#supernatural djinn

[stargazedwinchester]

Would love to read Sam in a Djinn dream since I’ve struggled to understand his motivations. I haven't found even one fic like this. Thxs

Haunted ♡ Sam

Summary: Sam gets caught by a Djinn, dreaming of a life without you. Word Count: 1,912 I hope this is okay! Sorry it took a bit of time to get out! You can take this romantically or not; it's completely up to you. I tried to keep it generic in case it's not something you wanted <3 I believe this is the longest imagine I've written, which is crazy tbh Also I'm sorry for the British terms in this - idk what the Americanized versions are lol

You find that yourself and Sam are irreplacably close. You both grew up with similar childhoods, unknowingly setting yourselves up as life partners.

You practically did everything together, including spending a lot of time with Dean. He always thought that it was sweet that his baby brother had someone that would keep him occupied. Help him stay on the right path. In fact, having you around made things ten times easier. An extra pair of hands for research, hunting and a smart-ass mouth definitely assisted in getting answers out of people during hunts.

“So, get this,” Sam starts, your head peeking up from behind your newspaper. “Go on.” You urge him. It’s been a couple weeks without any work, and you can feel yourself tweaking from sitting still. Hunting is filthy, yet you crave it. It gives you a sense of purpose and knowing that you potentially save peoples lives fills a void in you that you didn’t know you had. The joys of working among the two best hunters alive also patches that void right up with pride.

“Mystery deepens as man goes missing.” Sam states, reading the headline from the newspaper he’s holding. You roll your wrist, pursing your lips, encouraging Sam to carry on. “Mystery follows suit as William Hardy, 33, goes missing after attending an afterparty. William left the nightclub and never returned home to his wife, Kate, 34.” Sam finishes, his shiny eyes gazing at you. “Right. Well, we have a possible case.” You stand up, tidying the books and papers into piles, sliding the books back onto their designated shelves. “Hold on, we can’t say this is for us or not.”

“Sammy,” you stand above him, and he looks up at you. “Man goes missing. Y/N goes investigate. Sam and Dean go with Y/N.” You nod, a playful smile on your face. Sam laughs at you. “Even if there is no case, at least it gets us out of the bunker. I’m bored as hell.”

Dean parked the Impala outside of a huge office firm. The brothers suited up and yourself in smart attire. As you exit the car, you look up at the building - glass completely covering the whole of it. The sun catching on each angle, making you squint your eyes. Maybe looking at the sun itself would be easier on the eyes.

You all enter the building, Dean asking for a Ms. Hardeker at the reception. They tell you to sit whilst she finds a moment to bring you into her office.

Upon entering, you notice her desk is a little messy. A tissue box that’s practically empty, pens sprawled out all over her desk and a couple laid on the floor. “Come, sit down, sit down.” She ushers you all to sit, and you do. Her eyes are tired and puffy. Kate’s hair slicked back in a bun, a few baby hairs poking out. Her formal appearance makes it seem like everything’s perfect. Kate sits down behind her desk, and her eyes sit upon you. You flash her a comforting smile before Dean sparks a conversation.

A couple of hours later, you leave the building retaining a lot of information about William. You scribbled down notes in your notebook to help you further the investigation when you get back to the bunker. You feel as though your mind is on overdrive, the empathy you feel toward Kate is unreal. You can’t imagine ever feeling the way she does.

Days later, you and the brothers head to William’s last known location, the bar. It’s crowded and blaring with live music. You feel the floor vibrate beneath you, shimmying through the crowd to get to the bar. Dean opens up a tab, allowing you to find a booth to sit together.

You notice Sam’s been quiet this entire time, his eyes kept to the ground. He swirls his whiskey in the glass, the liquid almost forming a tiny whirlpool. You watch him, and he glances up at you, displaying a light smirk. “You okay?” You mouth to him, and he nods. Something is eating at him, and he’s damn good at hiding it. Pulling out your notebook, you assume that Sam needs a distraction. “Okay, so,” you start, and their heads perk up. “From what we got, Will wouldn’t have gone far from here. If anything, he would’ve stepped out of here and it would’ve yanked him. The time that he left here versus the time Kate called his phone… she called six times with no answer.” You huff, looking over at Dean. He presses his lips together, his pupils focused on your notepad. “Then there’s no time to waste. Let’s find that son of a bitch.”

Upon leaving, the thumping of the music decreases and you feel like you can finally think again. The night sky is lightly decorated with stars, the moon shining like a huge hole piercing through the fabric of the sky. The soft moonlight reflects onto Sam’s hair, his cheekbone catching the moonlight as he looks over at you. You reach up and stroke his back with your thumb, quickly pulling him in for a side hug. He gazes down at you, planting a kiss atop your head. This was your favourite thing about being this close with Sam. You can get away with doing things like this without Dean making it weird. He knows how much you both mean to each other and, luckily; he sees it as you’re part of the family. At this point, you practically are.

Glancing over to your right, you notice a dingy alleyway with a slim, wooden door that seems like it leads to nowhere. You tap Dean on his bicep, ushering him to follow. Dean takes the lead as usual, scanning the back street for an extra lane to go down. But this time, it leads straight to the door. No sign, no people. It gets freakier by the second. You keep it hush, pressing your ear against the door.

Silence.

Dean turns the handle, the door opening almost without force. His forest eyes pin back at you, his eyebrows scrunched. Sam slips you out of the way, so he can be there to protect you in case someone - or something - jumps out at you. His broad frame completely shields yours. The building seems derelict but not abandoned. Lights flicker quickly and almost in a pattern, debris and dirt cover the place. There are tracks along the floor, leading around a corner that leads into a hallway. You pair up with Dean, whilst Sam investigates the hallway. A sense of hidden depth hangs heavy as you two claim the main floor. It’s hard to tell, but the whole place feels endless.

As Sam turns a corner into a new room, his flashlight quivers, the bulb dimming as he fully enters the room. He’s abruptly met with what looks like a human covered in dark tattoos from head to toe. Sam gasps at the sudden encounter, attempting to shield himself from being attacked. The tattoos on his skin glow an electric blue, the shade travelling across his entire face, lighting up his eyes. A neon blue flame arises from his hand. The djinn completely entrapped Sam, entrancing him into a dream-like state. Sam’s eyes roll back.

Sam wakes up in a fright. He’s back at the bunker, in his own bed. His damp back hints at a nightmare, though its cause eludes him. Sam runs his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. It’s not often he suffers with nightmares. Nothing major in his life had happened prior, which leaves him confused. Sam gets out of bed and clears his throat. He makes his way down the hall, passing your bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and he peeks inside. More often than not, you leave your door somewhat open, so either of the Winchesters know you’re awake. He pushes the door open, revealing an already made bed, none of your belongings or little trinkets on the shelves. Nothing. He furrows his brows, scanning the room as if he’s in the wrong room. Sam hears clanging coming from the kitchen, so he shuts the door and makes his way up to the main foyer.

“Y/N?” He calls, padding over to the kitchen. “Y/N?” He calls again, and Dean snorts. “Who’s that, Sammy? One of your lady friends?” He laughs, shoving his face full of eggs and bacon. “Wh- no, Dean. Where’s Y/N?” He asks, almost panicky. He examines the room for anything that simulates you. Dean watches him, puzzled. “Sam, who are you talking about? There’s no Y/N here.” He pauses, fork in hand. “Sammy, are you feeling okay?” Dean puts his fork down, hesitating whether to approach his brother. Sam stands there in disbelief, a lump forming in his throat.

“Y/N’s room isn’t there. Nothing of hers is there. You don’t even know who I’m talking about,” he rambles, running his hand through his hair again. His brain is in overdrive right now, and Dean’s eyes are locked on him. He takes cautious steps toward Sam. “Y/N isn’t here, Dean. Something’s wrong.”

Dean falters, his lip moving as if he wants to say something, but he’s unsure on exactly what. Sam’s fear stricken gaze locks with Dean’s uncertainty.

You plunge the silver dagger into the hip of the djinn, and he releases a bloodcurdling scream. The light covering his body blinks before submerging. The djinn’s body falls to the floor, and Sam lays unconscious. Dean rushes over to Sam, slapping his face lightly to attempt and wake him up. “C’mon, Sammy,” He grunts, pulling him up so he can rest against a wall. You kneel down beside Sam, fumbling as you pull out your handy flask. You unscrew the lid and pour water over his face, hoping that the icy feeling washes over him and that he wakes up. He doesn’t.

“Sam?” You whisper, caressing his face, hoping that light touches trigger something instead. Luckily, Sam awakens. “Oh, thank God,” You press your hand to your heart, you take his hand and he squeezes lightly. “Thought you were a goner,” you chuckle lightly, and Sam looks over at you. Dean stands up, collecting himself from what just happened. He rubs his hand over his stubble, one hand on his hip. Sam huffs, showing you a tiny smile. He’s pale and weak, so you offer him the rest of your water from the flask. “Are you okay?” You comfort him, stroking your hand on his shoulder. “Yeah. I’m grateful you’re here.” He swallows. “When he got me - when the djinn got me - he took me to a place where you didn’t exist.” Sam glances up at you with glossy eyes, and you’re unsure whether it’s from pain or he’s upset. “It, uh…” He stalls, and you sit patiently next to him, not rushing him.

“It really got to me, you know? You not being there in my life,” Sam pants, struggling to find the words. “You mean the world to me, Y/N. I hope you know that.” He says, pulling at your heartstrings. “More than you know. I mean it. I don’t say it enough.” He chuckles, and you grin. “I know you don’t.” You joke, and he playfully hits your arm. You help Sam to stand up, and he pulls you in to a bear hug. This hug means more than the rest of them.

[jarpadandjensens]

#SPNWEEK | day three | Classic SPN : Monster of the week

| Djinn

[strawlessandbraless]

You ever just think about how Dean would be Cas’s third wife?

[eetherealgoddess]

helloo, I just want to tell you I've been your fan since I downloaded tumblr. I can't, your fanfics are to die for. 😭 I'm sorry, I've been the one liking your stories from the start, I hope it doesn't bother you and I'm sorry if it does.

can I request a really really dark supernatural au smut bonten x fem reader? I can't explain how much I love your supernatural au fanfics😭

Although idk who you are specifically, I appreciate all your likes and the request so you don’t have to be sorry!! I embrace all feedback!! Unfortunately, I don’t think I made this dark enough, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! ♡︎♡︎♡︎

Y’all it’s wild cuz blood actually makes me queasy and uncomfortable. Especially gore and yet I write and read it even though I gotta pause to breathe from time to time lmao. This one is FULL of blood and gore. So be mindful!! ��ꨄꨄ

ꨄBlood Thirstyꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Djinn Au

❦Your blood is enticing to Bonten❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

The male leads are Djinn, based off of the show Supernatural, though I’ve created my own version for the story. I’ve never watched the show but I searched up supernatural monsters and found Djinn.

In this story, they’re tattooed beings who drink blood and eat flesh. They trap their victims by luring them with their glowing eyes that cause a hypnotic trance. Their tattoos will glow the same color as their eyes. They can only be killed with a silver knife laced with an antidote created by Djinn slayers.

Djinn are not mine nor is this the original type of creature. There’s also another definition that has nothing to do with the show so you should research that if you want to find out because I don’t have enough info on that to be able to explain it.

Not fully proofread

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Blood Thirsty

You were quiet, hand covering your own mouth as your eyelids flutter closed. You lean your back against the shelf of books, hiding in an aisle of the abandoned library as you sit with your knees to your chest. You contain your vomit as you listen to the sounds of your friend's flesh ripping apart, the blood splattering against the floors as the putrid smell of death reaches your nose. Your other hand is placed against your pounding heart as your body tenses, hair sticking up as you prevent yourself from having an anxiety attack.

Earlier, you and your friends had gone to a local nightclub just to get out and have fun. Because the night club is owned by Djinn yakuza members, it was a sacrificial night, the full moon being the reason for this massacre. A ritual that was made into an agreement between humans and Djinn. Djinn can survive off of animal prey, which is what they eat until the night it’s time to feed. You had no idea the building was owned by not only a criminal organization but Djinn creatures at that. Not until one of your friends said, “Who knew Djinn could give us such a great time?”

Apparently your other three friends didn’t know either, eyebrows furrowing when they heard the news. It was already dangerous to be out late at night since that’s when they prowl on a full moon, but to also attend a Djinn club is just asking to be somebody’s meal. You smacked her shoulder and asked, “Why did you bring us here knowing that it’s feeding night?”

“They’re hot!” She responds, “If they’re gonna be active tonight then I know I can score at least one in exchange for my blood!” The creatures are known to be attractive, adding to the hype of the tattooed beings. Unfortunately, your friend is so boy crazy that she’ll put everyone at risk just for a chance with a murderous creature.

You all escaped and ran as fast as you could when all hell broke loose, ending in this dark dusty library, choosing your spots to hide in. You knew you couldn’t stay in the same spot for long. You knew you were going to have to move before they stopped feeding. The blood curdling screams of your friends begin to quiet down as you look over to the original friend who put you all in this predicament. She sat at the aisle across from you, eyes wide as well as her own hand covering her mouth as her body trembled. You both eyed each other in terror before you motioned for the door opposite of the sound. It was a few aisles down. You both have the potential to make it as they continue to eat.

You nod at her before standing on your feet, crouching as you peeked behind your aisle, instantly regretting it as you turned back away from the gruesome scene. Holding your stomach you ease your way to the other side of the aisle in front of you, hands trembling as you hold your breath once pausing, listening for any movement towards you. When all you heard was the usual ripping and bone cracking you turned to look at your friend who's following behind on her own side. You both move again and again until you finally make it out of the door, sprinting down the hall until you make it outside.

Your original plan was to keep running until you didn’t hear your friend behind you, turning around you noticed her standing in place, staring to the side.

“F/n! F/n! Come on!” You call out to her, confused as to why she stopped.

“But he’s so pretty.” She says breathlessly, her eyes beginning to glow purple.

You follow her sight, startled when you notice the shirtless man with a large tattoo on the left side of his torso, as well as a symbol on his neck. His purple mullet flowing in the wind as he stands across from her, eyes and tattoos glowing purple. Blood stained his mouth as well as his chest, his hands dripping with the substance as he licked some of the liquid off his fingers. You turn away as you grab her face, turning her to face you.

“Wake up! Wake up now! We’re gonna be killed!” You shake her face as her mouth hangs open, slobber dripping as you shift your gaze back to the male who stood still. You know you should leave her, but you can’t. You know it’s her fault, as well as yours for even being out in the first place on a night like this. Tears fall down your eyes as you contemplate whether or not to leave her to die. The only way she can be pulled out of the trance is by the Djinn releasing her or death.

You could be a savior and offer yourself up, but fear overtook your senses. You couldn’t possibly save her, so you decide to make a run for it while you still can, releasing her face. Before you could run, claws wrap around your wrist, yanking you back as you fall on the grass, bottom making contact with the ground as another tattooed being crouches over you. You noticed the yellow glow against the tiger symbol on his neck as well as the symbol that matches with the purple eyed Djinn on the right side of his chest.

His smile was as cold as his golden gaze, eyes refrained from glowing as he stared down at your fearful face. Blood covered his torso as well as his hands. You could see that his teeth were also stained with red as his smile widened.

“Where do ya think you’re going?”

You could only stare back at his face before you looked over to your friend, your hand reaching out in reflex as you called out to her when she walked over to the male. A hand on your chin forces you to turn your attention back to the brunette with blonde strands hanging over his face.

“Hey! Pay attention to me. I asked you a question.” He eyes you with an irritated gaze, causing you to yelp when he squeezes your chin tightly, claws poking your skin.

“Playing with your food, Kazu?” Another shirtless man walks toward the two of you from inside the building, fresh blood covering his mouth as well as his whole torso while the large tattoo on the right side of his body as well as the one on his neck glows purple.

He stops next to you both, sniffing the air as he eyes you and your friend with a lazy smile.

“Are you radiating that sweet scent, darling?”

“N-no! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You say as you pull back from the man’s grip.

The purple eyed man’s fingers met his chin. “Hm. Of course you don’t. You smell it?” He faces the crouching man.

“Yeah. That’s what brought me over here. Never smelled blood like that before.” The tiger symboled man pushes himself from the ground, standing over you as their intense gazes study you like you’re a new specimen.

Your eyebrows furrow as you notice their eyes becoming dim, faces turning red as they hold dazed looks on their faces.

“Man, your smell is intoxicating.” Kazutora breathes out, chest rising as he drags a large sniff of the air.

“Maybe we should preserve this one, yeah?” The short haired man suggests.

“You think boss’ll allow it?” Kazutora questions.

“Allow what?” A pink haired man entered the scene, walking until he reached the two men standing above you. His hair covered in blood as well as his face, hands, and chest, as if he rubbed himself against the liquid while feeding. You eye the blue glow of his wrist, the symbol matching the iciness of his piercing eyes. He sniffed the air, facing you as he observed your figure. Bending over, he grabs your arm, pulling you up on your feet and smelling the limb.

His face instantly warms, eyes dazed as he continues to sniff the sweet aroma, using a hand at the back of your neck to pull you closer as he nuzzles your neck. You put your hands on his chest as you pushed yourself away, his hand preventing you from moving as you struggled in his grasp.

“What is that?” He pulls back, turning to the others as he releases your neck only to keep a hold of your arm.

Kazutora shrugged. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

You hear the sound of flesh ripping along with a familiar scream of pain. Turning your head, you eye the gruesome sight. The man has your friend’s detached arm in his hand. A big gash is left where her arm used to be as her legs tremble, her eyes staying wide as they continue to glow purple. Blood drips from the wound as he bites into the flesh of the arm, more blood staining his mouth as he moans while satisfying his hunger.

Your hands shake as you eye the display in horror, tears streaming down your face as you watch your last friend become a beast’s meal. Instincts going haywire, you wanted to run away, but if you did, you knew you’d be easily captured by the Djinn considering their abilities. They have the upper hand against the human species. You’ve always wondered why they didn’t just take over. You could only stand there amongst the men, feeling helpless, weak, and vulnerable. It disgusted you to be so human in this predicament. You were going to die and you had no choice but to accept it.

“Awe, she’s crying. I think you’re hurting her arm, Sanzu.” Kazutora jokes, pointing at your tears. You ignored him as you turned your head away from your friend who’s shoulder just got bitten off, using both of your hands to cover your ears, the sound driving you crazy.

Sanzu releases you just in time for you to lean over and vomit. Bile burning your throat as you gag and dry heave.

“Disgusting.” Sanzu hissed as he walked towards the purple mullet. Kazutora leaned over with his hands on his knees.

“It’s amazing how you still smell sweet. There’s no way boss won’t take you home with us.” He beams.

“He does have a thing for sweet things.” Ran states with a cigar in his mouth, sparking it before shoving the lighter in his pants pocket.

A short man walks out of the building, the men immediately turning their attention to him. The atmosphere darkens almost as much as the voids you’d call his eyes. He gave you an icy glare, causing a rapid chill to run up your spine as well as sending alerts to your instincts. Your body tenses as he comes closer. You hear him sniffing, eyeing the blood on his mouth as well as on his chest, bloody claws by his sides. He stops in front of you, gazing into your soul as you shift in discomfort.

His gaze slightly softens as the familiar red hue forms on his face, panting softly as he drags more of your fumes through his nostrils. You eye the blood staining his platinum hair, the stench of flesh and blood surrounding you. His palm rests on the side of your neck for a moment before he uses a claw to nick the skin, slicing a small cut in between your neck and shoulder causing you to flinch. He leans in, warm breath grazing your neck before his tongue slithers against your wound. His sunken eyes widen as his hands grab your shoulders, pulling you in as you place your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away before you yelp from the fangs piercing through your skin.

He gulps your blood down, moaning against you as you fall backwards. He lands on top of you, a hand sliding behind your neck while the other balances next to your head. Your hands grip his shoulders as your eyes shut tightly in pain. You hiss and whimper under him as the others, including Sanzu and Rin, watch as if they’re in their own trance. He finally pulls his teeth out of your neck before he grips the back of your neck tightly as he nuzzles against the wound. Your blood rubs along his face as he engulfs himself. He breathes your scent in deeply before pulling back.

He pants as he sits on top of you with intense eyes. You avoid eye contact by looking at your own blood covering the hand that felt the moisture from your neck. Your hand trembles as you look at the men who stood around you. He stands up and walks away from you. He flicks his head, motioning for them to grab you. When you see this, your fight or flight kicks in causing you to hop up and run. The only place you could go was the forest but if you stayed hidden there until the sun rose, they would have to let you go in order to not break the treaty.

“So she wants a chase?” Rin questions with a smirk as all the executives stand and watch you run.

“Bind her and bring her to the car when you’re done.” Mikey says before he hops into the car.

With a wide grin that shows their sharp stained teeth, the four men began to sprint after you, Ran dropping the cigar in the process.

You run as fast as you can, grunting and breathing hard as your heart pounds. Your chest tightens as the pain in your legs form fast from running at a speed you’ve never had to run. You hop off of mini hills as well as passing many trees. The only light allowing you to see in the moonlight shining through the leaves. You just had to find a hiding spot to survive the night. You wouldn’t have run into the forest if they weren’t blocking your way. You knew you couldn’t pass them.

You groan as the pain becomes almost unbearable, the tightening of your body making it harder to breathe. You knew you’d have to stop soon but your adrenaline is pumping and you refuse to let them catch you. At least not easily. You thank the heavens that you hadn’t worn heels, the platforms of your shoes smacking against the grassy terrain, attempting to not fall on loose twigs or branches. As you run, you also gaze around for any mud to prevent yourself from sliding on it.

You pant, mouth wide open as you peek behind you. Seeing nothing there you continue to run as you look for the perfect hiding place. If you were being honest with yourself, there’s a low chance of surviving without being caught. They probably know exactly where you are and just allow you to run because they like to play with their prey. You’re not dumb. You were just scared. You had to try. Before you could plant your feet into the ground, you run into a figure in front of you, slamming into them.

Your friend's blood stains your clothes, mixing in with your own as the man wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in as he leans over to smell your blood.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met.” A hand covers your mouth, blocking your scream. You’re forced to turn the other way, your back against his chest as he holds you in place. The other men stood in front of you in a curve, staring you down with glowing eyes.

“I don’t think I want to put her in a trance. I like it when they fight.”

“I want a taste. Mikey made you look so good.”

Suddenly, fingers connect with your chin, moving your head to the side as the person in front of you sniffs before leaning into the spot Mikey focused on.

A long tongue glides against your neck, the short haired man moaning softly before his teeth sinks in. You yelp in pain as another bite comes from behind, the man’s younger brother getting his own taste from the other side of your neck. The arm around your waist tightens you in place. You smack Ran’s shoulder as you try to push him away, tears rolling out of your eyes at the pain.

“You guys are hogging her all to yourself.” Kazutora states before snatching one of your arms. He bites into your forearm, eyes widening when the blood hits his taste buds, eagerly draining you. Sanzu does the same to the other arm, shutting his eyes as he drinks from you. You could only cry out in agony as they drain from you. Your body weakens as well as you becoming light headed. This goes on until you begin to see stars, your vision blurring. They pull away from you just in time before you faint, your body weak against the man behind you as you lean back.

Suddenly, your bottom met the ground as the man sitswith his back leaned against the tree. You begin to feel kisses littering all over your neck, lips hitting the blood that continues to ooze out.

“You taste so fucking good.” He whispers as he licks the liquid. Your eyelids are heavy as you sit barely awake. It feels like your black out drunk, going in and out of consciousness from whatever was spiked in it.

You look into the eyes in front of you, the person kneeling before you as two palms hold your cheeks, lips meeting yours as you’re forced to kiss the man. You couldn’t even flinch when he nipped your lip, blood drawing from you as you sat weakly.

“Let me go.” You whisper against his lips, not having enough strength to say much in a louder tone. He pulls back as he smirks.

“Go where? You can’t even walk.” Sanzu says as he crouches beside you, eyeing the wound on your neck and using his fingers to force you to turn towards him.

The red hue is still stuck on all of their faces, dazed eyes as if they’re intoxicated by your scent.

“I wonder what your thighs taste like.” The golden eyed man states before kneeling and pulling your leg open. He leans over and begins licking and sucking your thigh before sinking his teeth in. Another grunt leaves out of your mouth from the pain.

“I wonder how you taste down here.” A hand coming from behind slips into your pants as you try to wiggle out of his grip.

“Stop! Don’t touch me!” You cry out angrily. The hand dips into your panties, slowly rubbing up your slit before landing on your clit.

“I bet your cum is as sweet as your blood, huh?” The man behind you chuckles as he rolls his finger against your clit.

“I think we should find out.” His brother adds on, smiling as they nod at each other. Kazutora moves away from your thigh as he wipes his mouth, licking the blood he wiped from the back of his hand.

Rin pulls his hand out of your pants before reaching under your thighs and pulling them as far back as he could. Ran uses a claw to cut a slit from the zipper of your pants down to your ass. He tears a hole into the pants, stretching them to get a good view of your panties.

“No! Stop right now! Please!” Your head falls back on Rin’s shoulder weakly as you use your hands to cover yourself. Sanzu grabs them, securing your wrists above your head.

Ran leans over as he slices through the middle of your panties. He closes in and takes a big whiff of your vagina. Using two fingers, he gently spreads your lips apart with one hand while the thumb on his other hand pulls the hood of your clit back, revealing the bud.

“What a pretty pussy.” You twitch slightly as you feel a blow of air on your clit.

Your face warms up when you feel his lips grazing your clit, leaving a soft kiss on the bud. He does it once more and then again as he looks at you with intense eyes. You bite your lip, sucking your teeth as you turn away, only for Sanzu to use one hand to force you to look up at him. Leaning over with one hand still gripping your wrists, his lips meet yours. Rin keeps your legs pulled back, piercing his claws into your skin to draw some blood, watching as you flinch in pain, all the while Ran licks up your clit before he gives a few more kitten licks. Finally, he closes his mouth around the bud, sucking and flicking his tongue as he dives in.

Kazutora, who's still kneeling on the ground, licks up the blood dripping from your thighs. You whimper against Sanzu’s mouth.

“I think we should put the bind in between her breasts.” Rin says as you jolt from Ran’s tongue. Sanzu pulls back.

“We should put it on her face, that way everyone knows who she belongs to.”

Kazutora pulls back. “But she has such a pretty face, I don’t want to mark it.”

Ran continues to suck your clit as he lowers his head to lick some of your slick from the hole itself, his long tongue pushing inside as he uses a finger to rub your clit. He doesn’t pay much attention to the conversation, too obsessed with drinking your juices as your pussy contracts. Your head falls back with your eyes shut tight.

“Fine. Take her arms.” Kazutora grabs your arms as he stands up, Sanzu kneeling to tear the middle of your top open, revealing the lack of bra.

“Wow, you were already ready.” Kazu beams.

Sanzu sticks out a claw as his eyes glow, along with his tattoo. The beam reaches his hand as the claw meets with your skin, Rin holding you tighter as you scream in pain. The claw penetrates your skin as it drags into the shape of their Bonten symbol, blood dripping down as you struggle in his grip.

“Stop! Stop! It fucking hurts!” You cry out, your own nails digging into the skin of your palms. Kazutora forces you to turn to him with one hand, trapping your screams with an open mouthed kiss.

The contrast of pain between your chest and pleasure from your pussy shamefully causes you to near your orgasm as Ran tongue fucks you and rolls a finger around your bud. Your pussy drips with juice as your body convulses, just in time for the bind to complete as it glows a blue color that swirls into all of their signature colors before it resembles a normal tattoo. You yell out as you finally reach your limit, creaming on his face as he laps up the juice. Not long after, you finally pass out from all the overwhelming sensations.

[italwayshadtobeyou]

[embraceyourdestiny]

"Cassiel is depicted in Francis Barrett's The Magus as a dragon-riding djinn with a beard"

I dont have any strong feelings about destiel at the moment, but i cant lie, learning that the angel Cassiel Castiel is based off of was depicted as a djinn, and knowing that a djinn has such significance to Dean's character/life, that would def be fuel to the fire if i shipped

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Maybe I’m the odd one out here but What is and What Should Never Be always absolutely destroys me. I weep for almost the entire episode.

Dean has a home. He has someone who loves him. His life is normal and safe. And I cry.

The way he looks at Mary when he sees her for the first time. The way he nearly crumbles when she says “I told you angels were watching over you”. And then he hugs her with everything he has. He’s so happy to be back with him mom, back in his childhood home. His mom makes him lunch and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He gets to mow the lawn like a normal person. The trunk of his car isn’t full of weapons. He’s just ordinary, and he’s so happy about it. So I cry.

And the way he hugs Jess? He only ever met the girl once but he knows how much she means to Sam. And he knows that losing her almost killed his brother. And so he hugs her as tight as he can, because he’s so thrilled that she’s alive and Sam is happy. And I cry.

But what also kills me is the way that Sam and his mom talk about Dean. They’re always asking if he’s been drinking. They’re suspicious of all of his actions and his affections. Maybe the version of Dean from this life wasn’t exactly on the straight and narrow, but they talk about him like he’s a deadbeat. So I cry.

Jesus Christ, and when Dean goes to talk to his dad at the cemetery?

“It's like my old life is… is coming after me or something. Like it like it doesn't want me to be happy. Course I know what you'd say. Well, not the you that played softball but... "So go hunt the Djinn. He put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest. Right?" But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? What about us, huh? What, Mom's not supposed to live her life? Sammy's not supposed to get married? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad?”

He doesn’t say “why can’t I have the life I want?” Sure, he asks why he has to be a hero. But he makes it more about Sam and his mom. Because he wants them to have the lives they deserve. And this moment just gives us another look at what a bastard John was. Dean knew how dismissive and rude John would be. He knew that John would never choose his own son’s happiness over the lives of strangers. And he’d probably scream at Dean for even considering the “selfish” option. The way Dean says that his old life doesn’t want him to be happy also kills me. Because it’s like, no matter where he goes or what he does, he’s destined for misery. So I sob.

And so Dean goes to hunt the Djinn. He chooses the lives of others over everything, like he always does. And he realizes his new life isn’t real. He realizes he’s been unconscious this entire time, and that Jess is dead. His mom is dead. Carmen doesn’t really exist. And I cry.

So he’s ready to kill himself, but the way that his family tries to convince him to stay?

Oh my god. Spiegel im Spiegel starts playing, and Sam asks “why’d you have to keep digging?”

Mary tells him to put the knife down. She says it doesn’t matter that this life isn’t real, it’s still better than anything he had before. And that yeah, in real life, he will die in a few days. But it will feel like years. And there will be “No more pain. Or fear. Just love and comfort. And safety,” none of which Dean has in his real life

But Dean still chooses to return to his life, because he cares more about our saving people than he does about his own happiness.

And he tells Sam about the fake life the djinn created for him. About how Sam was happy with Jess. And their mom was going to have grandchildren. Sam commends him for having the strength to fight it, to leave it behind. And Dean says, “But I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay so bad. I mean, ever since Dad... all I c– all I can think about is how much this job's cost us. We've lost so much. We've... sacrificed so much.”

and it’s like, damn. Why can’t Dean ever be truly happy? Cause even in this “happy” version of his life, everything was tinged with pain and sadness and grief. And I just wish he could get a break. So I cry and cry and cry and cry.

[wolfsetfree-if]

The absolute, visceral rage that took over Bela when they saw the Djinn master pet Omega!MC was something they hardly ever experienced before

[mecthology]

The Wadi-e-Jinn.

Deep in the Saudi Arabian desert, hidden in that dry wasteland, is Wadi-e-Jinn, the Valley of Jinn—a spooky, mysterious place. At first, it looks like any other dead valley, but something's weird. Nature's rules seem to change there. Locals say it's powerful jinn, ancient invisible beings who've owned that land for ages.

Many visitors have reported unsettling experiences, such as hearing whispers on the wind, as if the air itself were alive with voices. In 2010, a group of Bedouin travelers passed through the valley and had an inexplicable experience. One of their camels wandered into Wadi-e-Jinn and vanished without a trace. Despite an extensive search, the camel was never found. The events of that day in the valley remain a chilling and mysterious enigma.

[desdasiwrites]

"You! You can’t just walk in here! This is a crime scene!”

“That would explain the dead bodies, then,” she replied. He blinked dumbly, and she sighed. Wasting good sarcasm was annoying.

– P. Djèlí Clark, A Master of Djinn

[the--karkats--pajamas]

I’m absolutely not the first person to say this but I’m saying it.

Dean got exactly what he’s always wanted. He died on a hunt, went out swinging. Went to heaven but it’s sorta different than regular heaven. His brother got to leave hunting, live a normal life, complete with vague blurry wife and named his kid after Dean. He got some equally vague confirmation that Cas is back but he didn’t have to see him and experience the consequences of his confession. He sees his brother again in heaven.

What I’m saying is season 16 could open with Sam saving Dean from a djinn.

[shieldofiron]

Billy Hargrove’s Haunted Bong

For Harringrove Week March 29, Happy Billyday! Also on AO3 Here.

Specific Dialogue: “You don’t know what you put me through.”

NSFT-ish, just at the end.

Steve feels a little awkward picking through Billy Hargrove’s stuff. His dad’s gone, and now Max and her Mom are moving, they need to get rid of the excess, he knows that. There’s some of Billy’s dad’s stuff here, too, though a lot of it has been picked over by the neighborhood moms, trying to get shoes for their husbands and stuff.

There’s less of a market for teenage boy stuff, though Tommy has a few button downs slung over his arm, and apparently Max unloaded a bunch of Billy’s tapes on ‘The Freak’ Eddie Munson.

Steve is really here more as a favor to Max. He doesn’t know what he would do with a Scorpions t-shirt, or a stack of books. Who knew that Billy read so much, anyway?

Max walks over and crosses her arms, “Hey. Want you to see something.”

He shrugs, tossing the paperback he was never going to buy back in a pile, “Ok.”

Max leads him up the stairs and into the half packed house and into a mostly empty room. There’s a bed that’s been stripped, and a small cardboard box, open and half full on it. Steve catches a glimpse of a few tapes inside, and a handful of clothes. Maybe it’s stuff they’re saving.

Max holds up two cans of Aquanet, “Do you want these? I’ll give them to you for a dime.”

Steve fights to keep his face neutral, “Uh, not my brand. But thanks.”

“How about this?” She holds up a bottle of cologne, Paco Rabanne.

He shrugs, “Sure. How much?” This is probably fine, a non-weird thing to get, anyway.

“Uh... a quarter?” She says distractedly while he glances down to dig in his pocket for change. “And what about this?”

He looks up and almost chokes on his spit. It is without a doubt the biggest bong he’s seen in person.

“Put that down!” He says.

She scowls, “What’s your problem?”

“N-nothing. Didn’t Eddie want that?” Steve really would feel better if she put it down. Maybe stepped away from it too.

“He took the other one,” She shrugs, “Why? What’s wrong with it? It’s just a vase.”

Right. Just a vase.

He snatches it from her hands, just wanting to get it out of the house, “How much?”

“Uh... a dollar. No! Two dollars!” She cries.

He rolls his eyes, because this thing is probably expensive as shit, but he just wants it out of her house.

“Sure,” He pulls a couple of bucks out of his wallet, “I’ll see you, okay?”

She nods, counting the money, “You want your change?”

“No, nope, just gonna head right home,” And smash this thing to pieces, he thinks.

He hops in the beemer, throwing his vase across the passenger’s seat along with the cologne. It really is enormous, blue swirling glass that would be kind of pretty if it wasn’t dirty with old bong water and stuff.

“Never let it be said I never did anything for you, Hargrove,” He grumbles, eyes searching the road wildly.

He turns the corner off Cherry Lane, shaking his head.

“I mean, whatever. I didn’t like... jump in front of a monster. Though I did. For Max, I mean,” He tightens his hands on the wheel, “Whatever. You know what I mean.”

He glances down at the bong and the cologne.

He shakes his head, “You would think I was high already.”

The bong glints in the afternoon sunlight, reflecting the blue skies out the window and the slowly turning leaves.

“You know my birthday is tomorrow,” Steve says, to no one. “I guess I could have one smoke. Just to see what I’m missing.”

The sunlight glints, and it’s almost like a wink.

He’s going crazy, that’s the only explanation for why he heads home and takes the bong into his house instead of throwing it away. He dumps the old water in the sink, trying to take it apart so he can rinse it out. He might actually catch some kind of disease smoking out of this thing, considering Billy died in July and it’s halfway through January.

He shakes his head at himself, dunking the bong into the water and rubbing the side, trying to take off the film of hairspray and weed smoke that’s formed a crust along the sides. Probably he won’t smoke from it. It’s a lost cause.

The bong trembles in his hands and he rears back into the kitchen island, soapy water splashing everywhere. Blue smoke comes from the top, pale denim blue that swirls in the air and shifts and then...

Billy fucking Hargrove is sitting on the edge of his kitchen sink.

He looks much the same as he always did, shirtless, tanned and perfect with a necklace glinting from his chest. Winking in the sunlight.

“Harrington,” He says with a smile.

“H-holy shit.” Maybe Steve is high. How did he get this high and he doesn’t even remember smoking?

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Billy’s eyes sparkle, electric blue. Were they always that blue, glowingly blue? They look like Kyle McLaughlin’s eyes in that freaky movie Dustin dragged Steve to a few weeks ago.

“This is not happening,” Steve shakes his head, “This isn’t happening.”

Billy laughs, full and open, and then the blue smoke is back, smelling like Paco Rabanne and cigarettes and Aquanet, swirling through the air.

“What do you wish for, Pretty Boy?” Billy’s voice sounds like it’s coming from  right in Steve’s ear, but when he looks, the Billy on his counter is just smiling mischievously.

“Uhhh...”

Billy disappears and the smoke surrounds Steve. He clings to the countertop, the only thing that feels solid. Smoke slides along his face and arms, like a caress.

“Make a wish,” Billy’s voice beacons, “Birthday Boy.”

“I-if I blow hard enough, will you disappear?” Steve mumbles, not sure what kind of weird dream this is.

“If you blow?” Billy whispers, his tongue sliding along his lower lip teasingly.

“What are you?”

“You’ve never heard of a genie? Djinn is more accurate,” Billy’s voice is behind him now, along the back of Steve’s neck, sending goosebumps down his spine. Billy hums and it takes Steve a few moments before he picks out the theme to I Dream of Jeannie. “Should I call you, Master?”

“It’s not real,” Steve half laughs, “You died. I saw you die.”

“Where did the body go, Harrington? Disappeared... like smoke...” Billy appears in front of him, sudden and solid, “Poof.”

“You’re not a genie, though,” Steve shakes his head, “They aren’t real.”

“Try me, Harrington,” Billy smiles, eyes blazing.

“Uh...” Steve blinks at Billy’s face, so very close. He’s had dreams like this. Billy Hargrove, close and within reach, kind and laughing and oh so kissable.

“Go on,” Billy’s chin juts forward, and its so much like Steve’s dreams, he gives in. Maybe it is a dream. A weird one, but one of his regular dreams.

“Is it a three wishes kind of deal?” He asks.

Billy shrugs, “Dunno. I came to in a van full of shouting Russians who shoved green liquid down my throat. And then smoke poured out of my mouth, my ears, my eyes, and I turned into... this. Tried to go home, get Max’s attention. But then I got sucked into that thing when I got too close.”

Steve stares at him, at his lips actually. Is it nighttime already, or is it just the smoke swirling around?

“S.S. Butterscotch,” He mumbles.

“What?”

“I want a scoop of Scoops Ahoy S. S. Butterscotch,” Steve chokes, “Haven’t had it since the mall... uh...”

Billy puts a hand behind his back and winks at Steve, sending an electric bolt of lust down his spine.

“Your wish is my command,” Billy pulls his hand out and there’s a waffle cone stacked with a single scoop of S. S. Butterscotch, as smooth and round as if Steve had done it himself.

Billy raises it up to Steve’s lips, his eyes going dark and cloudy blue when Steve licks along the top. A shiver runs down his spine from the top of his head, making his knees weak.

“Oh, Harrington. You don’t know what you put me through,” Billy smiles, “Never thought I’d see you again. Never.”

Steve blinks, his mouth swirling with the flavor he’s been craving since Starcourt.

Steve finally manages to dig his claws out of the counter and reaches out, knocking the cone to the side. Well, it’s his dream. He might as well get to do what he wants.

Billy Hargrove tastes like woodsmoke and butterscotch and he groans into Steve’s mouth like he’s real, like he’s oh so human again.

Blue smoke trails up Steve’s spine like a featherlight touch, and he trembles, falling forward, hands digging into Billy’s hair. He’s always dreamed about boys and girls, he’s always had a lot of sex dreams, but they never felt like this.

Billy’s chest is warm, though there’s no heartbeat. But his tongue is wet and wicked and alive, and tendrils of smoke are curling against Steve’s overheated skin while Billy’s fingers dig into his hips. Holy shit.

Steve groans when Billy begins to slowly drag his hands to the placket of Steve’s jeans, teasing along the buttons. His tongue is teasing the inside of Steve’s lips, turning all of his thoughts to liquid lust.

Then Billy disappears into smoke and laughter, and invisible hands trail along Steve’s cock, under his jeans... through his jeans...

“Oh fuck,” Steve gasps, hips working. “Don’t stop.”

“Feel good?” Billy’s voice is somewhere on the ceiling.

“Fuck, yes, B-Billy... fuck...”

“Wanna make you feel so good,” Billy says softly, his voice crackling like a flame, “Wanna make you cream your jeans.”

Steve is embarrassingly close to that already, “R-Revenge?”

“For all the times you turned me on in class? No. But good guess,” Billy practically purrs when a smoky finger flicks the head of Steve’s cock and Steve cries out.

Steve gasps, “T-then...”

“Haven’t touched anyone in six months,” Billy laughs, and it echoes off all the polished surfaces of the Harrington’s pristine kitchen. “And you’re so touchable.”

Steve closes his eyes before they roll back in his head and makes an inarticulate noise, “Fuck, Billy... I’m... I’m... g-gonna...”

Billy’s corporeal in a moment, hand pressed over the invisible fingers, pressing Steve’s cock hard into his stomach, a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Come on, Pretty Boy. Get there.”

Steve’s orgasm bursts through him like a wildfire, and he screams into Billy’s shoulder, pressing his mouth against flexing muscle in a vain attempt to silence himself. Blood roars in his ears and he passes out into Billy’s waiting arms. He half expects to go right through them, but they catch him, sure and steady.

When he wakes up, his eyes are blurry and his body is blissed out, floating like it hasn’t since Starcourt. He sits up in his bed and looks around the room but there’s no one there.

Oh shit. It really was a dream. He bites down the bitterness and looks down at the bed beside him.

It’s the bong, gleaming and blue, glass colors swirled together like smoke. The morning light glints off the edge. Like a wink.

“Good morning, pretty boy,” The voice rumbles through the room and Steve closes his eyes. Wishes he was dreaming.

[vesperscas]

DEANCAS⏤ MAKING A GARDEN/ COMING HOME

to love and to be loved is to rest, howelljenkins // andrew garfield's search for the sublime, gq magazine // snow and dirty rain, richard siken // oxygen, mary oliver // i can hear the world going on outside, sue zhao // tombstone, 13x6 script // andrea del sarto, robert browning

[mmaeeve]

daily dean quote #153/366:

“there’s no place like home…”

- season 2, episode 2, what is and what should never be

[aut2imagineart]

I'm wanting to draw more characters from my latest idea 'Celeste the Witch' and their relationship with Celeste herself. Because she was mentioned in my previous post featuring Celeste, I'm starting with her Great Aunt Amiya (Grant Amiya for short). She's a bubbly genie who runs a local clothing store and creates her own clothing line though a combination of hand tailoring and magic.

In story, Celeste was homeschooled most of her life so to interact with more of her peers she's attending her last year of high school at a coastal town that's mostly inhabited by supernatural creatures. During said school year she's staying with Grant Amiya and this piece depicts a scene of Celeste first arriving at her house. Though Celeste loves her great aunt, Amiya's affections and desire to try her new clothes on her could be a bit much for Celeste at times.

Expect more of these character interactions with Celeste peppered throughout the year.

As always, comments and critiques are welcome.

[pussypopstiel]

Sometimes i forget that supernatural has a monster called a djinn and when i remember its like i completely forget my own cultural relationship with djinns because they are such completely different things