![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darkhavensAuthor: darkhavens
Title: His Brother, His God, His Own.
Fandom: Pairing: Supernatural: Evil!Dean/Demon!Sam
Rating: NC-17 for graphic violence and sexual content
Words: 780 words
Spoilers: Non-specific references to events in S4
Concrit: Please. If you spot a typo or grammar goof, feel free to tell me in comments.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Incest, graphic violence, evil dudes having fun, secondary character death
Summary: That which is heard cannot be unheard
Notes: Written for a prompt found at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic. The prompt was by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
katbcoll - SPN, Evil!Dean/Demon!Sam, Magically delicious. I hope I didn't disappoint. The first story written in the Medlar!verse.
The opening line was spoken by YED in 2x22 - All Hell Breaks Loose.
”How certain are you that what you brought back is one hundred percent pure Sam?”
That which is heard cannot be unheard, though Dean does give it his best shot. He tries to forget, to ignore the doubts, but he can’t stop watching Sam from the corner of his eye. Can’t stop comparing this Sammy to the boy he grew up with, to the last time - the only time - he was possessed. By a girl. Heh.
There’s nothing there, or at least nothing that can’t be explained by other means. Sam lets him get away with a lot of hinky shit these days; lets him play the ‘Dude, I’m gonna die soon,’ card, without a single complaint. Hell, more than once it’s been Sam’s idea to slow down for a little R&R; his idea to play voyeur to Dean’s eager exhibitionist, the girl of the moment the unwitting star of their odd, twisted little play.
The closer it gets to the day of reckoning, the more reckless Dean gets, and Sam just smiles and fails and fails and fails again to drag a deal-defying Hail Mary from his magic bag of research tricks.
If Dean didn’t know - believe - better, he’d think Sam wasn’t really trying all that hard to keep him out of Hell. He has faith right to the end, until the Hell Hounds are playing tug-o-war with his intestines.
The last thing he sees is the satisfied smirk on Sam’s black-eyed face.
#
It still takes the best and the brightest – the worst and the darkest – almost forty years of the sickest shit the Pit has to offer to get him broken to Sam’s specifications. And then Sam brings him back.
#
Sam calls his army together in the Badlands; dispenses orders, death and duty with an iron will. Dean is always at his side – faithful second, loyal brother, the sweetest fuck.
Dissent is whispered in the ranks about Dean’s meteoric, nepotistic rise to power at the end of Sam’s dick, but not for long. Dean shares his teachings from the Pit with those who doubted, embellishing with tricks his daddy taught him, the Winchester way. He’s a natural, and he glories in his play – it’s too much fun to call it work. He knows exactly how to keep a demon trapped inside its meat suit, enduring tortures of the damned they thought they’d left behind.
When sheets of skin and clumps of viscera are strung from stunted trees, and chunks of flesh are painting rusty smears on pale, striated rock – when Sam has let Dean know he’s satisfied – Dean stops.
He slouches back to Sam, dark eyes locked on his, fingers tipped with gore he licks off slowly as he moves, all flickering tongue and hollowed cheeks as he fellates them in a silent open promise to his brother, his god, his own.
Once they’re standing toe to toe, he drops, graceful, to his knees, mouthing Sam’s iron-hard erection through the butter-soft denim of his painted-on one thousand dollar ripped up jeans.
The army sees subservience but Sam knows better. He knows that Dean’s on his knees because he wants to be – because he can be – now he’s free of shame and guilt and human morals. Sam also knows that Dean can give as good as he can take – can fuck the blackness from Sam’s eyes when he wants to.
#
They try to bring Bobby over; let him know that he’s still a treasured member of the family, but he stands firm. Sam tells Dean to make it fast, and he’s dead before the first drop of blood hits the floor. An easy end. Other hunters needn’t hope for the same benevolence.
The salvage yard explodes in a tightly focused storm of sulphur yellow, sodium blue and blood-red pirouettes of living, dancing, greedy conflagration. Sam and Dean are on the edge of it, their skin turning tight and dry as they trade brutal kisses between cracked and bleeding lips. They watch the car shells turn to ash, to slag and noxious gas, and rut like dogs in the flickering smoke.
They’re healed again and on the move before sunrise, Impala purring with inhuman-tuned perfection. One of Sam’s most recent acolytes wears a meat suit that’s in charge of a water treatment plant out in Ohio. Sam’s had this freaky idea about an inverse blessing – sharing his taint with the water, fucking and bleeding it in – to see what happens when the locals lap it up.
Dean thinks he’s crazy, but the wet and wild sex and ritual bleeding sounds like fun. And it could work. The great apocalypse ain’t gonna start itself now, is it?
#
More of this 'verse can be found under the medlar!verse tag.
Medlar!verse: Shackles
Title: His Brother, His God, His Own.
Fandom: Pairing: Supernatural: Evil!Dean/Demon!Sam
Rating: NC-17 for graphic violence and sexual content
Words: 780 words
Spoilers: Non-specific references to events in S4
Concrit: Please. If you spot a typo or grammar goof, feel free to tell me in comments.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Incest, graphic violence, evil dudes having fun, secondary character death
Summary: That which is heard cannot be unheard
Notes: Written for a prompt found at
comment_fic. The prompt was by katbcoll - SPN, Evil!Dean/Demon!Sam, Magically delicious. I hope I didn't disappoint. The first story written in the Medlar!verse.The opening line was spoken by YED in 2x22 - All Hell Breaks Loose.
”How certain are you that what you brought back is one hundred percent pure Sam?”
That which is heard cannot be unheard, though Dean does give it his best shot. He tries to forget, to ignore the doubts, but he can’t stop watching Sam from the corner of his eye. Can’t stop comparing this Sammy to the boy he grew up with, to the last time - the only time - he was possessed. By a girl. Heh.
There’s nothing there, or at least nothing that can’t be explained by other means. Sam lets him get away with a lot of hinky shit these days; lets him play the ‘Dude, I’m gonna die soon,’ card, without a single complaint. Hell, more than once it’s been Sam’s idea to slow down for a little R&R; his idea to play voyeur to Dean’s eager exhibitionist, the girl of the moment the unwitting star of their odd, twisted little play.
The closer it gets to the day of reckoning, the more reckless Dean gets, and Sam just smiles and fails and fails and fails again to drag a deal-defying Hail Mary from his magic bag of research tricks.
If Dean didn’t know - believe - better, he’d think Sam wasn’t really trying all that hard to keep him out of Hell. He has faith right to the end, until the Hell Hounds are playing tug-o-war with his intestines.
The last thing he sees is the satisfied smirk on Sam’s black-eyed face.
#
It still takes the best and the brightest – the worst and the darkest – almost forty years of the sickest shit the Pit has to offer to get him broken to Sam’s specifications. And then Sam brings him back.
#
Sam calls his army together in the Badlands; dispenses orders, death and duty with an iron will. Dean is always at his side – faithful second, loyal brother, the sweetest fuck.
Dissent is whispered in the ranks about Dean’s meteoric, nepotistic rise to power at the end of Sam’s dick, but not for long. Dean shares his teachings from the Pit with those who doubted, embellishing with tricks his daddy taught him, the Winchester way. He’s a natural, and he glories in his play – it’s too much fun to call it work. He knows exactly how to keep a demon trapped inside its meat suit, enduring tortures of the damned they thought they’d left behind.
When sheets of skin and clumps of viscera are strung from stunted trees, and chunks of flesh are painting rusty smears on pale, striated rock – when Sam has let Dean know he’s satisfied – Dean stops.
He slouches back to Sam, dark eyes locked on his, fingers tipped with gore he licks off slowly as he moves, all flickering tongue and hollowed cheeks as he fellates them in a silent open promise to his brother, his god, his own.
Once they’re standing toe to toe, he drops, graceful, to his knees, mouthing Sam’s iron-hard erection through the butter-soft denim of his painted-on one thousand dollar ripped up jeans.
The army sees subservience but Sam knows better. He knows that Dean’s on his knees because he wants to be – because he can be – now he’s free of shame and guilt and human morals. Sam also knows that Dean can give as good as he can take – can fuck the blackness from Sam’s eyes when he wants to.
#
They try to bring Bobby over; let him know that he’s still a treasured member of the family, but he stands firm. Sam tells Dean to make it fast, and he’s dead before the first drop of blood hits the floor. An easy end. Other hunters needn’t hope for the same benevolence.
The salvage yard explodes in a tightly focused storm of sulphur yellow, sodium blue and blood-red pirouettes of living, dancing, greedy conflagration. Sam and Dean are on the edge of it, their skin turning tight and dry as they trade brutal kisses between cracked and bleeding lips. They watch the car shells turn to ash, to slag and noxious gas, and rut like dogs in the flickering smoke.
They’re healed again and on the move before sunrise, Impala purring with inhuman-tuned perfection. One of Sam’s most recent acolytes wears a meat suit that’s in charge of a water treatment plant out in Ohio. Sam’s had this freaky idea about an inverse blessing – sharing his taint with the water, fucking and bleeding it in – to see what happens when the locals lap it up.
Dean thinks he’s crazy, but the wet and wild sex and ritual bleeding sounds like fun. And it could work. The great apocalypse ain’t gonna start itself now, is it?
#
More of this 'verse can be found under the medlar!verse tag.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2009-03-08 01:54 am (UTC)Ohhhhh I liiiiiiiiike this. I really really do! Thank you!
no subject
on 2009-03-08 01:56 am (UTC)I'll just be over here, quivering.
That was intense, dark and, with just a short step to the left, scarily plausible.
no subject
on 2009-03-08 01:57 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:02 am (UTC)Awesome. So very dark and twisted. ♥ ♥
no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:11 am (UTC)You give good prompt. :D
no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:13 am (UTC)Amazing work.
*gives you pie for being awesome*
no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:21 am (UTC)Also?
Welcome to the cracky world of
no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:38 am (UTC)It's darker than I expected to go, and definitely more intense, but these boys are the dark, intense type. *g*
no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:42 am (UTC)I think it's a universe I could definitely revisit. It's so much fun to write characters being gloriously evil and amoral. *g*
no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:43 am (UTC)There may be more. ;)
no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:46 am (UTC)I'm more used to preventing apocalypses in Buffy fic, but starting them is fun too - who knew? *G*
*chomps on pie* :D
no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:48 am (UTC)Believe me, I've already lost hours. But I'm getting better at fighting off new fandoms and potential OTPs - I signed on as a co-mod at
Fun comm!
no subject
on 2009-03-08 02:51 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-08 03:50 am (UTC)Evil on evil, it's like chocolate-coated chocolate. *g*
no subject
on 2009-03-08 04:24 am (UTC)*shivers*
Dude.
no subject
on 2009-03-08 04:31 am (UTC)I started out with the intention to write something much less intense and twisted - maybe plain old demonic sex after blowing up a generic hunter bar or something, but the backstory got away from me and then suddenly it was poor Bobby and... and... *hands*
They're so pretty when they're being evil and amoral and shit. :D
no subject
on 2009-03-08 04:36 am (UTC)Booooooooooooooooys!!!
*flails*
Good is supposed to win in the end!!
*snivels*
no subject
on 2009-03-08 04:41 am (UTC)I know. And I'm sure Kripke will come through for us in the end (*does not hold breath*), but they're so hot when they're being bad boys!
(I blame my advanced age. And possibly my mother. But this time I can't blame the whisky.)
no subject
on 2009-03-08 05:32 am (UTC)I got the heebies and the jeebies when Dean was broken to Sam's specifications. I also adore that they still wanted Bobby and took mercy on him when he wouldn't turn. Lovely!!
Thank you!
no subject
on 2009-03-08 05:33 am (UTC)Your characters are always their most beautiful when they're not quite good anymore. Maybe we want good to win, but all things considered... this is a pretty way to go. Very creepy, but pretty.
no subject
on 2009-03-08 05:40 am (UTC)I think I gave myself the heebie jeebies too while writing it. *shivers* Kinda fun! :D
no subject
on 2009-03-08 05:41 am (UTC)Well, yes, okay. A little bad is *good*.
But...this?! Just evoool!
*though we still love 'em*
no subject
on 2009-03-08 05:41 am (UTC)*twirls you both*
no subject
on 2009-03-08 05:42 am (UTC)Yis yis yis! :D
no subject
on 2009-03-08 09:10 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-08 03:13 pm (UTC)Maybe I'm in the wrong circles but I've never read anything like this. And I've read a ton. Hot and twisted and pretty much awesome. I really liked this. A lot.
his idea to play voyeur to Dean’s eager exhibitionist, the girl of the moment the unwitting star of their odd, twisted little play HELL. YES.
Evil Boyz!!!!!!! Love it
on 2009-03-08 04:12 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-08 06:32 pm (UTC)he army sees subservience but Sam knows better. He knows that Dean’s on his knees because he wants to be – because he can be – now he’s free of shame and guilt and human morals. Sam also knows that Dean can give as good as he can take – can fuck the blackness from Sam’s eyes when he wants to. *shivers*
no subject
on 2009-03-09 01:05 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-09 12:15 pm (UTC)*weeps for poor Bobby and poor Dean*
no subject
on 2009-03-09 06:56 pm (UTC)I love evil Dean and Sam... they are so fucking hot....
Oh, hell yeah. :D
no subject
on 2009-03-09 07:19 pm (UTC)I'm only just getting back into reading SPN fic, so I have no idea whether or not this has been done before, but it worked so well in my head I couldn't not write it. (Mainlining S1-3 in one week obviously worked for me. *g*)
"his idea to play voyeur to Dean’s eager exhibitionist, the girl of the moment the unwitting star of their odd, twisted little play HELL. YES."
That scene boggled me. It was obviously a planned sharing of a sexual encounter. Oh, boys! ♥ *g*
Re: Evil Boyz!!!!!!! Love it
on 2009-03-09 07:43 pm (UTC)I am slowly coming around to that POV too. *g*
no subject
on 2009-03-09 08:25 pm (UTC)Oh, they knew Bobby wouldn't join them, but they couldn't just leave him out there. He would have been after them forevermore, until they or one of the army took him down. This way they got to make the offer, say goodbye, and make it quick. ;)
BYW, finding all of your comments in my inbox made my day. I will be replying to them later, so prepare to be spammed. *g*
no subject
on 2009-03-09 08:28 pm (UTC)I have problems with the boys being evil too, but I mainlined seasons 1-3 in the course of one week and when I read the prompt, YED's words, about Sammy maybe not being 100% Sammy any more, popped into my head, and from there it was a short hop to Sam being the one behind Dean's... re-education, while in the Pit.
And, dammit, they're so much fun when they're being evil! (Also, HOT! *g*)
no subject
on 2009-03-09 08:31 pm (UTC)And what, no tears for Sammy? He was a good guy once too... ;)
no subject
on 2009-03-10 05:28 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-18 08:31 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-18 08:43 am (UTC)I love writing gore with heart. I have a Spike/Xander (of Buffy) 'verse which is the longest thing I've ever written, ~30k, and all in 100 word drabbles. (Why yes, I am insane! *g*)
It's... fun, to juxtapose body parts and declarations of eternal love, and have people go 'Aaaaaaaaw!' and 'Ewwwww!' in the same comment. *g*
no subject
on 2009-03-20 03:43 am (UTC)I mean, they're slaughtering people, ending the world and I keep thinking "at least they're together."
Very nice.`
~Alice~
no subject
on 2009-03-21 10:26 pm (UTC)I mean, they're slaughtering people, ending the world and I keep thinking "at least they're together."
This is it exactly! It could end up being a ficlet 'verse akin to baby!vamp!Xander, with everyone going 'Aaaaaaaaaw!' and 'Eeeeeeeew!' in equal measure. (Which always makes me very happy indeed. *g*)
no subject
on 2009-04-07 10:08 pm (UTC)Sam’s had this freaky idea about an inverse blessing – sharing his taint with the water, fucking and bleeding it in – to see what happens when the locals lap it up.
I so loved this part, but the above made me giggle for some strange reason.
no subject
on 2009-04-07 10:41 pm (UTC)Sammy has these ideas, you know? *g*