Sammy, I’m not going to waste a second while (Y/N)’s with that family, who knows what they’re doing to her,’ Dean exclaimed, sounding more distressed with every word. ‘I’ll call Cas and we’ll find her, you know, he can do those tracking things and he knows (Y/N) so we’ll find her quickly. She needs me Sam and I’m not going to let anything get in the way of me finding her.’

[hellhound-whisperer]

A Mark All Your Own: Sharp Teeth

Pairing | Dean Winchester x female!reader

Warnings | Mark of Cain, angst, smut

Word count | 1,833

Prompt | Episode “Sharp Teeth”

A/N | I like writing from Dean’s POV, so I thought I might alternate that in this “series” every now and then. And since I couldn’t come up with a way to work the reader into this canonically, here we are. 

“Dean!” I dropped the spatula on the counter carelessly, jogging towards the war room. She didn’t sound in trouble, but then again, it never mattered what I was doing; she calls, I come running.

I turned the corner, seeing her in front of her laptop. I walked up behind her, resting my hands on her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. “Yeah?”

She pointed at the article on the screen, and I leaned forward to read it. I turned to her, seeing the same shocked expression on her face I knew was on mine. “You think it’s Garth?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I think it might be. Should we go?”

I pulled out the chair next to hers, and picked up her small hands in mine. “Y/N/N, I think it’s better if you stay here, do some more searching for Abaddon.” She jerked her hands out of mine, folding her arms in front of herself. I knew she wasn’t going to take that well.

“Seriously? Dean, I’m fine.” I sighed, loudly, and ran my hand down my face. 

“I know you’re fine, but sweetheart…”

“Don’t sweetheart me,” she snapped, and rolling my eyes without thinking didn’t seem to help, based on the scowl that followed.

“Y/N, this isn’t about you being fine, alright? We don't know jack about the Mark, or what Cain was warning you about, and after Kevin, I just…” I trailed off, trying to find words that wouldn’t offend her skills as a hunter.

“You want me to be safe,” she finished for me, her voice quiet. “I get it, Dean, I do, but I can’t just sit around here until we gank the bitch.”

“I know, I know. But this isn’t a hunt, it’s trying to find out what the hell happened to Garth. I’ll be back in a day. Can you please just do this for me?” I tried to copy Sam’s signature puppy-dog eyes, and she bit her lip trying not to laugh in my face. 

“Fine,” her eyes rolled. “I will keep searching here, but you call me. A lot. And if you need help…”

“I will ask. Thank you, sweetheart,” I said honestly, more than a little relieved. I was worried about Sammy out there already, Kevin’s death was still a knife stuck in my chest, and I just needed to know she was somewhere safe, protected. I couldn’t lose her too.

 She was looking at me strangely, so I leaned forward to kiss her before she could open that beautiful mouth and I’d have to lie, tell her I was fine. 

Two days later…

I missed Y/N somethin’ bad, but for the first time, I wasn’t looking forward to her waiting at home for me. I’d only actually spoken with her twice, the last telling her we were wrapping up and I was heading back. As usual, it didn’t work out that way. I texted her that much, but ignored the call that followed. I wasn’t going to beg her to stay put in front of Sammy, and invite more questions about her, the Mark, and the next step. 

It all went downhill from there. I tried to call after we cleaned up the wolf problem, but that time, she didn’t answer, so I texted to let her know we were fine, going to grab a couple hours and then I’d be back. Nothing. I tried to call before we left to meet Garth, but all I got back was a single text. Glad you’re alive. My Y/N had a temper that matched mine, but I couldn’t think of another time she was this pissed.

We walked into the war room to find her with her boots propped up on the table, swinging around a butterfly knife.

“Welcome home, Sam,” she said coolly, her eyes not leaving the blade she was twirling in the air. 

“Yeah, um, hey,” he stuttered back, taken aback by her attitude. “I’m gonna go, we’ll catch up in the morning?” She gifted him with a tight smile and a nod, and Sam bolted down the hall towards his room. 

Lucky bastard. 

“Things good with Garth?” she asked, still not looking at me. I knew she was mad, but this was a whole new level, considering this wasn’t the first time she was benched on a hunt for one reason or another. I stepped toward her with the same caution I’d give pretty much anything we hunt. 

“Uh huh…you wanna put the knife down for me, sweetheart? Makin’ me a little nervous,” I asked, trying to break the tension. I moved to drop my duffle on the table, freezing when she slammed her knife tip into the tabletop. “So, you’re mad.”

She finally looked at me, planting her feet on the ground in front of her, and leaned forward. “Mad? No, no, Dean, I’m not mad. I was terrified,” she shot back. “You told me you were coming home, everything was fine, and then I get a text that says,” she pulled out her phone dramatically, “‘Shit, guess we’re not done yet.’ Being your loving girlfriend, I call you to find out what’s up, and you ignored me. I’m a hunter, I get it, fine, he’ll call me right back.”

I ran my hand down my face as she leaned back, throwing her hands up. “And you did, sure. Five hours later. You know what I did in those five hours, Dean?” She looked at me expectantly, and I just sighed. “I got angrier and angrier at myself for letting you go without me, until I got my shit together and left. I was about an hour outside of Lebanon when you called.” She was still seething as she fell silent, glaring at me. I leaned on the war table, facing her, guessing at what the least moronic thing I could say would be.

I failed miserably. “Being terrified for someone isn’t so fun, is it?”

She shot up and marched right in front of me, arms crossed, yelling now. “Oh, is this some sort of payback? I took the Mark and scared you, so you let me think you were torn to shreds by a pack of wolves?!”

“Of course not,” I said, pushing down my own anger, doing my damnedest not to make this even worse. “I’m sorry I said that. And that I made you worry. I got wrapped up in the job, it moved pretty quickly after I texted you.” 

Her jaw clenched, and I could see her hands tightening into fists against her sides. I gripped the table a little harder, stood up a little straighter, but kept our eyes locked. She was searching mine, looking for something, but I had no idea for what. So she completely took me by surprise when her hands shot out, grabbed my face, and pulled my lips to meet hers. She took complete control, kissing me like she thought it would be our last, and my cock twitched as my blood started flowing south. 

I wrapped my hands in her hair, pulling her back just an inch to catch my breath, and I gazed at her, wondering how we got from furious to frisky so quickly. But she didn’t give me any time to think much beyond that, jumping up to wrap her legs around my waist, smashing her lips back to mine. A small part of me thought I should stop this, hash it out and get past it.

She must’ve sensed my hesitation, whispering against my lips, “Just shut up and fuck me.” My upstairs brain took a backseat, and I kissed her back, hard. I spun around, setting her fine ass on the war room table. She grabbed at my flannel, ripping it open and sent buttons scattering on the floor. The sound of the buttons hitting the marble flipped a switch in my mind, reminding me that we weren’t alone in the bunker. I wasn’t about to catch shit from Sammy for this on top of everything else, so I picked her back up, hands bracing her ass and walked to our bedroom, her nibbling at my neck and shoulder the entire way. 

I kicked the door shut behind me, and braced her against the wall so I could unbutton her jeans and then my own. My fingers stroked her already soaked pussy, and a groan escaped my throat. I pushed her panties aside, dipping a finger inside her. 

“Anytime now, Dean,” Y/N teased. Damn, the girl knew how to get me going. Her soft hand had already freed my hard cock, taking control to rub the head against her wetness. If rough is what she wanted, it was sure as hell what she was going to get. 

I pushed her hand aside, lined myself up to her entrance, and thrust upward. 

“Yes, like that,” she gasped. I took her lead, pounding into her over and over again, chasing her release. Her body started to shake, so I knew she was close. Circling her clit with my thumb, her trembling grew. I knew I couldn’t last much longer either.

“That’s my good girl, come for me, Y/N/N,” I panted, knowing it would be her undoing. Her pussy gripped me tight, and that was my cue to let go. I could feel every inch of her as I came, my hand slamming against the wall beside her. We were both breathing hard, and I swear I could hear her heart beating wildly. I stared at her in awe as we came down from our highs, trying to gauge if I’d managed to fuck the rage right out of her. She rested her forehead against mine, kissing me once before untangling her legs. I helped her stand, not fully letting go when she wasn’t steady yet. 

Y/N placed her palm to my chest, pushing me back. I squinted at her, a little surprised she seemed to have recovered already. I might not be a young man anymore, but I knew her like the back of my hand, and she didn’t usually bounce back this quickly either. 

I stared as she walked around me, undressing as she walked to bed and pulled the covers back. She slipped her gorgeously naked body between the sheets and asked, “You coming?”

I shook the shock from my mind, chalking it up to makeup sex, and followed suit. She settled into my side, resting her cheek on my bare chest. I threaded my hand in her hair, and pulled her closer.

“I’m sorry I worried you, Y/N.”

“I know,” she replied. “And?”

“And I won’t sideline you again, I promise.”

“Damn right.”

[sortasirius]

Dean Winchester be like:

I hate myself because it’s what my father taught me to do.  I hate myself because it’s a defense mechanism.  I use sarcasm to cover up the fact that I believe I am worthless.  I raised my brother into a good man, that’s the only good I’ve ever done.  I’ve saved some people, they don’t say thank you, but that’s okay.  I wish I could have been the man my father wanted me to be.  I break everything I touch.  All the people I love I end up killing or leaving me.  I am broken.  I don’t do romantic love, it’s asking for me to get my heart broken, more broken than it already is.  I sold my soul to a demon so I could save my brother, because he’s the best thing I ever did, the only good thing.  I’m afraid to go to Hell, but I pretend I’m not, because what’s the alternative? 

Hell proved that I was the person I always knew I was, a bad person, willing to torture to get out of pain.  I met an angel, he’s not like I thought.  He’s a soldier, like me, he’s taking orders from a father he can’t see.  He starts out as an ally, but he’s different than the others, they say he likes me.  He’s awkward, he stands too close to me sometimes.  I started the Apocalypse because I wasn’t strong enough.  My brother is going down the wrong path, and I don’t know how to stop it.  The angels tell me Lucifer has to rise, but the one that pulled me out of Hell disobeys to help me stop it.  I think I should consider him a friend.  Lucifer rises anyway. 

The angel is on the run from Heaven, he’s a good guy, I like him a lot, more than I think I should.  I don’t know what to do, if I say yes to Michael, we can save some people.  Maybe I’ll get to know peace, maybe my father will be proud of me then.  The angel and my brother are angry at me, but I’ve always been a coward, they just don’t know it.  But they know me best, I can’t say yes to Michael if it means disappointing them. 

My brother goes to the cage with Lucifer and Michael, the angel disappears, and I’m left to pick up the pieces, living a life I feel like I stole from somebody else.  I always sleep with a gun and holy water under the bed, even though I know every entrance is secure.  My brother comes back, but he’s different now, he’s not the same, I should have looked for him.  I feel guilty.  We found out his soul is gone, his soul, his soul.  The angel is back, but he’s no real help.  I kill myself to speak to Death, who brings back his soul in exchange for me playing Death, where I learn a few hard lessons. 

I find out the angel has been working with our enemies.  Why does it feel like my heart is broken when he won’t meet my eyes?  I leave him to the demons, but not before one last look.  I’m not sure why.  The idiot, he ends up dying trying to get souls from Purgatory, desperate to win his war in Heaven.  Why does everyone leave me?  The Leviathan are out there, a new threat.  At least I know how to kill, so I won’t have to think about the muddy trenchcoat in the trunk of my car.  I lose the closest thing I have to a father with a bullet to the brain.  I feel like I’m spinning out of control.  My brother loses his mind.  The angel comes back, he doesn’t recognize me, that hurts.  When he does remember me, I tell him we need him, but I really mean that I do. 

I get sent to Purgatory, I meet a vampire turned ally turned new best friend, but I won’t leave without the angel, I can’t leave without the angel.  We find him, he was running from me, why does everyone run from me?  We make it out of Purgatory, the angel gets left behind.  It turns out my brother didn’t look for me.  Why am I so dispensable?  The vampire is the only one I can trust now.  I dream about the angel, about the way I couldn’t save him.  I feel like I can’t save anyone these days.  I see the angel in the air around me, am I going crazy?  But then he shows up behind me, why do I care so much about him?  I don’t even care where he came from, as long as he’s here.  My brother takes on trials, they start to hurt him.  We find a place to call home.  I’ve never had my own bedroom before.  The angel is distant, I wish I could reach him.  He doesn’t answer my prayers.  He and I find the angel tablet, he hits me.  I tell him I need him, never able to tell him that I think I might love him too.  He snaps out of it then walks out of my life again.  I wish I was lovable.  I almost lose my brother to the trials, he has to know I can’t lose him, he’s all I’ve got.  The angels fall, I wonder about my angel, if he’s alright. 

My brother is dying, and I make a deal with an angel to save him.  My angel says he’s a good guy, and I’m too desperate to vet him properly.  I watch my angel, now a human, die in front of me, the angel in my brother saves him, it’s one of the only times I’ve ever put someone else over my brother.  I feel guilty about that.  I have to kick my angel out, it tears me in half to do it, but I have to protect my brother.  I watch the angel from a gas station window, I try to find the courage to go see him.  I use humor to hide how much I miss him.  My brother finds out about the angel, which cost the life of a kid I was supposed to protect, he’s so angry at me.  Well, I deserve it this time.  I take the Mark of Cain to defeat Abaddon, it can’t be all that bad.  I start to lose my grip on myself.  My angel gives up an army for me, and it’s the closest I feel to being me in months. My brother and my angel try to stop it, but it’s too late.  I die in my brother’s arms.

I wake up with black eyes.  I don’t care about anyone, anything.  There’s a tiny part of me that’s screaming to wake up, but I drown him out easily enough.  My brother finds me, says he wants to cure me.  I don’t want it, I don’t want to be me, not feeling is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  They do cure me though, my brother and my angel, and waking up from the blackness is like surfacing from deep water.  For a while, I feel loved.  But after what I did, I don’t feel like I deserve it.  I’m still not me, and when my friend, who I loved like a sister is taken, I go off the deep end again. It’s too easy, but violence is all I know.  The angel tries to stop me.  I have him where I want him, a blade to the heart and this is all over.  But I still can’t kill him, I still can’t kill the angel.  Death tells me I have to kill my brother.  I almost do it.  But killing Death releases me, and I’m me again.  Sometimes I still wish I wasn’t.

I have this connection to this Darkness.  It scares the hell out of me.  I wish I understood it, I wish I could stop it.  Am I pulled towards the Darkness because I, myself, am darkness?  Is it because I am, because I’ve always been bad?  I lose the angel to Lucifer himself, how did I not notice until it was too late?  Why would he leave me like this?  Will I ever get him back?  My head is foggy around the Darkness, but not when it comes to him.  I just wish I could get through to him.  Lucifer taunts me, my heart rips in half.  We get the angel back, but nothing good can last in this life, can it?  God himself returns, I have to sacrifice myself to stop the Darkness.  I’ll do it, because of course I will, if I have an opportunity to do some good, I’ll take it.  The Darkness doesn’t kill me.  She thanks me.

My mother is alive.  It’s everything I’ve always wanted.  I have to learn fast that she’s not what I thought.  That’s hard.  Me and my brother end up in prison for trying to kill Lucifer, and we find out this girl is going to have his kid.  How will we kill someone innocent?  I can’t think about that, I’m a killer, I’ll kill if i have to.   The angel kills a reaper to save me, but what will happen to him?  We start looking for this kid, but do we even want to find it?  The angel nearly dies for me, he tells me, my family he loves us.  I wish I could tell him the same, but the words won’t work right in my brain, so I do what I always do, I look away.  The angel finds the girl, but the kid inside her gets to him, and he runs away from me.  Why does everyone run from me?  We find them just in time to find a rift to another world, and my brother has to drag me away from the angel, who is going to sacrifice himself to kill Lucifer.  He comes back, but before I can say the words I’ve been holding onto for so long, he dies in front of me, only this time, it’s real.  My mom is taken from me too, and I’m left by the angel’s side, staring up at the sky, wondering why, why me?

I bury the angel, my brother insists we can’t kill the kid, even though it’s his fault my mom is gone and the angel is...  I beg God to bring him back, please, bring him back.  You owe me this, please bring him back.  He doesn’t listen.  I’m alone.  We burn the angel, and I try to learn to live with regret and grief and crippling pain all at once.  I hate the kid, this is his fault.  I kill myself again to save some souls, but also because I want to die this time.  I can’t take it anymore.  Death tells me I have work to do, but how much more work can there be?  How much more can I take?  It’s like the Universe reads my mind, because my angel comes back, and it’s like the last few weeks haven’t happened.  I still can’t say the words, but maybe this time I’ll get there.  Maybe this time.  We go to the other world, we save some people, I find my mom.  I let another Michael from the other world possess me to defeat Lucifer, but then I can’t expel him.  Before he shuts me in my memories, I am desperately afraid.

My brother and the angel find me in my own head, the snap me out of it.  I should have known this bar was too good for me, I knew I didn’t deserve it.  I shut Michael in there, but I know I won’t last long. I think I’m too weak to hold him, so I build a box designed to hold me forever.  I dream about it, claw the sides of the wall until my nails are bloody, but if it’s my eternity or Michael’s rule?  I’ll take the ocean every time.  The angel will always try to save me, I still can’t say the words.  The kid, my kid, he destroys Michael, but something is wrong, and I don;t realize until it’s too late.  My mother is dead, at the hands of the kid, and I have never been angrier.  I hate the kid again, I hate the angel too, I hate myself more.  I pull a gun on the kid, but I still can’t pull the trigger.  Sometimes I wish I could put it to my own head.  God comes back, turns out he was the villain all along.  Typical.  He kills our kid.  I can’t let myself feel.

The angel tries to convince me that we’re real.  How can I believe that?  Is everything I am just a story?  Have I ever chosen anything?  Does the angel really care about me?  Do I really care about him?  Another one of our friends dies.  I blame the angel, I push him away, because I can’t look at him if I think what I feel for him might not be real.  I meet up with someone I loved.  He’s a monster now, I have to kill him.  He dies holding me.  I wish I was dead sometimes too.  My brother is sick, he gets kidnapped by God.  I’m spinning in circles.  Me and the angel end up in Purgatory again.  He gets taken from me.  I’m so alone, so scared, I break down in the one place I could get lost in forever searching for the angel, I don’t want to leave him, please, don’t make me leave him.  I have to keep looking, get back to the real world to save my brother.  How will I choose?  Thank god, or, whatever, I find the angel.  I’ll tell him this time, but he stops me.  He must know.  He doesn’t want me, no one wants me.  Why would they?  Chuck has taken everything from me.  I have to kill him, no matter the cost.  The cost is gonna be our kid, raised from the dead by Death.  I guess the one thing we have going for us is we don’t stay dead for long.  I’m ready to let my kid die for my freedom.  My brother stands in the way, I pull a gun on him.  He talks me down, he’s the only one that can.  I decide to take it out on Death, my pain, my anger, my rage.  I take the angel and we find her, she chases us.  Another trap.  I realize that I’ve trapped us both.  Why am I so worthless?

The angel looks at me.  He smiles.  He tells me how worthy I am, that I’m good, that I changed him.  How can I tell him how he changed me.  He tells me he’ll die for loving me.  Then he shouldn’t, I’m not worth his life.  Don’t leave me, please, I can’t lose you, you don’t know what it does it me when you leave me.  He tells me he loves me.  I try to tell him a fraction of the things I feel for him, but it’s too late.  He’s taken before my eyes, and this time I know there’s no getting him back.

I’m left on the floor, unable to move.

This time I know, I’ll never let myself love again, because my heart is so shattered that it’s powdered, there’s no repairing it now.  I’ve always been broken, but this time I’m not just broken: I’m destroyed.

[sodomitecastiel]

Do you have any recommended spn fics? To be restored is consuming all of my non fenario brainspace

This is in no way an exhaustive list - @jewishcharliebradbury is the one to go for that - but these are some favorites of mine, please always heed their tags just in case!

Putting it under a readmore because I'm a wordy bastard:

Sky Verse by starandrea: Angelic civil war! The crispest, most in-character dialogue! Vast, sprawling worldbuilding! Dean and Cas get together and are very bad at it for a long time! This series obsesses me the way other people are obsessed with dta (which I have not read for fear of commitment but fully intend to eventually).

To Be Restored by serenetyfails: You mentioned this one already but it's worth repeating - it's my favorite trans spn fic that I didn't write myself. Cas's transmasc identity is handled so carefully and so competently, Dean flips out in a way that's both in character and still kind to him, and Sam and Rowena are wonderfully fleshed out. I think many people would look at the premise and worry it's either misogynistic or fetishy, but it's neither, it's such a love letter to Cas's well-earned masculinity. Also, I'm obsessed with Rowena knowing and being buddies with a lot of trans women witches :)

Talk Therapy by shara: This is one of my favorite 'Dean is bad at asking for things' fics, it deals with his inability to want things past what he can give to others really well. I also appreciate that not everything in their relationship is fixed just because they're together, although the amount they love each other is always obvious.

Epilogue by JayneL: A weird little time travel story that is NOT a fixit for endverse, but is exceptionally kind to endverse Cas anyway. It aches very badly. I remember it being pretty trippy but also having to sit and look at the ceiling a while after reading it.

The Love Story of the Runner Up by Margo_Kim: Cas dates a normal human man with a good soul for a little while before he gets with Dean. Both of them know it isn't for forever, but they look after each other anyway. Told through the lens of story-swapping between gay friends and written with so much care & love. (You can thank @okologie for finding this one and making me read it despite my reservations.)

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo: Everyone recommends this fic but it's for a reason. Probably the best post-retirement fic there is, and definitely helped me form the neural connections to write Fenario, haha, I can't recommend this one enough. The complicated Dean and Sam issues are held with just as much weight as the Dean and Cas ones, although both are handled gently.

you and me in the war of the end times by stickthelanding (@tallahasseemp3): Alma knocked it out of the park with this one. THEE shotgunning fic. I've reread it more times than I can count, it has the loveliest atmosphere. I want to gnaw on this prose, said with love!

A Drinking Song by Balder12: Endverse snapshot. This one is mostly just bone hurting juice but it's one of my favorite characterizations of them - sometimes I find that endverse stories either make Cas way too soft or fucked up in a way I find goes too far in a direction I don't agree with, this one feels pitch perfect.

Everyone Is Trying to Get to the Bar by Balder12: All time fave angel true form fic!!! It's deliciously weird and fun, definitely a mind-melter. I only read it the once but sometimes I think about it and get a funny little shiver.

Tall Grass by aeli_kindara: This is another 'universal favorite', but also for good reason. Extraordinarily tender, it's my personal favorite Cas-grows-a-garden post canon story, especially because it manages to write a jealousy plotline that doesn't make me want to bite and kill. Dean's voice is exactly right and everything unfurls with this tender inevitability, idk how else to describe it! It also ends on a final image that's so lovely it's seared into my brain.

Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx by pantheon_of_discord: Nobody does vignettes like supernatural writers. I love the way the road feels in this one, and how carefully picked each moment is. A string of pearls, this fic.

There's Only One Sure Thing That I Know by blinkiesays: Dean and Cas get trapped in the midwest by a curse that doesn't let them leave the state, and they want to break it until they don't. Being trapped gives them an excuse to want to settle down, but the route they take to get there is, of course, circuitous. This one hurts a little because it takes place while Sam is dead, but it isn't gratuitous in its sadness. Sweet and melancholy.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo: FAVE FAVE FAVE FAVE. I push this one at everyone I can. I'm extremely picky about 'Dean's self loathing' fics, mainly because I think it can veer easily into melodrama, but this author weaves Dean's self hatred and his anger together very seamlessly, in a way that feels real to the show. Also, Cas is perfect.

sweeter coming from my hand by perilously: A story that I liked before Nov5 and withstood the test of time!! Dean and Cas get married/soul-bound in order to both remove the Mark of Cain and fix Cas's grace. Features a formative scene for me where Cas expresses worries about if he has a soul and Dean raps knuckles on his chest, going, "knock knock, sounds like a soul in there." If you like this one, perilously has many good fics that are just as in character.

On Labor by a_good_soldier: I very nearly couldn't finish this one, but not because it's bad, haha. The premise just makes me want to tear my clothes in mourning - Dean knows Cas is in love with him, after getting him back from the Empty, and decides that he should give him what he wants without realizing that he wants it too. Dean performatively dating Cas while trying to talk himself into liking it (not knowing that he does actually like it) is exactly the kind of convoluted bullshit Dean's internalized homophobia would do to him. Nauseating and spectacular. Sticks in your brain for weeks.

canticles by 2street2car: An excellent 'weird girl best friends' fic. After striking out at the brothel, Dean decides to treat Cas to the "first date experience" himself, since the guy might die the next day. To sum it up succinctly: the rituals are intricate. And dirty dancing is referenced!

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon: As the author states themself, this fic is a love letter to California - it's a road trip casefic that's so rooted in place, the setting is rich and lush and the atmosphere makes me ache, and not just because it's set in my home state! I saved this one for last because this is another prolific author who has many stories I come back to again and again (Sweet Home and Love: A Retrospective are particularly good), they really don't miss. Usually when I read fic, it's a mad dash to the finish, but I took my time with this one. I highly encourage you to do the same :)