#just dean cannibalizing sammy

[devotedthing]

My lips are still burnt from kissing your face

And feverish forehead the blood that you waste

I'm tired of this, watching it wash out of you

I beg you to stay just 'til tomorrow

I'll clean up the bathtub and we'll leave the state

Mouth open, silent and blue

And in the heat, it searched for you

You were the one I'd have starved with

'Til I can't hold out no more

You were the one l'd come looking for

Over and over and over again

Look at me baby, dead in my eyes

It's the end of our holiday, but it isn't goodbye

Carry me with you all of the time

Eat of me baby, skin to the bone

Body on body, until I'm all gone

But I'm with you, inside

✧ Famous Last Words (An Ode to Eaters)

[mxmvoreandstuff]

Brother Bash (Smut)

Sam wouldn’t shut up. For the entirety of the past hour, he was non-stop talking. Dean was about five seconds away from reaching over the Impala’s seat to smack him.

“Dean, the lore doesn’t add up here. There’s no banshees in the midwest-” 

“Sam, do you ever stop talking?” Dean snapped. His grip on the wheel tightened. “I mean seriously, you got an off switch, right? Or do I need to smack some sense into you for you to shut up?”  

Sam rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed, “Dean, I’m just trying to help.” 

“Yeah, well quit it. You’re annoying and I’m sick of your voice,” Dean replied. He couldn't help but admire the way Sam's body filled out his shirt, the way his muscles rippled under his skin. 

Sam, still salty about Dean’s insults, couldn’t help but have a small pout, clearly exasperated about what Dean said. 

Dean smirked, “What’s wrong Sammy? Don’t tell me I hurt your pretty little feelings.”

Sam huffed, “You know what Dean? Pull over.”  

Dean raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and curiosity on his face. “Oh, this ought to be good. What are you going to do? Gonna cry some pretty tears?

“No,” Sam shot back, his tone sharp. “We’re settling this right now.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Oh, you wanna throw down? Fine by me, Sammy.” 

The moment Dean said that, the 2 brothers began to throw down. They struggled briefly for a moment before ending up outside the Impala. They wrestled around for a bit longer. 

“Gonna teach you to shut up once and for all," Dean growled, his face inches from Sam's. Then, with a sudden, vicious movement, Dean's mouth opened wide and he clamped down on Sam's head, and his throat started to bulge as his much larger brother was shoved in. It was wet and suffocating, Sam was humiliated as his older brother swallowed him up to his arms. Dean groaned as he felt the weight of his brother shift in his mouth. 

Sam started to cry. He’d never been so humiliated in his life. Tears dwelled down his face as Dean grunted with another swallow. Now half of Sam’s body was inside Dean’s stomach. Sam’s mind raced with fear as he was pulled even deeper down Dean’s throat. He couldn’t believe it, the brother he loved and trusted was now borderline cannibalizing him. Sam whimpered, his voice muffled and distorted by the layers of flesh surrounding him. 

With a final gulp, Dean’s stomach bulged obscenely as Sam’s entire body disappeared inside. The hunter let out a deep moan, one hand rubbing his now-massive belly as Sam settled inside.

“That’s it, Sammy, you’re all mine. You little brat,” Dean purred. “Don’t worry, little bro. I’ll take good care of you.” Dean stated as he slowly unzipped his jeans, freeing his hardening cock. 

As Dean began to stroke himself, his other hand rubbing his stomach, Sam could only moan helplessly inside as he was squished by Dean’s internal stomach muscles. Dean’s hand slid lower, fingers pressed against his tight hole as he spoke, “All mine, Sammy. All mine.” He moaned as he slid a finger inside, it reached far enough into Sam’s asshole. 

Sam bit his lip, attempting to stifle a moan. He couldn’t believe the sensation he was feeling. He was getting violated by his brother while inside his stomach.

“Fuck you’re mine, my prey, my fucktoy, my meal.” Dean moaned out.

Sam could only groan as Dean continued to violate his hole. His cock was rock hard and threatening to release. 

Dean continued stroking himself as he fingered himself and Sam. Dean’s thrusts became more rough and feral as both brothers began to reach their climax. Sam’s orgasm hit him like a bullet train, he spilled himself all over the insides of Dean’s gut.  As Dean pulled his finger out, his own orgasm hit him harder than Sam’s. Dean had to sit down for a moment, he was bewildered. Dean attempted to zip up his jeans but with his belly in the way, it was futile. He patted his distended belly before speaking, “Good boy Sammy. You took your punishment well. I love you, little bro. And maybe if you keep behaving, I’ll even let you breathe again.” 

Dean walked back to the Impala, his big squirming belly making it difficult to even get in. Once he sat down in the driver’s seat, Sam continued to squirm, causing Dean to let out a massive, wet belch, the sound echoing throughout the Impala.

“Mhmm, that’s better, Sammy boy,” Dean sighed, rubbing his belly contentedly. He knows his hunger is only temporarily satisfied.

[rainroses45]

What’s in your burger?

☠︎︎description: A ghoulish discovery takes Dean by surprised, it truly was a hunter's biggest dilemma (Dean Winchester x Ghoul Fem! Reader) ☠︎︎a/n: Im watching monster high haunted and I got mega inspiration so expect more on the way plus im trying to clear out my draft box (Not Edited) ☠︎︎song inspiration: Cannibal - Kesha ☠︎︎warning: mention of eating human flesh, killing, you know the usual

Dean’s boots crunched through the brittle leaves as he stepped into the moonlit graveyard. He had followed the trail here. After hours of research and a series of desecrated graves in nearby towns, it all pointed to one thing: a ghoul. His grip on the shotgun tightened, and the salt-iron rounds loaded inside hummed with potential as he scanned the rows of headstones.

Then he saw you.

You were crouched by a fresh grave, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and—damn it—you looked up at him before he could make a move. The smirk that curved your lips stopped him cold. Or was it the blood dripping down your chin?

“Well, well, what do we have here?” you said, standing up and brushing dirt off your hands. Honestly what does it take for a girl to get a good piece of meat out here without the hassle of digging it up and cleaning it. “Big, bad hunter come to play judge, jury, and executioner? A little late now don't you think...it's been dead for what? A week.” You grinned.

“Don’t move,” Dean growled, raising the shotgun to aim squarely at your chest.

You didn’t flinch at his movement. Instead, you tilted your head and crossed your arms, looking more amused than frightened. “Let me guess, you think you’re the hero in this story? Protecting humanity from the big, scary monsters?”

He gritted his teeth. “That’s what you are, isn't? A monster.”

“Sure,” you drawled, stepping closer despite the gun. “But tell me, Hunter," you raised your hands in air quotations at the name hunter, how could they name such weak beings as predators when you are clearly the opposite of their prey - it was a very controversial topic discussed between your kind. "What’s so monstrous about eating what’s already dead? I highly doubt you've ever left a burger unfinished. It's the same principle really."

"I don't recall having human flesh in mine." He snarked back.

"No but you have a dead cow in yours, even a mysterious type of horse meat, and don't get me started with your historical history of surviving off human flesh- what was it called the Donna party no?" You smirked, oh how you loved hitting that specific nerve. "Not to mention there is a rumor going around about dear Sammy boy drinking demons blood - very demure I must say."

Dean faltered, his finger hovering over the trigger. Something in your tone—something confident, almost flirty—made him hesitate. He’d seen ghouls before, but none had ever talked to him like this - none have ever tried bargaining him with American history.

“Quit stalling,” he barked. “You’re just buying time to make a move.”

“Or,” you countered, stopping just out of arm’s reach, “maybe I’m not like the others. Maybe I don’t kill. Maybe you should ask why I’m here instead of shooting first.”

Dean hated how your words wormed their way under his skin, twisting his instincts. He’d been trained to hunt, not to hesitate, but here you were, sharp and self-assured, daring him to look deeper.

Before he could respond, a low growl echoed from the shadows. Dean’s focus snapped to the sound, his grip on the shotgun tightening.

“Friends of yours?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You turned toward the noise, your smirk fading. “Hardly. Ghouls don’t exactly do playdates.”

Two other ghouls emerged, their pale, feral faces twisted with hunger. They weren’t like you, they seemed more concern with expiration dates. Dean could see it immediately in the way they moved, in their gleaming yellow eyes, seemingly fixated on the two of you like prey.

“Looks like you get to play hero after all,” you said, stepping beside him.

“Stay out of my way,” Dean snapped, raising his shotgun as the ghouls lunged. They were too fast for him to prepare his aim. You darted forward with rapid speed, intercepting one of the attackers from reaching the hunter.

“You’re welcome,” you shot back at Dean, before pulling the man down and sinking your teeth into his neck. You pulled backwards as you disconnected his head from his body, and spitting his leftover flesh out of your mouth. "Sir needed some seasoning, oh my-" You let out a gag before you heard growling come from behind you. You had forgotten about thing two after puking up thing one.

Dean reloaded his weapon before firing at the other, the blast echoing through the graveyard. You were about to get up when unexpectedly a third ghoul came out of no where and tackled you to the floor. The second ghoul had crumpled down next to the first, but the third one who tackled you fought back viciously. Dean barely had time to reload before you slammed the ghoul’s head into a tombstone with a sickening crunch.

Panting, you stood, brushing off dirt as if it were nothing. Dean stared, still holding his shotgun at the ready.

“You’re not like them,” he admitted, lowering the weapon slightly.

“Took you long enough to figure that out,” you replied, smirking again. “But don’t worry, Hunter. I’ll let you make it up to me.”

Dean scowled. “We’re not friends.”

“Sure, sure,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “But if you want to get out of here alive, you might need me. Plus I did save you a full load of ammo.”

Dean didn’t lower the shotgun completely, but he let it rest at his side. “You’re on a short leash, sweetheart.”

You grinned, sharpened teeth flashing in the moonlight. “Careful, Huntsmen. I might start to think you like me.”

And as much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t shake the truth. Something about you—your confidence, your humor, and the way you weren’t afraid of him—was already crawling under his skin. Who knows? Maybe he might take a page out of Sam's book, and trust a monster. "I mean how bad could it be?" He thought.

[zmediaoutlet]

“I’m starving. You think they’ll let me sell your ass for a Slim Jim?”

“You made that joke last time we were arrested.”

“What, you think a good bit is only good once? I get no respect, no respect.” The last part not much of an impression because Sam presses harder on the bullet wound with the wad of toilet paper and Dean’s voice goes thin and crackly. A clean-ish hole, in through the meaty part of his shoulder and out by his armpit. Could’ve got his heart or a lung but it doesn’t even feel like it cracked the collarbone. Apparently demons are terrible shots. Lucky, Dean had said, swallowing hard and making his voice harder after. Sam didn’t dignify it with a response.

Dean’s trying to get blood off his hand with more TP. It’s thin, awful stuff, shreds against the tacky stain. The chain between the bracelets clinking. “In those Norwegian prisons I bet they get wet wipes, huh?” he says. Sam takes a deep breath through his nose. “Pampered, or whatever. Could go for some pampering.”

“I’m not killing you,” Sam says, “does that count,” and Dean laughs breathy and weird. It must really hurt. He’d be throwing Sam off already, otherwise.

They dragged the body of Henriksen’s old boss out into the main part of the jail. There’s been shouting. A boom that shook the building but no one has told them what it was, exactly. They aren’t currently top priority, despite being such world-class criminals. A break but not much of one, with Dean still bleeding over Sam’s hands. With what’s coming.

“Demons, huh,” Dean says. On the same train of thought when blood’s on the line, as always. He shifts on the shitty jailhouse mattress, gets his bootheels square on the ground. Sam shifts along with him, keeping the slack easy between their manacled ankles. “Better or worse than cops?”

Henriksen’s vicious little grin, telling them they’d never see each other again. Not quite yellow eyes but Sam’s stomach flips. Dean’s fingers slide over his, in the enveloping shadow of Dean’s jacket. Sam’s let his grip go slack.

“Can’t exorcise a cop,” Dean says, answering his own question because Sam feels like he’s going to puke. Taking point, as always. “Gotta be a point in the demons’ favor.”

“How are we gonna get him to believe us,” Sam says.

It’s all he can think. There are demons and there’s this asshole, do-gooder cop, who thinks he’s saving the day from monsters when he doesn’t know what monsters really are. If they had iron and salt and silver and a chance they might make it out. Maybe. Not like this.

“He thinks we’re psycho graverobbing murdering cannibals, Sammy, I’m not sure we’re in the circle of trust,” Dean says. He jostles his shoulder against Sam’s chest, even though that must hurt. “But hey, at least he didn’t guess about—”

“Jesus,” Sam says. Dean grins white in the emergency lights. No, Henriksen didn’t say that, did he. Although he did���about Dad—

“You think if we start making out in here, they’d open the door?” Dean’s fingers slip against his, pressing both their hands harder against his shoulder. He flinches. Still grinning. “Just to pull us apart, anyway. Worth a shot.”

“Shut up,” Sam says. Dean bites his lip, turning his face away. His chin trembles and Sam wants to—lay full length over him, take the next bullet if it comes. Go back in time and exorcise the demon before it could pull its gun, get Henriksen against the bars and get his hands around Henriksen’s neck and force him to hear the truth. That the dark was swarming up around them and if Henriksen didn’t let them go then it was going to take everyone in this station and, worse, it was going to take Dean and there was no chance, not one in the fucking world, that Sam was going to let his brother go without a fight. That it was impossible for that to happen again. Everything in him was solid on that part. That just—there’s no way that was going to happen.

Dean’s knee sags and presses against Sam’s. “Okay, so,” Dean says, chin tipping down. “We’ll take out the demons, save the day. Guess even cops beat demons. And save the making out part for later, huh? Though I could go for some of that surf and turf.”

Sam breathes out. He puts his forehead down to Dean’s shoulder for two seconds, and then sits up straight. There’s more shouting, somewhere past the hall to the holding cells. Sam squeezes his wrist, lets him drop his hand, presses the compress hard and solid against the wound. Dean’s looking straight ahead, steady. A well, somewhere in him, that always seems to have one last drop of relief.

[sleepingbeautysammy]

a list in no particular order of wincest/spn fics that i want to crawl inside and never leave, that really pinpoint what i like abt samdean or spn etc etc just like. hits the nail on the head for me:

(btw if you have any fics that are kind of like these or u think i would like please let me see please)

dead unfinished selves by hathfrozen 

 i love cannibalism and horror and codependency and this hits all the marks for me!! so well written too. 

credence by road_rhythm 

sleeping beauty references 😍 somnophilia 😍 i loveeee this one sm. 

easy access by edwardina 

i love sam in skirts and i love breeding what can i say? 

good girl by blindswandive

this literally makes me short circuit so hard i love girlsam

the very first stone by road_rhythm 

every single chapter with the different povs stunned me. everything about this is perfect and sucks you right into their world. i cannot stress it enough i LOVE this fic. 

splinters by morgan

COWBOY SOUTHERN GOTHIC AU PREACHER JOHN FIRE STARTER SAM!!! god this fic is beautiful and stunning amazing i love it

distance swimmer by lichenthrope

god. f/f samdean does smth to me dean in this is sooo hot 

the palm oasis by fictionallemons

the world building in this is immaculate, the setting and mood sucks you in so deep i feel like i’m there with them. one of my fave eras too. 

wolfpack by tabaqui

okay this whole series really does it for me cause i love scary winchesters. there is a part with a mary prayer card in the second part that i cannot get out of my mind ever. 

they then ate the sailors by coyotesuspect

case fic that rattles my brain it’s so well rounded and thought out. i adore the apartment, the water, everything. 

tape by franceshouseman 

the voyeuristic quality and dirty talk in this fic is incredibly hot, i think about it a lot.

odysseus, american by coyotesuspect 

i love love loveeee classical references in fics, and the idea of dean listening to the odyssey delights me to no end. this fic brought a tear to my eye. love you dean 

show me again, shame takes hold by objectlesson

BUTCH DEAN. BUTCH DEAN. BUTCH DEAN. she makes me melt. 

squint into the sun | glare into the gloaming by dyed_red

god this one is good. i love the slow burn i love sam’s inability to be ashamed. loved the john pov. love a good john finds out fic please read this one

brother only wants by hathfrozen

god this slow burn is so so delicious it really pays off and all their little moments it’s like it really has all the aspects of their obsession w each other and their dynamic like the sex isn’t even the main point (tho when it finally happens 😍 fucking fireworks) so good

the blood in your mouth by hathfrozen

dean has cannibalistic thoughts about sam and they fuck nasty about it. i s2g idgaf i WILL rec individual fics by the same author if i see so fit.

an act of faith against the night by hathfrozen

this one is hot and heartbreaking at the same time. love it when sammy cries. s3, sam is upset about deans deal and they fuck nasty about it.

[according2thelore]

Oh I'm SO curious about all the wips you've mentioned but I'm especially interested in 🐺

I've been so curious about it ever since you brought it up and I'm DESPERATE for any of the alpha/omega verse, especially the collar idea UGH

I'd also really be interested in hearing about 🌀 cause I loooove unhinged sam in mystery spot(also I'm a gore fan sooo)

And of course I'm a whore for the es/ls verse so👴

Your brain is just so large I want to know EVERYTHING

hello!!!

EEE i'm so glad you liked the idea!!! <3 because it's you, i've just made these straight-up excerpts, lol! i hope that's okay!

here they are! i'm putting a cut for cannibalism mention (no actual cannibalism but you cannot be too careful!) for the 🌀 one!

🐺: Dean used to have a collar. Sam knows he did. Sam realizes, then, that Dean probably can’t use it anymore because it was a juvenile collar. It’s probably too small, now, and that makes Sam sick to his stomach.

It was green. Sam knows because he picked it out for him. He was eight, and he, Dad, and Dean had gone into an actual mall to find a clothing store that sold them. They were driving back and forth across Texas taking out cases here and there, and the motel receptionist outside of San Antonio had taken one look at Dean and gave Dad a warning glare.

He can’t be here like that. People might get the wrong idea.

🌀: (context, sam shoves his thumb into dean's bullet hole after dean accidentally shoots himself in the head, insane context i know)

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean says, like Sam hadn’t just been knuckle-deep in his frontal lobe (the lobe in charge of planning, foresight, sequential thought, expressive language, Sam remembers). Sam wants to go back and press harder into Dean’s frontal lobe, see if he can completely erase the memory that Dean even has a brother.

Sam hadn’t been tracking Dean’s facial expression and realizes that he’s completely sobered, eyebrows pressed together in thinly veiled concern.

“Hey, you’re okay.” Dean says, something that he used to say after Sam had nightmares, three months ago. Sam can only imagine what he looks like. Shattered, probably.

“I want to eat your hypothalamus” Sam says. Dean blinks at him. His brow furrows farther.

“My what?” Dean asks, not sounding as disturbed as he probably should be.

“It’s the part of your brain that loves me.” Sam says, "I want it gone." He rolls over in bed, and goes back to sleep. 

Sam wakes up.

👴: A thought picks at his brain. Wait. Before Cold Oak. 2006. Sam turns to look at Dean, who’s still sitting at the table. His eyes are watching Sam intensely, and Sam wonders what he must look like to this Dean. Does he look like some funhouse mirror, twisting something well-worn and comfortable into something hulking, monstrous? Sam knows that he’s not the same shape he was when he was twenty-three. He almost wants to reach up and push his hair back. He had his bangs in 2006, right? He remembers Dean ragging on him a bunch for it. It’s almost to his shoulders now, but Dean hasn’t said anything. Sam wonders what that means. Dean—his Dean—loves to tuck it behind his ears, loves to brush it aside so he can kiss Sam’s neck, loves to have a hand in it when they kiss. And he still loves to make fun of him for it. The thought is jarring enough to get Sam’s brain back with the program. He clears his throat.

thank you for this ask! <3 i hope you enjoyed!!

-lizzy

(from this ask game here!)

[collarbjt]

SPN 1013

Dean’s self loathing … plz forgive yourself

Sammy believes the easter bunny till the 11 AND a half????? Lol you cute little puppy boy😂

Dean’s turned into a child!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe he’s 907’s Dean

Age swap!!!! Hahahaha Sam is older than Dean now. Oh now Sam’s son Dean??? Hahahahahaha

I always assume that Dean’s ‘eat every food in front of me’ habit is bc of John. 🤯

Talyor’s song is young Dean’s taste haha so cute

Oh what… Hensel and Grettel? This episode reminds me of the fairytale episode in former season.

Aha, that witch is german, bc she’s from the Grim bros’ fairytale? hahaha

What…Hensel lied? You bastard

I think that witch is pedo but now, she’s just cannibal

She came to the U.S. to deal with Rowena. I was already curious about what had happened to her.

Oh... That witch was killed in the same way as the witch in the fairy tale.

Sam🥹 what a lovely bro

Dean: I’m back, baby. - love this line so much

And end with Taylor Swift ‘Shake it off’ lol love the song

[unvow]

My favorite thing about the brothers is that Sam could do literally anything and dean would let him. Like I’m losing my marbles that Dean, famous killer of evil things, could straight up know Sam is a necrophile and still love him and fight for him and die for him alslskdjdoak

oh absolutely. when it comes to sam all his morality completely goes out the window. that's why i adore au's where sam is even more of a depraved little freak and dean is just like um. no it's okay sammy don't worry ♡. then just lets him keep engaging in the behaviour whether it's necro, cannibalism, murder. maybe all three. even if sam is a monster he's dean's monster and that's what matters the most

[coffincanary]

John Werewolf AU anyone? 👀 (CW Wincest, cannibalism/heart-eating, injury/gore, biting, general weirdness to be expected) John gets turned on one of his earliest hunts when he barely knows what he's even doing and is just starting to write his journal. He knows he shouldn't return home, but yet, what other choice does he have? They just lost their mother, and now their father, with that thing that killed Mary still out there? It's out of the question. Of course, it's hard. Being around his boys with that hunger gnawing at him every time he hugs them and hears their tiny little hearts thump against his own chest. The animal hearts he forces himself to eat are disgusting, but it's enough to keep him going, enough to not go crazy and do something horrible. Though that's not good either, because the livestock killings quickly attract the attention of other hunters. And John knows that if he is discovered, Dean and Sam might get killed too, because they'd be assumed to be monsters too. So John is forced to improvise. When he kills a vamp on his next hunt, he eats their heart. It's... surprisingly good? Tastes like moss and dirt. It's the best heart John has ever eaten. Maybe because the thing used to be human. But it takes that edge off the hunger that makes him sometimes poke Dean's chest hard enough to leave a bruise. He begins eating the monsters he hunts. Some of them taste absolutely horrid. Wendigos are the worst, and werewolves too. Others taste just fine. He gets a taste for vamps. Others make him experience a kind of drug trip - fae creatures, the occasional minor god, makes him see shapes and colors giving him new understandings of the universe he can't remember when the high wears off.

He still hungers for his boys. He knows it. Dean and Sam know about monsters. Dean knows that their father is one, too. Caught John eating a cow heart years ago. They don't speak about it, just share the implicit promise not to tell Sammy. Eventually, John trusts Dean enough to come along on hunts. During their first one, Dean gets the kill and carves the monsters heart out for his father. It almost makes John weep. John still knows he won't be able to control himself forever. Dean's growing older, and with that come feelings for his son, feelings he tries to suppress because they were reserved for Mary, but ones that shove to the surface, letting his gaze linger on the soft curves of Dean's back or the way Dean stretches like a cat, feline and agile. Different kinds of hunger mixing, and John knows that if he ever touches this boy, it's gonna end with eating his son, too. The hunts don't make it better. Dean moves with an affinity and efficiency that almost scares John, killing and getting his hands bloody without a seconds thought. A beautiful killer by John's hands, and one so devoted to his father that he'll break open a ribcage without even blinking. John knows what he needs to do. One night they go on another hunt, a rugaru camping out in a forest. Except that there isn't a rugaru. And when Dean turns his back to his father, John pounces. Pushing Dean to the ground and digging his teeth deep into the back of Dean's neck, tearing flesh. His boy cries out in pain, struggles even, but of course, John is stronger, holding Dean down as his boy bucks. John holds his teeth there, fangs piercing deep, a low growl emerging from his throat as his son quits his struggle, going limp below him. Only quiet, pained whimpers escaping Dean to show that he hasn't passed out. John stays lodged inside his boy for a good minute until he lets go, lips smeared with Dean's blood. His boy is trembling below him, crying softly, and John makes sure to lick the blood of his neck and whispering murmured praise as grabs Dean and pulls his son on his lap, Dean's heaving back pressed against his chest. Dean stops crying eventually, the shock of the attack wearing off. His boy hasn't said a thing, hadn't asked a single question, as if he knew what John was doing. John was still licking the blood off of Dean's neck when the wounds finally begin to heal under his tongue, flesh knitting together. It is only then that Dean slumps against his father, utterly exhausted, beautiful green doe-eyes red with cried tears. "You did so well.: My boy." John mutters, as he kisses his sons sticky lashes, and then his forehead, tiny kisses he hadn't allowed himself before, and is now because Dean deserves it, deserves them. Dean lets him, leans into it, turning on his father's lap so he can bury his face in John's leather jacket when it gets too much. John presses his face into Dean's soft hair, taking in his scent. Dean's heart thumping against his own chest, slowly calming. John is still hungry.

[daniel-targaryen]

S3E8 A Very Supernatural Christmas

This is so funny

Anti santa

What's up withh this couple.

PLASTIC COUCH??? Cool gingerbread house tho

This is straight up cannibalism. And not the love metaphor kind.

Wow these two are strong. IS DEAN UNCONSCIOUS?? Well they both are now

Omg this is hilarious

These two cannibal gods are so funny

This woman is so funny I love her

Dont hurt Sammy

This human eating god just congratulated Dean for not cursing

SAMMY NO

Dean be saved by the bell

The treece

Wow Dean's getting his ass kicked

The gods are dead

They got pissed

Damn another sad flashback Dean my boi 😭

Damn screw you John

SAM SAM OMG MY HEART

DEAN STILL WEARS IT AHSKSKSM

WOOO CHRISTMAS

IM GONNA CRY (positive)

Dean why do you have to die-

Dean looks like he's about to cry

Watching this doing math homework lol

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

 Dean shakes his head ferociously, clutching against the fabric of Dad’s jeans. He has to make sure Sammy stays safe.

  “—and of the Holy Spirit,” Pastor Jim finishes, emptying the rest of the water onto Sammy’s forehead. Dean prays to the God he no longer believes in that her eyes are closed as she wails. He has a terrible feeling that if Dad just saw her eyes—just saw the way she stares up at everyone when she gets like that, that piercing, blinding, captivating glow that can’t be escaped—he would do something horrible, like drop his daughter into the water and let it quench the golden flame of her stare.

Sam has always felt like a freak in his body. As long as he can remember, his life has revolved around his brother--but as he begins to transition from a child to a teenager, he's forced into a reckoning of his feelings for Dean, and a strange angel appearing in his dreams that calls itself Azazel.

***

Hey y’all! For those of you who aren’t out trick-or-treating or getting high and watching campy horror films, I’ve got a horror wincest fic for you, illustrated by the amazing @blindswandive​ !! If you’re interested in a long, bloody, kinky, weecest fic featuring Azazel & his special children, demon blood goodness, trans!sam, and religious-toned SPN, check it out HERE!

Warnings: Gore, Underage, Cannibalism, some queerphobia, consensual misgendering, Murder/Death, discussions of periods+pregnancy, minor Sam/Azazel with consent issues

and check out the amazing art for this story HERE !!!

[underthebednotebook]

“So it’s a biting hex?”

tw: biting, mild cannibalism (like blink and you'll miss it) and the eroticism of the oldest Winchester in a muzzle.

Reblogs accepted and appreciated!

Rowena can’t help but smile at Sam’s questioning tone when her fingers were pressing against Dean’s gums. She hums and presses the pad of her middle finger against a canine and can only yelp in surprise when she feels Dean try to bite down on the soft skin.

“Looks like it. You boys got a pretty easy one this time, though, so I will count that as a win!” She sighs and pulls her fingers out, shaking away the excess saliva with a flick and conjuring up a handkerchief so she could clean off the rest. Sam, however, doesn’t seem too pleased with the answer and instead points at Dean who had pushed his own fingers in his mouth and was rubbing at an alarming pace with just an equally indignant look.

“Easy?! He’s been doing this for two days!”

“I’ve been doing this for two days!”

“I’m tired of coming up for excuses as to why he has his fingers in his mouth!”

“Sammy told the cute cashier lady that I was recovering from rabies, I need this gone right fucking now!’

Honestly as much as Rowena had a soft spot for the Winchester boys, they tended to grate on her nerves just as much as Fergus. Their voices were loud enough, she didn’t need to hear them reverberating all through the bunker.

“Samuel, come on, you’re an amateur magic user, you should know how to get rid of a physical hex this simple.”

Sam groans and rubs his hand on his face, “For the last time, I can’t burn the hex bag because Dean ate the damn thing.”

It’s silent for a moment before Sam’s face twitches, putting his hand up as if to excuse himself but not being able to hide the giggles that escaped him. Rowena tried her best as well–but it wasn’t one of her siblings that had eaten a hex bag so she gave up on hiding it without too much remorse.

“Hey! You’re the health freak who told me to eat more brussel sprouts, I was just trying to appease your bitch face, Sammy!”

Rowena waves her hands around, “Okay okay enough. I guess I don’t mind helping you boys this time.” She slaps Dean’s hand out of his mouth “You, mister, need to bite into something you’ve always wanted to bite into.”

“What?” Dean is practically drooling as he replies, “What do you mean?”

“The world’s most expensive chocolate truffle, a tiramisu with gold flakes, the greasiest burger in your country or even one of those little bouncy balls that I’ve seen kids play with–I don’t know what you Americans like but it has to be something you’ve wanted to bite into for the longest time.”

Sam interrupts first, “How would that help?”

“In some cases, a hex and a curse can be cured the same way. You are cursed to bite something? Make it something you’ve always wanted and boom, the hex is neutralized long enough so that I can whip up some sort of drink that will burn that thing right out of you.”

Rowena boops Dean’s nose with a cheeky grin and turns around to look at Sam.

“So how about you let me and him figure out what that is and you go gather the ingredients necessary for his cocktail.”

Sam frowns, “...You won’t mess with him?”

“Look at him.” Rowena points at him, “He’s already lost in thought.”

It was true. Dean was staring straight at Sam with a wide-eyed look, sucking on his teeth as his hands laid flat on his lap. He rarely sees that kind of concentration in Dean unless it's during a hunt and it wasn’t like he was going too far. He would still be in the same building within an earshot away. Sam sighs and gives Rowena one last warning glare before turning around and heading to the basement.

That was easy enough. Rowena grins as claps her hand and turns towards Dean.

“So? What is it you want–oh.”

It’s instant. The way Dean stands up and moves towards Sam could only be measured in a blink of an eye. He doesn’t yell, he doesn’t scream, Dean just grabs the back of Sam’s neck and pulls him down. Sam goes to grab for something to steady himself but the hand holding his neck is now grabbing his wrist. He calls out to Dean but another hand pulls down the flannel far enough to reveal a patch of skin just ripe enough to just–

“AH!”

Dean’s teeth sink into Sam’s skin and it’s like the itching in his gums didn’t even exist. He doesn’t want to break skin but it’s almost unavoidable, a little bit of blood seeping from what Dean wished was a softer bite. He doesn’t let go, doesn’t want to let go, his teeth are almost begging to go deeper and feel Sam’s pulse through them but his instinct to keep his brother safe trumps whatever his brain is telling him and is asking him to be satiated with just this because this is as far as he could get without feeling like he wants to swallow Sam whole. He makes it up to him instantly of course, soft and slow licks pressing against the small wounds and tasting the blood and sweat that tasted better than any seasoning Dean could think of at the moment. So good in fact that he latches his teeth on a fresh patch of skin, sucking and biting until the area is left purple and bloody before going higher and higher.

"Sammy…”

“Musus!”

Sam can’t help but hiss when he feels cold metal shove against his skininstead of warm lips and sharp teeth, immediately pulling away from Dean’s now relaxed grip and whipping back to look at his brother. Dean’s hands were tugging at the black, metal muzzle on his face, looking around aimlessly before meeting Sam’s eyes with just barely hidden shame. Thankfully, Rowena spoke up before the silence got too suffocating.

“...okay. I did expect that but didn’t expect Dean to do it in my presence. But we can still work with this!” She leans over to look at the taller man, “Samuel, the ingredients?”

Ingredients? Dean had just bitten him and Rowena is talking about ingredients? Sam can’t help but put a hand on the bites that now littered his neck, a quick shiver going down his spine when he feels the small ridges where skin had been broken and Dean’s canine had gone through.

“Yeah…I’ll…I’ll go do that.”

Maybe it was a good idea to step out of the room and into whatever deepest, darkest basement they had in the bunker. Sam didn’t want to think about just why the image of Dean pulling at the black muzzle on his face while growling at Rowena to take it off was so…distracting.

[wilsonthemoose]

Lay Down Your Weary Tune

(also on Ao3)

Contrary to popular belief, there are signs.

The bone-deep feeling of not belonging. The almost irrepressible urge, when you see a packet of razor blades, to swallow it whole. The ache that comes from a lack of true purpose. That feeling of nothingness that comes from something missing in you.

Contrary to popular belief, there are signs that you're already dead.

_

It's been three years.

Dean hasn't brought up Ruby or the demon blood or the almost-end-of-the-world.

Three years and Sam has mostly stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop except sometimes perhaps when they fight and Dean's angry enough to list all of Sam's biggest failures. He never does go beyond 'left for Stanford' and this many years away from it, the betrayal holds less of a sting than it did before.

It's been three years. Give or take. Things are alright.

Dean makes jokes at truckstops and Sam tries to ignore the nagging in the back of his mind that Dean's made that joke before. Tries to chalk it up to deja vu. Tries to chalk it up to knowing Dean so well that everything he says sounds familiar.

The cases have a similarly nagging repetition to them. The skinwalkers and shapeshifters, demons and restless spirits.

The small towns and the motels, their one-week homes. The diners and the disobliging sheriffs.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, something twitches. Something nags. He doesn't want to examine it too closely.

"Driver picks the music," Dean says, "shotgun shuts his cake hole."

Sam laughs.

Things are alright.

A reflected shaft of light passes over the chalkboard he's only pretending to read. Really, his eyes are on the half-dead girl staring reproachfully at him from behind the counter.

Her hair is greasy and her breathing shallow. Skin discoloured to a sickly grey-yellow.

"I'll have the pancakes and a coffee," Dean tells the waitress.

Sam orders a sandwich.

The girl eventually disappears.

_

Sam tests Dean sometimes. Asks questions, springing them at inopportune moments, hoping to startle a reaction from Dean. "Remember Ruby?"

"Huh?" Dean asks, genuinely confused. Then, teasing and guileless, "You know I can't keep track of your girlfriends, Sammy." Any sting the words carry is not Dean's fault.

In the passenger seat with his head throbbing, arms and back sore, and covered in damp dirt, Sam can't stop himself, "remember Lilith? And the 66 seals and–"

"Who– Sam are you alright?" Dean asks, turning towards him in concern. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two," he says flatly. "Dean, don't you remember? The horsemen and the apocalypse and– I'm not concussed, Dean." he sighs in frustration. "No the lights aren't bright, no I'm not dizzy," he counts down another several symptoms of concussions that he's not experiencing.

"Jeez, you sound angry," Dean says, allayed at last, "Irritation. That's a symptom."

_

He provokes Dean sometimes. Talks about Lisa and Ben.

Dean gets a faraway look in his eyes, "wonder how they're doing." he mutters, mostly to himself.

Guilty, Sam doesn't provoke again for another few weeks when he brings them up again and shouts about how badly Dean screwed up there because you don't take that away from someone.

He brings up the demon blood.

Dean just has this blank look in his eyes. "What are you talking about, Sammy?"

Sam shakes his head.

It's been three years, he thinks, while his body dies in a Djinn's basement lair, and his brother searches abandoned buildings and warehouses, getting more and more frantic by the hour because it's been a week and he doesn't know if Sam's even alive anymore.

_

Contrary to popular belief, there are signs. The mind knows it's all a charade. It wants out.

Running after an escaping cannibal over the rooftops, this sudden urge to just keep going over the ledge.

_

It's been three years, Sam thinks, and finally connects it to whatever it was they were hunting way back when. That one case he can't remember solving.

Finally wonders if it was a Djinn.

The girl on the corner of the street stares at him. Her eyes never shift from his face, even as her head tilts to the side and comes to rest on her shoulder like a broken doll's head. Unblinking. Slowly, very slowly, her arms lift up over her head, ratty white sleeves slipping down as her limp wrists join together and cross. Her feet rise a foot from the ground. Finally, her eyes shut.

It's been three years, Sam thinks and makes Dean drive to Louisiana and finds himself in an empty factory, hanging by the wrists.

"Just couldn't leave it alone, could you, Sammy?" Dean says, disappointed.

Sam looks at himself, fluttering eyelids, ragged breathing, and emaciated face.

He looks down at his own wrists, red bruises appearing there and fading again like light from a street lamp in a speeding car.

"I don't get what the dream was," Sam admits, cold. "Just this life? Dirty motels and near-death experiences?"

Dean smiles sadly, "You're clean here, Sam," he tells him. "There's no demon blood in you."

Such a big change, and he never truly believed it. Wanted it so badly it registered as his greatest desire to the Djinn; more than any pie-in-the-sky fantasy of a white picket fence or his parents in the house in Lawrence. Yet he never truly believed it.

"You can stay, Sam." Dean tells him, softly. Like he's granting permission.

_

These are probably the signs.

This figment that looks like his brother telling him to let go, to take the easy way out.

Dean would shout and rage, he'd never let Sam give up, much less try to convince him.

"Sammy, it's time to let go," Dean says but it isn't Dean. "You're so tired, Sam, you can rest now."

Sam tries to wake up. Tries to get back to his brother.

It's just that it's been a week now and he's been hanging by bruised, infected wrists in the chilled basement of a monster's lair. He wakes himself out of that soft dream only to die with his toes almost touching the floor and his arms numb from pain.

Possibly, just before he closes his eyes, there's Dean cutting him down and laying him gently on the floor, telling him he'll be alright.

He can't be sure.

It's a beautiful thought though.

[gen-spn]

supernatural AU where everything is exactly the same except after the benders whenever sam goes somewhere without dean, dean says goodbye like "have fun and don't get kidnapped by cannibals" every. single. time. Sam is going out for coffee "hey sammy, don't get kidnapped by cannibals " sam and dean split up for a hunt "you get the west side of town and don't get kidnapped by cannibals" dean becomes a human soul bomb and is going to kill Amara "just...don't get kidnapped by cannibals, okay sammy?" (and then when they reunite, sam's rebuttal "well, at least they weren't cannibals") i just think that would be fun

[fandom-hoarder]

What are your favorite weecest/wincest hc's?

Ooh lemme think...

This hc about daddy kink is definitely on the list!

I love insatiable Sam with more hidden kinks than Dean even imagines. I love orally fixated Sam and Dean obsessed with it. I love feminized Sam, but I also like angstier stuff where Dean's exploring kinks but Sam's exploring gender.

I love breeding kink where the real kink is possession and obsession and their absolute feralness/desperation over owning/being owned//branding/being branded. And on the opposite side of the scale from that is cannibalism kink. Mmmm so, SO good.

I love sneaky, conniving Sam that tempts Dean into acting on his feelings. Sam that wants to be marked up and punished for being contrary and mouthy. But I also love dirty Dean that corrupts and debauches innocent Sammy. A Dean that knows what Sam needs better than Sam.

I love weecest when they're so wrapped up in each other and this crazy hunting life that they unknowingly make normies uncomfortable. I love seeing outsider pov on that.

I love either of them being violent/murderous for the other and the other getting off on it.

I love thinking about pining!Sam, who tries to pray away his incestuous feelings and decides he has to leave (to Stanford) so he doesn't drag Dean to hell with him through sin. 💔

Or pining!Dean, determined to never tell Sam, never give in; as long as Sam is beside him that's enough! But then when his Hell deal comes, Sam tries to give himself to Dean. And Dean's like, no Sammy, I won't damn you like that! And Sam's like, Dean, I'm already damned (because i love you; because you're leaving; because i will bring you back no matter the cost).

I love wincest that progresses without them realizing it until they look at it straight on. Lack of boundaries and close quarters and grit and bruises and comfort.

Or late seasons wincest where they're fully aware the other is IT for them--be it qpr or sexual wincest. Domestic wincest that shines under weapons checks, morning coffee, wound tending, tending to laundry stains, supply shopping, goofy pranks and casual affection; conversations that don't need verbally articulated; letting 'are you together' type comments slide because, yeah. Where they try to be better for the other; to communicate and show affection because they don't have to protect themselves from it.

I typically don't care for losing the taboo completely. I don't need or really want traditional dates or boyfriend monikers or legal marriage. But I do love shared/meaningful jewelry; handfasting (Sacrifice my beloved); when they just don't give a fuck, or when they sort of do but the people that know them well are just like 'well it's SamnDean🤷‍♀️' I love them brotherwife-ing, but I'm not looking for gender roles or tidy boxes.

I love them being soulmates, but in a like 'fuck you, chuck' way--like that part wasn't in the plan, and that's what a force they are!

[my-sherlock221b]

Supernatural Rewatch Ramblings: Wendigo

Wendigo

The long line of the MoTW series in Supernatural starts off with the Woman in White which is fairly well- known legend/ myth in most countries.  Then we get this one next which claims origin from the Native American mythology.

Here is a review of the Wendigo episode with thoughts from me and @soulmates-for-real​

I have always wondered why they were not so inclusive or better at being inclusive as a show. Yes, they did have many women and people of colour in important and strong roles, both positive and negative (though they could have done so much better!). But they steered clear from some of the huge mythology lores like that from Native Americans, Hindu, Latin American cultures. This may have been a wise political strategy to avoid conflict and so they stuck to the Judeo- Christian core but still managed a rather radical take on it!

Spoiler alert:

*God was the final villain?! Who would have guessed? And that the angels were dicks, relentlessly, and demons were in fact ex-humans.*

So back to Wendigo.

What a monster the Wendigo is!! In later seasons when we got only angels and demons and some vampires etc the other monsters were monsters in and of themselves. Like they were born that way—needing to eat human pituitary glands or whatever.

But Woman in White and Wendigo, and even Dead in the Water, or the Shapeshifter --the monster was created by circumstances. Betrayal and infidelity leading to murder suicides, extreme starvation leading to cannibalism and eternal hunger.

Far more terrifying than someone who is born a ghoul perhaps.

So here we are in Wendigo, at the forest/camp site with these fake, charming, rather useless camp rangers who carry M&Ms (nice touch and throwback to E.T. !), don’t wear shorts ( which anyway seems like a weird thing to wear when there is grass and stuff—why would you want to expose your legs?!), can’t see bear traps ( Seriously Dean?! ).

Sam is still restless and bristling at Jess’s death, as well as angry at Dad. All those years of separation do not seem to have given him any peace in his relationship with his father. Now to add massive insult to his already injured sense of self—he has lost his girlfriend in exactly the same way as his father lost his wife—making them even more identical.

So he is cranky and unwilling to give in to any of Dean’s suggestions. He denies his own nightmares, refuses good advice and food and is generally misanthropic. While Dean on the other hand seems to be enjoying this like a happy jolly road trip. The monster is almost like a secondary priority now.

What is most important, (and this becomes even more obvious in a re-watch post finale)—what is THE most important thing is that Sammy is riding shotgun, is in front of his eyes and safe.

Miserable and bitchy but safe.

That allows Dean to dial back a bit and bring into focus what has always been, for him, the really important part of their lives—saving people. This is always more important to him that hunting things. So, when he finds out about someone’s brother being lost and the coordinates match what his dad has left, well there is no choice really.

They have to find a way to save him.

If they find Dad there, well, good, but that is suddenly not a priority for him at all. He turned up at Sam’s doorstep, and as we know from the finale, waited there for HOURS since he was unsure of his welcome, then broke in at 3 am or something like an idiot….but anyway…..all that was because Dad had been away on a hunting trip and hadn’t been home in a few days…blah blah blah.

The first contact Dean makes with Sam who left home to go to college is to recruit him to help find Dad—the same guy who told Sam that if he went away to stay away.

And then suddenly now that Sam is with him, finding Dad is like meh. If we find him somewhere by the wayside while you and I hunt monsters Sammy, then yeah sure, great.

If not…well….we have stuff to do you and I…saving people, hunting things. The family business. 

And John Winchester….well, what can I possibly say about him without taking up pages in ranting?! Why did he ditch the first monster? Why was he in SUCH a hurry to leave that he left his journal behind??

My theory of course is that he had to run away from the Woman in White since he had been unfaithful to Mary ( yes yes I know it had been YEARS at that point, but hello, this man made his life a crusade for revenge and sacrificed his kids’ lives also to that darkness, so…yes, being with Adam’s mother was an infidelity and you can’t change my mind on that !).

So naturally John was afraid he would be killed.

But still….he left coordinates for the next hunt in the journal and just ran off?!

The other question is what the hell is happening in motels across USA? Guys like these can just check- in on fake credit cards, leave a room full of satanic and serial killer-y documents, sometimes dead bodies, lots of salt at the door and windows, and just disappear without checking out….

Though the police do seem quite alert and swift in action in the Pilot compared to some of the laidback and clueless ones we see later.

What is most interesting is to see the character of season 1 Dean emerge.

He sass, he boss, he flirt, he lie, he charm, he fight, he save.

In fact, the very first time I saw Supernatural, it seemed that Dean occupied so much of the narrative space that I barely noticed Sam except as a foil to and a brother to Dean.

Now in the re-watch what is fascinating in retrospect is to watch Sam slide into ‘the life’ without a hiccup. He reads the journal, he figures out it’s a wendigo, he gets the civilians to cooperate, he also fights and saves.

And that look he gives Dean in the car?

Well, those who missed the signs in Pilot and didn’t ship Wincest from day one, surely started doing it then!

https://www.geekgirlauthority.com/supernatural-rewatch-s01e02-wendigo/

This is also the first episode that gives a clear parallel to the Sam and Dean relationship through the B plot. When Haley says she MUST go to find her brother –Dean nods in instant understanding while Sam is pissed off at having to ‘babysit.’

We see this in many more episodes in the future, and what is fascinating is to see Sam gain insights into his brother with every such parallel. To recognize what being the big brother has meant to Dean and how much he has done and given and even suffered for that. We will discuss this in more detail in the next episode review! ( Dead in the Water)

The chemistry and ease, almost a fluid sense of flow between the two actors is unmistakable in this episode. Even as Sam is really being a bitch and Dean is being a jerk, there is a definite undercurrent of something holding them together. It may be all about revenge for Jess’s death and finding Dad for Sam, but he will still stick with Dean and want to protect him as fiercely as Dean wants to protect Sam.

.

Sheila O’Malley has given a detailed explanation for the acting styles of Jared and Jensen and what she said about Jared is spot on and brilliant. He does what she calls active listening.

It is amazing how once you realize that you notice it all the time.

The reason why Dean can manage such perfect comedic timing or non- verbal communication is because Sam is always ALWAYS tuned into him. Listening, watching, reacting, observing.

Once again, for those of you interested in the meta and more erudite and informed reviews that this one 😊 do read what Sheila O’Malley has written.

Here are some excerpts which will entice you!

“David Nutter, who directed the pilot, also directed episode 2, and there’s a new DP here, the phenomenally talented Serge Ladouceur, who is still shooting the show. If the DP for the pilot, Aaron Schneider, helped establish the dark mood and horror-movie feel of the series, then Ladouceur just helped deepen and strengthen that continuum. The look of the show has changed, by Season 9. I would say that it has a more glamorous look now, more colorful, while certainly still very dramatic (even melodramatic). Supernatural is (and has been) one of the best looking shows on television.”

“The ranger comes in to talk to them, and they pose as environmental studies majors at the university in Boulder. Sam says they are “working on a paper”, clearly improvising, and you can watch the glorious schtick of Jensen Ackles as he adjusts to the new information of who he is supposed to be pretending to be. God is in the details, people, and it’s the detailed scene work of both Ackles and Padalecki that keeps this show going. David Nutter referred to Jensen Ackles once as a “meticulous actor” in terms of his preparation for every scene, no matter how small, and it pays off. He knows what the fuck he is doing. So does Padalecki. I couldn’t give two shits about the demons. It’s that DYNAMIC that is so entertaining and watch-able.”

 .

And here are some thoughts on the episode from @soulmates-for-real, my partner in crime for the rewatch 😊

Except the fact that Sam is quite secretive about his nightmares but his body language is quite open and his expressions easy to read. On the contrary, I saw Dean posturing a lot with other people, pouting, flirting, making eyes...trying to be all nonchalant. But when it comes to Sam we see a different Dean - the more antsy and angsty Sam gets, the more intensely Dean reacts to him and you can see Dean's concern shining through. Leading to Sam coming to some kind of resolution and giving Dean 'that look' at the end!