"I know how you look in the mirror and hate what you see." Supernatural fandom. Post 15.20
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Dean was running late for work for about the fifth day in a row. Once again, he over slept his alarm, something he wasnât going to tell the boss. Heâd gathered up a notebook of excuses by now when it came to reasons why he was late. Zsasz denies it but Dean was sure if he continued down this route, he would need to be looking for another job. Just like always, he wasnât about to miss his morning coffee and today he decided on a muffin as opposed to the doughnut. There is that saying about when youâre running the late, the whole world is too and that case was true as he stood to the side and waited, admittedly impatiently, for his muffin. What in the world was taking so long? He tapped his foot and looked at his watch, flashing the barista a warning look that he was in a hurry which caused the person to go even slower. He rolled his eyes and shook his head until finally his order was completed. âThank you itâs not like I have places to be or anything.â He scoffed, waving a swift good bye and turning around to walk out of the shop.
He was too focused on his watch and trying to judge how much time he had to be able to make it to work and measuring the distance between five minutes and ten minutes when he plowed right into someone. He closed his eyes in frustration, âseriously not today.â He muttered to himself before turning around to face who he bumped into. The words of the other causing him to not feel nearly as bad, âSo sorry I will make sure I check that your name is listed on THERE,â he motioned obnoxiously to the space around them, âin the future.â He spat sarcastically, giving him a fake smile and a roll of his eyes. âLook, pal, I ainât got time for this, okay? I am already late, why donât you kindly check your attitude somewhere else because I am not impressed.â He motioned towards him with his hand that was holding the coffee, taking another sip.
Luke traveled a lot throughout his life, but Sallow Hills was different than most places he had passed through.The demigod arrived not long after falling from the cliff on Mount Olympus, due to his duel with Thalia. He had not wanted to fight her, but since she remained staunch in her loyalty to the gods, there was no other choice. In truth Luke was shocked to still be breathing, though he was certain that had more to do with Kronos than him. Surprisingly, there was no wrath or punishment from the titan king, for failing.
It was strange being here, and so far from his world. All his life, Luke had prided himself in being a demigod, knowing the power that  he held. Only thing heâd  ever thank Hermes for. Other than that, he was just a deadbeat dad. Luke was special, all the demigods were yet they were dismissed and treated horrid.
Sailing his feet through the street was bizarre. When Luke was a boy, he told countless kids about him being a demigod, and when no one believed him, eventually he stopped being around mortals, and now he was surrounded by them once more. The tip of his tongue grazed across the crest of his lip, as he felt a body collide into the side of his shoulder. Both curves of his mouth bent into a smug smirk.
âHey , itâs not like I was walking there.â
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casualsabctageâ:
Jack understood Deanâs frustration. Itâs why he didnât comment on some of the things he was saying. He didnât blame the guy. He did have a shitty death. Dean Winchester deserved a little more but appearantly that was the plan for him and there was nothing Jack could do about it. Maybe there was but he had promised himself that he wouldnât be like Chuck so he wasnât going to intervene or change anything. Everything had to run its course. âWell, you were meant for something bigger. You and Sam made a big difference in the world. If you werenât around, the world wouldâve been gone years ago. Iâm not one to rewrite things, Dean. I told you that. Everything happened because it was supposed to happen like that. I wanted to create a better Heaven, be better than Chuck ever was. Iâm not going to play around with human lives.â Jack might still be a kid, but by gaining Godâs powers, he also became a little wiser. That might also be thanks to the Winchesters and Cas. He had always felt the need to prove that he wasnât like his father, that he wasnât destined to be evil. He hoped that he finally did prove that. If he was truly evil, heâd be down in Hell, ruling that place instead of Heaven.
âHere, Iâm just Jack. Not God. People donât need to know that. Iâm just a regular kid that works as a vet assistant.â If people knew who he truly was, things could go horribly wrong. âIâm not mojo less. I just have no idea whatâs going on. Iâve tried to figure it out at first but then I started to like this place and where Iâm at now. Iâm still keeping an eye on things but I guess it isnât my main priority.â That might sound bad, but he wasnât going to use his powers to get out of here. Itâll happen at some point, he was sure of it. But he didnât need to intervene. Heaven was safe in the hands of some of the angels he trusted and he figured that Bobby and the others would warn him if something went bad up there. âitâs good that youâre happy, Dean. I mean that. Maybe itâs not so bad around here. You can live the life that youâve wanted, without any monsters. Honestly, Sam did quite alright without you. He got married. Had a son. And then eventually he ended up with you in Heaven, after he died an old man.â Of course it had been hard on Sam the first couple of years after Deanâs death, Jack had seen it all but he managed to move forward. âAlright, Iâll see what I can do. But if this all ends, pretty sure youâll just end up in Heaven again.â
Dean knew this was his fate, not making it to live a long and happy life, ending prematurely. Afterall, he started dying when he was 29 and even before that when he had to see that lame faith healer, then the accident. Maybe some people just werenât meant to live. He continued to need the saving. What sort of hunter was that? He was supposed to be the one doing the saving, not letting innocent people die to save him. Too many already had died at his hand so maybe the world was better off but that didnât prevent him from feeling extremely selfish that he wasnât completely ready to go and he hoped Sam and Laurel would work together to bring him back. Of course it wasnât fair to expect that from them, they didnât deserve that and he couldnât go around with the request to not bring him back and then hope the opposite. He shook his head a bit in frustration. Jack was so purse and just GOOD it was disgusting most of the time. His goodness reminded him so much of Sam and Dean knew if it werenât for Sam, Jack could have gone down a much different path; something he knew heâd always be thankful to Jack for. âDonât give me that made a big difference bullshit. That was always Chuckâs line when I come to find out, he kept saving us just to fuck us again.â His voice was angrier than he intended. He wasnât mad at Jack just frustrated with how it ended for him. The guilt of his own death hanging over his head and the people he left behind.Â
He buried his head in his hands for a brief moment as if to shake up the moment of anger, he sighed. âI am sorry I am not mad at you itâs just I wanted my happy ending, you know? Having a wife and a family was always that unobtainable goal that I tried not to hope for because it was unrealistic but then I met Laurel and . . .things change, I guess.â He smiled at the potential thought. She had definitely turned him in to a mush ball, something he was slowly starting to succumb to. When he heard about Sam getting that ending he had so desperately wanted, he smiled sincerely, small tears springing to his eyes, âGood, good I am glad to hear that. He deserves it but the fact he found a woman willing to marry him . . .man.â He shook his head with a small chuckle, âbut I guess it is not any less believable than someone that would be willing to put up with my ass the rest of their life.â He looked back to Jack, placing another hand on his shoulder, âjust tell me one thing . . . did Sam name his kid after me?â He questioned with a wide grin even if a part of him wasnât sure he was ready for those emotions.Â
âVet assistant, huh? It suits you. I am still very proud of you, kid.â Grinning proudly, âyou always know how to do the right thing. Hell you might turn this old skeptic into actually believing in that higher power.â Considering all he had been through with the angels, demons, heaven and hell, he was a long way from trusting it all so easily but there was something comforting about knowing Jack is in charge. He contemplated the idea for a brief second, ânah,â he joked with a shake of his head. âbut thanks, man, I still have that fear of in accepting the happiness something will happen to it, that it will get ripped away at any minute. I guess old habits die hard, huh? Now that you are going to be spending a lot more time on earth. You better not be a stranger.âÂ
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It was another relatively slow day at the store. Either everyone was a supernatural creature of already knew how to hunt them and Dean was thinking the latter. Which didnât make sense to why he felt his night job hadnât seen too much action lately. Maybe he just didnât know where to look or maybe he didnât have the time to now that he was working full time. This damn job really DID interfere with his social life, at least as close to social as he could get. It wasnât the best word he would use to describe anything that pertained to him.Â
Whenever it wasnât busy, Dean always found a way to make himself at least LOOK busy especially while the boss was around. Anytime he felt someone come close, heâd instantly start to straighten the merchandise. He canât get much more boring than that but it got the job done. After he felt the coast was clear, heâd pull out the phone to scroll through the internet, looking for a hunt or something that would be remotely interesting to help pass the time. When he saw a customer coming, he quickly stowed the phone away, reaching for an inventory clipboard and pretending as if he was engrossed in the task, looking up and down the shelves. However, the man that walked into the store instantly piqued his interest when he heard his name.
He turned to face him, furrowing his brows in curiosity, he definitely didnât recognize him, nor did he know many people in this town yet so it instantly caused him to feel suspicious. Typically, Dean denies the direct question as a form of protecting himself but he wasnât able to get away with it this time, considering he had a name tag that read his name. He held the clipboard in front of him before looking the other man over, in attempt to figure out who or WHAT he was. He wondered what sort of research he needed help with. Finally, he acknowledged him with a nod of his head,. flashing him a smile before using the pen to point to his name tag that read âDeanâ.Â
âWell, it looks like you found him.â He stated, âThat would be me. I am sorry but who are you?â He questioned, hanging the clipboard up on the hook behind the register before turning back to him and crossing his arms across his chest. âDepending on who sent you will determine my willingness to help with this so-called research. So . . . start talking.âÂ
@winchestcrâ Dean Winchester & Alec Lightwood
   Five months in this place and heâs no closer to knowing anything about himself than when heâd first arrived. However, what Alec has learned some about the town and the people and creatures who inhabit it, has left him with even more questions about himself. The reason Alec took up the position at the library is because it seemed like the best place to be to have access to old records of the town and hopefully about himself.Â
   Aside from going to Merlin for help in terms of any head trauma and why he has amnesia, heâs also been looking into the tattoos all over his body. Theyâre far too similar to each other for it to be some kind of aesthetic thing. The symbols could be a language for all he knows, and thereâs also the fact that one of the marks on his body seems to tug at him. As though itâs someone at the end of an invisible string trying to call out. Tattoos donât do that sort of thing.
   It has crossed his mind that he may be a supernatural person himself, but what kind he canât guess. Supernatural means magicâŠright? Alec definitely doesnât have any of that, and heâs pretty sure magic isnât something you forget how to use, amnesia or not. And an aching tattoo doesnât exactly fit the magical description either.
   Itâs thanks to a regular at the library that he found his way to Hills Hunting. Heâd been looking into the townâs lore and was told that if he really wanted answers to all the strange things here, then he should find the person who knows more about the supernatural than the rest of them. Someone who hunts them.Â
    Alec scans the shop as soon as he steps in and his eyes land on a man standing by the register. He cautiously makes his way over and leans over the counter, clearing his throat.Â
   â Iâm looking for Dean Winchester. I was told he could help me with someâŠresearch. â
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cheerlessbirdâ:
She was never the kind of lover that allowed the other to do all of the work. Priding herself as someone who could find a balance in giving and receiving. With Dean? She had an unquenchable thirst in pleasuring him. He was the first man to completely come undone whenever she touched him, a vulnerability that she always found so sexy. The way he would lean into her body and embrace her as though he was trying anchor himself, encouraged her further to continue unraveling him.
But, sensual moments like this one? She was the submissive one. It was hard not to be with a skilled lover like him. Even harder to resist. He knew how to map out her body with his hands, heightening her senses, with the main goal of arousing her to where she was a desperate mess for him. Something that he could already feel at how her inner walls squeezed around his cock as he delved deeper into her warmth. Her whole body yearned from him. The coarseness of his hands left goosebumps wherever they trailed over her, while the warmth of his tongue caused her body temperature to rise, causing her to gently sing out his name to encourage him on.
A sharp gasp slipped past her lips with his firm thrust inside of her, the head of his cock hitting her g-spot perfectly, causing her to arch her body and openly moan his name, completely forgetting they werenât somewhere more private. âYou have a lot of catching up to do,â she breathed out, tone laced with lust as her inner thighs squeezed his hips. It was lucky that her face was flushed from their current intimate entanglement on her desk, though the color in her eyes went from full of lust to soft from the way he used his surname on her.
There was also a devious glint in her eyes, using upward body strength to push and swivel up her hips against his, purposely squeezing her inner walls tighter around his cock. âYou will need to work harder to pass, Mr. Winchester,â she purred, managing to free one hand to touch him. Fingernails enticingly grazed along his ass, a small smirk turning the corner of her lips up, while running over the length of his spine. As her hand reached his face, she gripped his jaw, hungrily kissing him until he was breathless.
âI hope youâre ready to continue going above and beyond your future wifeâs needs.â When she broke away from the kiss, her grip on his jaw remained as she guided his mouth back down to her breast. It was evident that she couldnât get enough of what he did to her, while more than obvious that she couldnât wait until they were safe and hidden away back at his place.
The way she moaned his name, it always was music to his ears. As if he couldnât be anymore turned on, she managed to pique his sexual desire that much higher. It resulted in a small moan escaping his lips , his mouth falling open to willingly greet her kisses, pumping his hips desperately against her under each squeeze to his cock. The slow, sensual moment began to heighten to one full of passion, his hips rocking desperately against her, pinning her tightly against the desk underneath him. He didnât care they were literally having sex in a very public place. A place that could scar her students should they even walk by her door but that is how the spontaneity of their desire for each other worked, they were always ready to please, any time, anywhere. It was something Dean learned early on, ever since their first sexual encounter in HER office on . . . well a desk. He smiled at the memory, guiding his lips from hers down her neck, burying his lips into it and sucking at it desperately, trying not to bite under the way she squeezed him. Her strength was overwhelming and so fucking hot. They always talked about his not so secret desire for her to use her meta human strength on him, throw him against the wall, take him on the ceiling, he didnât care as long as it meant being this close to her.
His hand interlaced with hers at the grip to his ass, triggering him to ride his hips roughly against her body, his lips locked with hers in a hungry, desperate kiss. Whenever she touched him, it set his body on fire. Never had he felt so desired from anyone heâd been with in his life and he had been with a lot. That is when he knew no matter how long they were together, how often they shared intimacy, he knew it would never not be the best sex he ever had. âWhy donât you spank me for being a slacker on my work?â He breathed lowly against her lips, taking his own turn to glide his hands down her back, squeezing at her butt with both of his hands, never once separating from the kiss except to mutter muffled sentences he wasnât even sure were audible.Â
âI will give you harder to pass,â his entire body now engulfed in goosebumps , thrusting even farther into her, feeling the muscles tighten around his cock, he found himself begin to feel weaker under the pleasure, trembling at the way she controlled him. As much as he loved pleasuring her into submission, he also loved when sheâd command him what to do and the way she took it upon herself to shove his face back into her breasts, caused him to growl in pleasure, his hands now moving from her butt to her breasts, capturing each in his hand, prodding and squeezing them as if he never touched them before. He might as well not have since it had felt like ages since the last time he did. He squeezed her breasts against his mouth as he sucked at one of her nipples, endless muffled moans of pleasure continued to escape his lips, moving his hands from her breasts, down her sides and gripping her waist to tug her more tightly against him, feeling his cock get squeezed more firmly inside of her.Â
He hated feeling so restricted in what he REALLY wanted to do to her which probably would have resulted in breaking her desk. âI know what my wife needs.â He smirked, pulling her up from where he had her pinned to the desk, resting his hands on her legs, gently stroking them with his fingers. âI think she needs me to smuggle her out of here.â He whispered against her ear, the fact they were both naked a huge problem to try to attempt to go out into the hallway and risk being arrested for indecent exposure. He carefully lifted her up into his arms, making sure her legs remained wrapped around his waist so he would stay nuzzled inside of her just to turn her around so her back was facing him, slipping into her from behind, his fingers working desperately at the lips of her entrance. He didnât want to remove his hands from her for a single second, using his foot to attempt to flick their clothes up into his hands. âThink we can make it to the car without being caught?â His voice was hoarse and in a whisper, pressing kisses against her ear and down the side of her neck. âI donât want to risk losing you to some other guy because I donât know if youâve noticed but you are DAMN sexy.â He smirked.
I
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cleviltriggersâ:
   »»âââââââââ««Â
a small voice in the back of her head told her to hold her tongue but, nana had never been any good at that. bravery and stupidity were two sides of the same coin, after all, and nana walked that fine line far too often. what would her boss say? play nice? nana thought may not, and she plastered a big old fake smile on her face. âmy job is a cashier, sir, not a personal shopper,â she said in an overly friendly manner, deciding to leave it at that for now.
at least the recommendation was taken well. âwell, itâs two of those things. it can be incense sticks, wax melts, oil burners,â nana only knew this because sheâd picked out a particularly nice burner that she planned to give to violet - it was shaped like a cauldron, she was sure sheâd love it. âthey help cleanse your body and spirit - if you believe in that stuff,â she picked up a white diffuser from a stand, and an oil. âthis one is for bringing inner calmness, helps to whisk stress away - which iâm sure she has plenty of if youâre her boyfriend,â nana teased.
Ah a smartass. Dean loved a smartass so when she informed him she wasnât a personal shopper, he fake smiled at her, âwell then maybe you should get someone who is.â He stated just as politely though his tone came across a bit more condescending. He wasnât trying to be rude to her. He actually appreciated her âno bullshitâ attitude which resulted in him trusting her entirely with what she was recommending. As much as she probably didnât like him, she wasnât going to steer him wrong and it felt good to trust that.
He smirked and nodded his head in acknowledgement when she suggested to him about the diffuser that involved helping with calm and stress. She really did understand where he was coming from. âSee? You get me.â He smiled, picking up the diffuser and taking a small whiff of it. He nodded his head in approval. âYeah that smells good, you got yourself a deal. How much?â He inquired, pulling out his wallet, âlooks like you can add personal shopper to your resume after all.â He teased playfully, âyou donât know how much you helped save my ass. I think she is really going to appreciate this.âÂ
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wickedpotionsâ:
                 â â â â â
HE wasnât sure how he felt about being called sir.  sure, it was nice to know that he was the bossman here.  he had control over this all.  but it felt weird coming from dean-oâs mouth.  maybe because he didnât expect it from him.  from fi - perhaps.  though he liked to think that he and fi had a less formal relationship, seeing as sheâd been around for a while now and he trusted her to run the shop for a day if he couldnât make it in.  Â
zsasz raised a browbone at his question. fire him, really?  he shook his head, waving his hand so to say âgo on.â  because really, fire him for whatever he was getting up to?  unless it was reporting zsasz to one of the bats in town or harassing oswald,  he doubted there was anything dean could say that would make him want to fire him.
âdepends on the parties, dean-o.  i donât always get along with everyone,â he said.  he did like a good party - well.  it was complicated.  he liked the get togethers falcone or oswald would throw together, but for those he was always on the job.  protecting them,  taking someone out, whatever.  he did like to crash a fancy party now and then.  weddings, rich people showing off their wealth, whatever it was.  and he liked the small parties he and the girls would host for each other and maybe a few trusted others.  but those were more like the discotheques he visited in gotham.  pounding music, moving bodies, the likes.
He couldnât say enough how much Dean enjoyed having Zsaz for a boss. He could tell by his reaction he legitly wasnât willing to fire him even if Dean felt he probably deserved it sometimes. He wasnât used to having a REAL job that offers a pay check. He lived most of his life on the thankless job that is hunting. As much as he did enjoy it, it would have been much better if he could get paid. Now his once full time job of hunting was now more of a night job. It was nice having income he could rely on but he didnât like having to be so responsible. There was something about dedicating part of his day he could have used for sleeping or eating to working and dealing with people that just didnât set well with him but he was glad it was for Zsasz than some other uptight asshole he probably would have told off by now.Â
His reaction to suggesting heâd be fired was comforting and he couldnât help but chuckle at the quirk of his eyebrow. âThat hard to believe, huh? I always knew I liked you.â He grinned teasingly pointing his finger at him. âHallelujah to job security!â He exclaimed with a little pump of his fist. He continued to grin smugly to himself as he finished polishing off the gun, storing it away and taking out another one, instantly using the rag to wipe down the barrel. âThe only party that matters, with me, myself, and I, my girlfriend, and maybe my brother when he decides to stop being a square which is unfortunately on all the days that end with âYâ.â It was something Dean always teased Sam about. The two couldnât be more opposite of each other. Sam was the responsible one and Dean was well reckless but Sam always helped him keep his head on.Â
âThat makes two of us, man, why do you think my guest list is so small?â He was mostly kidding about the party but knowing him and his boss shared the not getting along with many people in common, he nodded his head in encouragement, âWhy donât you join us sometime? I am serious. I think theyâd like you, despite the fact they can get along with anyone I mean...,â he motioned to himself with an obvious shrug of his shoulders and a sly smile. âOnly one way to find out, right?â It probably wasnât very professional to invite your boss to hang out outside of work but he wasnât lying when he told him he doesnât get along with many people. Dean didnât have many friends, especially not in this place and was grateful to anyone he actually got along with, boss or not.
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hollowedheavensâ:
Samâs day was going great. Honestly.Â
He had slept fully through the night, woken by the repetitive beeping of his alarm rather than the all to frequent sounds of his own screams. Not that the nightmares were a new occurrence. The horror of real life bleeding into oneâs unconscious was practically a right of passage for hunters. Sam, unlike most things, was not an exception to this rule.
He was just used to being ripped from the terror of his own mind. He was too used to having someone who knew his signs. Who could tell by the slightest change in breathing when Sam went from a peaceful slumber to a dangerous darkness. He was used to having Dea- no.Â
So what if he had to endure a few bad nights of sleep? So what if he didnât have the comfort of a warm hand on his shoulder, on his back, tussling his hair like he was still thirteen. So what? Sam didnât need those things. He was fine.Â
His shift at the library was going in full swing, the mundane routine doing wonders for him. Even if his mind screamed at him for it. His guard was down. Anything could get him. Where was his protection? Where were his weapons? Come on Sammy, you know better than this.Â
It was ironic, truly, that the voice in his head took the tilt of his brotherâs chords. One that scolded him for stopping practices that had made sure to keep him alive in the past. One who was so concerned with his safety when the real owner of that voice had wanted him dead. Samâs life was one giant example of dramatic irony.Â
So caught in his own musings, he tuned out of his surroundings, only coming back when the loud thump echoed in his ears. He jumped in his own skin, pathetic, the scolding on his tongue before the voice registered in his ears.
This was not real fucking life.Â
Sam felt his blood freeze in his veins. His demon blood, a voice hissed in his mind. His breath seemed to halt, his body perpetually stuck between itâs fight or flight response. He had yearned for that voice, to hear that name roll of the tongue with warmth instead of malice. Against all preservation instincts, Sam had just wanted to see his brother again. But at what cost?Â
The voicemail message rang through his ears, his hands clutched around the thin spine of Gardening for Dummies. He knew this morning was too good to be true. Fuck. Did he even wake up? Was he still in some twisted hellscape of his own mind? That was the only explanation for the downright joy and mirth and tease in brotherâs voice. His brain was getting more creative it seemed.Â
âItâs definitely time to wake up, now.â He hissed out to himself. Refusing to turn and catch glimpse of the man behind him, choosing to ignore him entirely. âThis is not real. Just another nightmare, Sammy. Pull yourself out.âÂ
Dean felt satisfied with himself when he felt Sam jump. Mission. Accomplished. The rest of the library was probably about to throw him out but Dean didnât care just another day in the life as far as he was concerned. Besides, did anyone really READ anymore? There was his nerdy brother but that is just it, nerdy, he was a special exception to all the old-fashioned rules. Of all the things he could do, all the places and things he had SEEN and THIS is the sort of job Sam chose? Dean couldnât help but smile softly at the thought. He found it comforting and. . . . familiar. It was very Sam and he was thankful to have his brother here. It gave him a sense of normalcy in a world that he wasnât able to make full sense of.Â
Despite being around for awhile, Dean hadnât felt AT HOME just yet. Home to him was always with Sam no matter the cost but without Sam being around him regularly, well . . . he did feel lonely. He wasnât used to waking up utterly alone. Serves you right, he mused inwardly to himself, that was probably exactly how Sam felt after Dean abandoned him. He had told him not to bring him back but since when had either brother taken the other seriously? They made that promise to each other several times in the past but it still didnât stop them from trying. Sam made Dean promise to make a life without him after he sacrificed himself to Lucifer, a promise he didnât fully up head to. He told him not to look for him in purgatory . . . something he had to admit, felt disappointed Sam actually listened to. His brother had been busy making his own life while he ignored the job, Kevin, and let him rot in purgatory to fend for his life. That was definitely something that put the brothers at odds for the good part of that year but they worked it out, they always do because theyâre family and you donât give up on family.Â
Was this similar to how he felt then? Making Sam promise not to bring him back and then feel let down that he didnât? Death was always meant to be his fate, as long as Sammy was going to be okay, he could let go. His mind falling back to their last conversation. I canât do this alone. Yes you can, he had told him but I donât want to. A direct parallel to one of their first conversations about the job when they first started to work together as a team without their dad, to learn how to depend on each other, work out their differences over the fall out when Sam gave the news he was going to Stanford. Dean didnât want him to go. Of course he wanted his brother to be happy but he thought Sam escaping to Stanford was his way of walking away and escaping him too. They were as different as night and day, Sam was meant for bigger and better things and Dean, well he thought he was worthy of nothing more than the lonely life of a hunter. He found himself enjoying the job, it was his way of contributing to the world, where he found his purpose after the inevitable day Sam no longer needs him, a day he promised himself he would hang onto for as long as he could.
He thought for sure the obnoxiousness of dropping the book would get his brotherâs attention but he didnât turn around. Deanâs face changed from amusement to fear in a matter of seconds. Could he not see him? Hear him? Was he invisible? Maybe this was all just one big dream and suddenly his memory of that time in the hospital after the accident when he met Tessa, came flooding back. Was he still dead and this was just his soul trapped between worlds? If that were the case, how come Sam heard the book drop? Maybe that is because it is a thing that exists in Samâs reality? When his brother started to speak, he let out a low sigh of relief, only to realize he wasnât talking to him but to himself. He furrowed his brows, taking it upon himself to position himself in front of Sam, waving his arms in front of his face and snapping his fingers, âYo, Sam, earth to Sam!â He still felt slightly confused as to what was going on, everyone else he had come across seemed to acknowledge him just fine and the majority of them definitely werenât people heâd want in his heaven. Maybe Sam was mad at him? Laurel had been, well mad was the wrong word more like frustrated, not that he could blame her at all. He wouldnât blame Sam either but then why didnât he try to bring him back if that were the case?Â
If Sam thought he was going to be able to get away with ignoring him that easily, Dean wasnât going to let him get away with it. He looked down at the book his brother was holding, removing it from his hands, he scoffed at the title, âReally, Sammy? Gardening? I always said your life would be boring without me but this is extreme.â He grinned broadly, placing the book on the opposite side from Sam in attempt to continue to get his attention. He let his legs hang over the counter, clicking his shoes against the bottom of the counter desk, he knew by the way the rest of the library was reacting, he wasnât invisible. âAh. I am a nightmare now. Ouch. Downgrade. I wonât be ignored so I can do this all day.â He raised his voice again with a smirk and a nonchalant shrug. âHey by the way, what the hell happened to you? You look twelve.â He made a face in his direction, tilting his head to the side in observation. He smiled, âWait . . . did you actually cut your hair?â
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Dean had been a nervous wreck. This was unlike him. He wasnât the sort of guy that actually gave a flying fuck about Valentineâs Day but it was his first with someone that genuinely meant a lot to him and he wanted to make it special for her. He had already gone down the unique route with the metaphysical shop with the young lady that explained to him about aromatherapy. Something he was still considering but who says he couldnât get her more than one gift?Â
When he found his way into the shop that day, he didnât expect to find something . . . normal. for lack of a better term. Jewelry was pretty cliche when he wanted to take the road less traveled as far as gifts go but it couldnât hurt to try it out. Especially when he saw another employee by the jewelry display. He grinned as  he made his way over, he still managed to awkwardly look around. He didnât know much about jewelry. He didnât grow up with many women in his life and for some reason, it caused him to feel his masculinity drain away when he normally walks with a confidence everywhere he goes, regardless of how uncomfortable he feels. Although, for Dean Winchester to feel uncomfortable was a rare occasion. Ignoring the feeling that maybe he purposefully chose this odd hour to finally notice the jewelry selection so no one would catch him. He needed to get a grip, there are worse places to be caught. He just hoped he would still manage the element of surprise.Â
âWell, well, there IS hope for normalcy in this place after all.â He joked before offering her as a sincere smile as possible when the woman asked if he needed help. He probably did but he wanted to keep it cool. âNah, just looking.â It probably came out a lot more nervous than he expected, pretending to busy himself at the nearby display before finally giving in to the curiosity. âI am looking for a possible Valentineâs Day gift for my girlfriend, itâs our first one together and I am not exactly the romantic type.â He confessed, âSo I am looking for something sentimental but not overly . . .â he paused trying to find the right word, âcorny.â He suggested using his hand to emphasize the uncertainty in his choice of words. âSo, what do you think? Whatâs in the booox?â purposefully dragging out box in attempt to give an overly exaggerated reference to the movie âSeven.â Offering her an amused grin.
â â âąÂ r. & open! ⹠â
Rhiannon placed another wrapped necklace on display, sliding the cord around a gnarled hook. A very pretty bit of tempered sea glass, supposed to bring with it âall the powers of the oceanâ. In truth, it was no more than just glass in a very strange shape. Most things in her shop were inherently valueless until the humans that frequented it assigned those trinkets their purpose.
Surprisingly powerful lot, humans were. Only when they knew what they were doing.
Some things worked. Others were cursed, âblessedâ, or even her own little brand of protection. There had even been a box with a chaos entity trapped inside some years back, that had been exciting.
The slide of the door across the welcome mat alerted her, the tiniest quirk of her eyebrows raising. They usually didnât get this many customers close to dusk. But she kept her face pleasant, turning towards the newcomer.
âDid you want help finding anything?â Rhiannon asked, repositioning the box to rest against her hip.
open for everyone!
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cheerlessbirdâ:
She knew he had every right to be angry. Whether it be with the vampires, his brother, and at her. It was a natural human emotion to feel anger. There was reasonable cause for it. It wasnât like she slept every night with peace. No, peace was barely with her these days since Deanâs death. Blood on her hands. His blood. Promises were made to be broken and yet, she never broke it. She should have. Damn it, should she have broken it before Sam took matters into his own hands. She should have brought him back! Not make him feel as though he deserved to stay dead. It was the very thing he didnât deserve.
The way he scolded her, if one could call it that - for her, it always felt like he was turning her sadness into sense. He was intellectual like that. Something she knew he would deny, but in his very own way, he was clever as hell. God, did she miss him so much. To hear such sensible words once again. âNo one ever asks what the hero needs,â she told him softly. Sadly. But, she didnât deny his request to get a better look at her.
He scoffed when she talked about heroes. He really hoped she wasnât referring to him. The last thing he was was a hero but that is what was so great about Laurel, he was HER hero and that is all that mattered to her and in turn all that mattered to him. She taught him what it meant to be someoneâs hero and the best part, he didnât have to be anyone special to do it, just himself. âThe only hero here is you.â He assured her with a sincere smile. He reminded her on a regular basis that one day she was going to realize he isnât who she thinks he is despite her claims against it. He had to admit, it felt good, so good to have someone that actually gave a shit. He spent way too much time pushing that away but when he no longer had it? Heâd give anything to get it back. He had to lose her before he realized what he had, promising himself never to lose her again. A promise he did break. He should have tried harder, he had more to live for. An entire life to start with someone that was willing to work it through with him. Someone he didnât have to lie to about what he did, that he didnât have to worry would judge him for something that happened on the job because she understood. She GOT him, she got him in ways not even Sam did and he could spend the rest of his life making it up to her for all the time they lost while he was being a stubborn prick.
It was about time she finally gave him and let herself succumb to the moment. He was never a person that denied her anything, especially not when it came to having his way with her, besides, he started it. He wasnât sure how willing she was for him to start something in her place of business but it came full circle. Their first time was in her office, their first reunion after their one year too long separation was in his, and now they were back in hers. Desks seemed to be sacred for them, something he couldnât help but smirk at the thought of through their endlessly passionate kisses that he didnât fail to provide. It wasnât long before he found himself lost in their kisses, his breathing turning into full on panting as his hands wrapped around her body, to both hug her close and to swiftly undo her bra strap, something he had gotten very well-versed in, he let it fall off his fingers, thrusting that much more desperately against her body between her legs, unable to keep from letting out a soft chuckle at her observation. âThen I guess that is my cue I am wasting too much time.â He whispered against her ear, waggling his eyebrows, his own hand cradling hers against his face. He stared deeply into her eyes, capturing her lips in another desperately heated kiss, he used both of his hands to pop the buttons open off her blouse, swiftly removing it from her shoulders in one swift motion never breaking the kiss. The kiss grew more passionate by the minute, his own tongue entangling desperately with hers, already panting for air as he moved his hands from removing her shirt to her face for more leverage to kiss her that much more deeply. The way she touched him drove him even more. When she popped off the button of his pants, he let out a small moan, âI never liked those jeans anyway,â He breathed desperately, allowing himself to place slow, passionate, open mouthed kisses at the way she was controlling his cock, his breath already beginning to get shorter. He was thankful she was making it so easy because he wasnât sure how much longer heâd be able to hold off on not taking her full advantage of her.
Each and every time he kissed her, each and every time they got intimate, it never failed to feel like the first time. She had this unbelievable power over him that he could not fight, nor did he want to. He wanted her and the passion of the love he felt for her was overwhelming. He thought he had been in love before but it was nothing like this. It was as if every thing and everyone that came in and out of his life was all because he was meant to meet and fall in love with Laurel, that future he so desperately desired was coming closer to the forefront of his mind. It no longer felt so far away. His hands now escaping her face, caressed passionately down her body, removing his own shirt and tossing it to the side. He pressed his chest against hers, the warmth of the connection overwhelming him, taking in a deep breath. It felt so amazing to be this close to her, the actual love of his entire life. Something he never imagined would be possible. It would be easy to feel guilty taking such a risk, after all, one of her kids could walk in any minute, be scarred for life and hear all the parent complaints but none of that seemed to matter. As he continued to suck desperately at her lips, his body began to perspire, suddenly forgetting where they were because it didnât matter, all that mattered was her and him and this moment of passion he had been so desperate for in what felt like an eternity. He positioned himself more comfortably in between her legs, using his hips to spread her legs that much wider, which resulted in him being able to easily tease her with his cock along her center.
His mouth made its way from hers down to her neck, across her collarbone and gently along her breasts, wrapping both arms around her in a tight embrace before looking up at her, âYou can tell Freddy over my dead body because youâre the woman of MY dreams.â He grinned, his tongue making its way back up her body, licking along the underside of her breasts. Good god he missed her and the feeling of her hands on him. He unhooked one of his hands that was draped around her body, to place his hand on top of hers to slowly guide his cock inside of her, not letting his eyes fall from hers. It was amazing to him how it went from sexy and desperate to loving and sensual in a matter of minutes. It had felt way too long since the last time they were intimate. He interlaced their fingers as he slowly pressed deeper inside of her, gently thrusting his body against her, small moans escaping his lips, pressing open mouth kisses against her hear, down her neck and back again, âI am way passed detention, now I am working on the after school special.â He nipped gently at her ear, pinning both of her arms above her head, âI might need a little bit of extra,â emphasizing the extra with a firm thrust farther into her, âcredit. Think you can handle that . . . Mrs Winchester?â He groaned against her ear with a smirk, trying it on for size. It had a very nice ring to it, something he could get used to as much as scary as it still was being able to be vulnerable. He trusted her with his life and she helped him be less afraid.
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cleviltriggersâ:
a man walked in and nana was quite surprised as she watched him look around. she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his harry potter reference - jesus, was it really the only book out there to deal with magic? nana wouldnât mind once in a while if someone brought up Shakespeare orâŠsomething.Â
âa potion as in a witches brew,â she replied curtly, listening to him talk. she could actually make something to fix a personality defect; it was called poison, and would nullify all personality defects. by killing the person. nana found her own personal jokes funny, even if she didnât voice them outloud. âshouldnât you know what your girlfriend likes?â was her reaction, raising a questioning brow back in his general direction.
âdepends. does she practice the craft, or have an interest in it? we have fancy tarot cards, things for alters - candles, effigies, offerings - oh! weâve started doing an aromatherapy range. oil burners make nice gifts, who doesnât like nice smells?â
He narrowed his eyes at her, two can play her âno shitâ game and today was one of those days he just wasnât in the mood. This probably wasnât the best place to find something for Laurel but it was definitely unique and would probably offer something she didnât have and still manage to give her something to remember him by, something that would mean a lot to her, at least he could only hope.Â
âYeah no shit. I know what a potion is, thanks.â He snapped, with a roll of his eyes. He should probably watch his attitude or else she wouldnât want to help him. He liked to think no one would know what she likes better than him but what he didnât know is what there was to offer in this shop. âI donât know a damn thing about your Harry Potter gig, toots so I am asking what she might like based on what you have, isnât that your job?â He questioned, quirking his eyebrows in curiosity, âbecause I can easily go somewhere else.â He used his hand to motion towards the door. Typically, these places would be thankful for new customers and would want to prevent him from going somewhere else.Â
âTo answer your question, no and no but you might be onto something with that aromatherapy thing. I want to get her something that smells nice and she can definitely use some therapy for help dealing with me.â He smirked mischievously, âIs that where you put the sticks in a perfume like substance and the entire room fills with the smell? or does it come in a body wash or actual perfume? I donât know, sweets, what is available?â He questioned as he looked around the shop to observe if there was anything that might sincerely interest him in buying for a gift. He had heard of aromatherapy before but he didnât have any personal experience with it so he was sure this woman would find him to be pretty incompetent when it came to her shop which he was. He still didnât know why he was in there but he was definitely going to be giving her more than she bargained for.
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wickedpotionsâ:
THE gun was lowered.  there was a breath baz hadnât realized theyâd been holding until they saw the gun get lowered.  well, at least he wouldnât have his friends coming after him for threatening a guy who had a gun to their head.  he ran his hands through his hair, letting himself collect back up.  facial expression - school.  hands - not trembling.  stomach - well one rat wasnât enough but it would hold them off until they could go hunting tonight.
they wanted to laugh.  they wanted to spit in the manâs face.  you just have to want it.  crowley, if he could get rid of this disease he would! and this man had the nerve to ask like baz had a god damn choice.  he had no ground to speak on, no way to level himself. baz knew almost nothing about being a vampire, but they knew one thing.  once you were turned, there was no going back.  if there was, nicodemus probably would have been force fed the cure.  mages were like that. Â
what came out was a sneer.  the coldest, cruelest sneer they could muster.  âdonât talk to me about choice,â they snapped.  there was only one good thing about being a vampire and it was that he could protect simon.  he could take out whoever threatened simon, could keep him safe from everything.  if simon let him.
âi didnât have a choice when i was five and i donât have a choice now.  you think if i had a choice i would be living like this!âÂ
too much. take it back.  they ran their hands through their hair again and tightened the strap on their bag.  they needed to leave. they needed to get back to the apartment with violet and the snakes where no one questioned if he was good enough to live.
No choice. The term rang in Deanâs ear. He knew a lot about what he felt he had and didnât have a choice on. For example, when he sold his soul to a demon to save his brother, he viewed that as no choice considering living without Sam was never an option. Getting bit by a vampire himself all those years ago and trying to explain it to someone he was sure would never understand. He failed himself then, he should have done better, he could argue that he did have a choice in that. He definitely had a choice in whether or not to feed on a human, something that did get harder and harder by the day so from that perspective he did understand the no choice and he probably could respect the choice he had to not feed on humans. That is assuming that he didnât. Dean also felt he had no choice when it came to tricking Sam into letting Gadreel in, something he regretted the most. He would do anything to save his brother, no matter what, the choice is always to save him, there was never another option. Dean made a lot of mistakes in his life due to feeling he had no other choice. No one understood the âno choiceâ option more than him even if those choices werenât always the best ones.Â
âOh boohoo. Spare me the sob story, pal, I have no sympathy for a vampire. No one understands the âno choiceâ better than me but I still managed to make the best of it. Not that it is any of your business but I got bitten by one a long time ago, destroyed my relationship at the time. I chose not to feed on humans that IS a choice and because of that choice, I tried the cure and it worked. You donât HAVE to live like this.â He wasnât sure why he was being so personal with someone he didnât even know, especially a vampire. In Deanâs experience, not all vampires were bad. He had a very positive, healthy friendship with one, one he still owes for making it out of purgatory alive and for saving Sam. Something he still managed to feel a lot of guilt for because he was the one selfish enough to ask that of someone like Benny that had done nothing but be loyal to him and that is how he thanked him?
âHave you ever fed on a human? If you donât want to live like this so badly, why havenât you sought out a cure? Where I come from there is one as long as you havenât touched human blood, otherwise, there IS no turning back. Iâd ask you what happened when you were five but I really just donât care.â He offered them another fake smile, tucking the weapon away, there was a part of him that did almost feel sorry for the other. âSo, good talk but why donât you take your pity party to someone that actually might give a fuck because mine is officially busted, sorry.â He stated sarcastically with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, âthe next time I see you I may not be so chatty so do with that what you will.â He obnoxiously moved out of their way in attempt to let them pass , motioning for them to with his arm.
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wickedpotionsâ:
                 â â â â â
HARASSING wasnât the word zsasz wouldâve used, but it was near enough.  creeping was his thing.  making people feel like they might get shot or sliced at any minute.  harassing?  well, no.  even if heâd ever crept near that, his girls back in gotham wouldâve set him right.  you could make people scared of you in different ways, and in the end that was all he wanted.  people to fear him.  to know that he didnât play around, and that he always hit his target.  ⊠unless you were jimbo, but that was a different matter entirely. Â
dean was a jokester.  not a joker, no no j was the only one of those.  but a jokester.  zsasz liked it.  he liked having people around him that could be a bit loose.  could have fun with life.  that werenât all stiff and up the ass about things.  sure, he knew when to take things seriously.  when he was propped behind a gun, lining up his shot, hands never wavering or shaking.  but outside of a job, well who didnât want to kick back a bit. Â
free.  ha.  maybe, one day.  zsasz had picked up a knife for fi the other day, but she was also.  well, she had been there since near the beginning and zsasz liked her quiet friend who came in sometimes.  linkie didnât like him, he knew that.  but he respected that, and he respected fi for that.  dean-o, well maybe one day heâd earn a free weapon.  though, fiâs had come with personal gain from zsasz.  they way she dealt with pointed weapons was fascinating.
zsasz grabbed one of the rags, though, and tossed it at dean.  sure, he didnât usually even let fi clean the guns.  they were his pride and joy.  but - well why not let dean show his stuff.  âtake the ones in that case,â he said with a nod.
âwhat got you up late today?â
Zsasz was definitely a pretty cool boss. He tolerated him and anyone that tolerated Dean was something he was always grateful for. Much like Zsasz, he found amusement out of irritating people. Though Dean felt Zsasz enjoyed it in a different way, Dean preferred to see that look of annoyance whenever one of his enemies saw they had to deal with him. He made the best of a bad situation, it was his fear tactic. Not that Dean scared often or at all. Deanâs fear mostly was rooted in losing his family and people that he loved. Heâd seen everything else, there wasnât much left to fear, including death. Heâd been there, done that multiple times including this last, most recent time where he wasnât supposed to get yet another chance.Â
Dean grinned widely when he handed him the rag. He wasnât expecting him to provide him with such an esteemed task. He was mostly joking when he asked but he couldnât keep himself from giving a little pump in the air with his fist. âNo shit, seriously?!â He asked him excitedly. He took the rag in his hand and twisted it around a few times, biting at his bottom lip. He loved guns, those were his thing. He knew how to appreciate âtoysâ especially new, shiny ones. He would handle the guns like he did his car, pulling his work keys out of his pocket and beginning to open the case. âYouâre making a great choice, Sir, you can totally trust me with this.â He smirked, wasting no time and picking out the gun he had his eye on for a few weeks. He would dream about what it would feel like in his hands, it reminded him a lot of the Colt, the gun that could kill anything that he had been going through withdrawals of the last few years.Â
He used the rag and immediately began to polish it, âHello, beautiful.â He muttered to himself, turning it over in his hands a few times and aiming it at a target across the room, not nearly stupid enough to actually pull the trigger but it felt amazing in his hands. He focused his attention back to Zsasz when he asked him what had him in so late. He couldnât tell if he was genuinely interested or just looking to reprimand him for something, âWell, that depends, will you fire me if you knew the truth?â He joked, lowering the gun from the position where he had it aimed and beginning to polish the barrel. âOverslept.â He offered with a small shrug, âGuess the partying got a little out of hand.â He teased, âI will make sure to invite you next time but I will warn you, boss, I know how to throw a damn good party. Might even make you want to consider promoting me or at least a raise. Huh? Huh?â He waggled his eyebrows in Zsazâs direction playfully.
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wickedpotionsâ:
THE voice that was in their head was fionaâs.  telling him off.  people who get shot by hunters donât get shot gun, basilton.  back the hell off.  but they wouldnât.  he was tired, frustrated, and lonely.  violet was amazing,  really.  he suspected that sheâd get along wonderfully with snow and bunce.  but it wasnât the same.  it wasnât the same as spending the last eight years of his life getting to see snow at some point in the day, even if it was through sneers and verbal jabs.  it wasnât the same as getting to sit with dev and niall, seeking the understanding and comfort of friends who knew how much weight was on him.  they missed watford, not for the school.  the only reason the actually school meant anything was because of mother.  he missed his friends. (because they were his friends. heâd only ever called them other things to get a rise out of snow).
they sneered at the otherâs words.  sure, maybe they didnât know anything about him, but the feeling was vis versa.  the hunter didnât know that he was in love with the most alive human heâd ever met.  a human that shined brighter than anyone else.  the fire to bazâs cold.  the hope to his pessimism.  and somehow, it turned out that simon snow loved them back.  that they chose baz, in all his cold and cruel walls.  baz wouldnât correct the hunter.  he didnât need to know about simon.  he didnât deserve to know about all of snowâs beauty and strength. Â
but they could correct him on something else.
ânot that it should matter to you, but go check the alleyway.  youâll find a rat,â he snapped.  âwant to hear my list of choices for blood?  rats. squirrels.  a stray cat.  if i really have had a bad day maybe a deer.  you hear human on that list, tough guy?  because i certainly donât.â  even if they wouldnât get thrown out by the mages, likely with his fangs pulled and wand snapped, they wouldnât couldnât bring themselves to drain a human.Â
âso tell me.  going to blow my head off?  someone who never had a damn choice in all of this?â
He really resented that this guy just called his bluff. The very thing he could manage to feel slightly guilty about because he was right, nothing he mentioned was human. Part of him felt disappointed, it would have been so satisfying to be able to chop the doucheâs head off even if just out of pure spit because vampires are the ones that caused his end. Something he still felt incredibly bitter over. Of all the things . . . really? There was also the small problem he didnât have access to anything that would get the job done in the right way. Which resulted in him still feeling completely helpless but the man had a point, he fed off animals, not humans, he wasnât a threat to humanity so if he were to blow his head off, it would be nothing but blind rage, something Sam would never let him hear the end of.Â
âI donât care.â He snapped, still annoyed at the condescending way he referred to him as a âtough guyâ not that Dean was being any help or by any means civil. He was the one aiming the gun at a person that was essentially unarmed. A vampire but still unarmed. âWhat do you want a medal for not killing humans? Not going to happen but thank you for the concern.â He finally did stand down lowering the weapon, it wasnât going to hurt him anyway. I donât give a RATâS ass what choice you had in anything.â Probably being too harsh, he was a vampire himself once and definitely not by choice, ânot a likeness but there is always a choice. I was where you are once so I know there is hope for you, you just have to want it.â
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Valentineâs Day was one of his least favorite holidays. The celebration of love just wasnât his thing, nor was he ever the sort of guy that imagined himself ending up all mushy over someone. He was always the love them and leave them type. He had deemed himself unlovable for years and so him and love didnât mix for the majority of his life. However, that didnât mean he could still enjoy the candy and Valentineâs Day definitely brought the best candy. Besides, love wasnât such a pipe dream for him anymore and it was his first one with that someone that is REALLY special. That someone that accepted ALL of him and not just a facade of what he thought someone else would want. Maybe just maybe he wanted to do something special for Valentineâs Day. It could be fun shopping with all the candy he would want but Laurel deserved something a lot more special.
He wasnât sure what the store was but it looked like it could offer something more special than the average candy or flowers. He smiled at the head he saw peek out. âUmm potion? as in like Harry Potter potion? Thatâs a thing?â He questioned as he quirked his eyebrow in curiosity. He knew witches were real just like he knew spells and hexbags were real but a potion is definitely something a lot different for him. âNot exactly . . . unless you have something that fixes a personality defect.â He joked with a smirk, âNo, I am looking for something special for my girlfriend and I got nothing. I am kind of new to this whole thing. Think you can help me?â
january would soon fade to feburary, and even thought it was just under a month away so many shops in sallow hills had been preparing for that one special date - valentines. the bubbling cauldron was no different, stocks being bought in for dried herbs and effigyâs for favoured love deities of various religions. there was even an offer on, something of nanaâs own doing; buy a love potion, and get a lust potion half price.
not that either of them worked, of course but, some were dumb enough to buy that. magic could only inspire obsession, and serve as an aphrodisiac of course. thatâs what she was brewing when the door went, pulling nana out of her workings, poking her head out from the back room to smile at the customer.Â
âhey. you here for a potion?âÂ
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cheerlessbirdâ:
She wasnât about to pretend that all of this was easy to digest. When there were more unanswered questions, and statements which went against the way she tried to move on from the loss of Dean, she wished in that moment that she could run. If he hadnât pulled away from her to pace the room, she would have physically done it for them. Dinah wanted this all to be real, but what if it was just another cruel trick? Something temporary once again. When he told her that him and Sam always found a way to bring each other back, it was enough to have her look away and stare at the floor.
The way his hands took ahold of her face, her eyes fell shut for a brief second. Was she trying to get rid of him? Hardly. Mostly, she was afraid. Afraid of letting him back into her life once again. And, this time it wasnât in fear of him getting a taste of what life would really be like with her and later realizing that it wasnât what he really wanted. No, this fear stemmed from losing what she knew for years now, was all that she ever wanted. Him. He always had a pull to bring her back to him.
âNo,â she breathed out. Eyes opened once again to take another look at the love of her life. The very person who made her believe that he was made just for her. Her soul was lost without him. She could barely steady herself, gently holding onto his arms. âIâve dreamt this so many times. You, returning to me. That night⊠it never happened. Nothing happened. You came home to me.â
She placed a hand over his heart. In all of her grand hallucinations and dreams, she was never able to feel the rhythmic beat under the palm of her hand. âWhy would you think such a thing?â she questioned, choked sob spilling out as another question followed. âI never wanted you gone!â Before he could calm her down from another bout of hysterics, her lips sought out his. The mere force of it and her body against his was enough to push him back, causing the grip on his arms to become tighter and keep him held firmly against her.
Every kiss held the depth of her love for him, she never hid the vulnerability of what the intimacy met to her. Love, longing, passion, and a fiery lust could be felt in her kisses that she never wanted to end. âIâm sorry,â she panted, kissing him between words. Arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace, keeping him close. It still hurt, even with him there, the pain of having to live day in and night out without him had taken on an exhausting toll on her.
âI wanted you back. I wanted you back every damn day, but your brother⊠well -â She smiled weakly. She hadnât spoken to Sam since that night. Then, there was Jack who made her defiance to bring Dean back seem hopeless. âThere was nothing I could do. So, you want to compare failures?â She laughed, despite of how much it never failed to break her heart. Or, what felt like her heart being painfully squeezed. âI didnât just spend my days living without you, Dean. I spent them hoping my end would come soon, so that I could be with you again.â
No matter how many times or the manner she lost him, there was no moving on without him. âLet me, um, let me clean this for you.â She was looking at the cut on his arm, still fresh with blood from earlier. It was lucky for him that her classroom was equipped with first aid kits, moving over to the small medicine cabinet behind her desk to set the things she needed out, proceeding to pull him over by the hand to hold out the arm with the cut.
âTo answer your question, I would love you if you came back looking like Freddy Kreuger.â Hardly a joking matter, because the sincerity in her eyes was a dead giveaway that she was telling the truth. âYou know what really surprises me? How you havenât made one mention on whether weâre going to discuss these matters back at your place, or mine.â There was a twinkle in her eyes, challenging and encouraging him, continuing to patch up his minor cut. Flirting with him was something she would never tire of, most especially when they had their own abilities in knowing how to rile each other up.
It would never not be hard for him to accept he had someone as wonderful as Laurel that loved him. He spent so much time pushing her away when he realized the way she thought the world of him. He hated himself, hate was even being too generous, he loathed himself in every sense of the word and the way he died did nothing but give him more of a reason to. However, she was worth it, she was always worth it and all that time he spent pushing away, he should have taken advantage of having someone willing to fight it out with him. Sheâd literally do anything for him and heâd do anything to keep her. Sam was always the one person in Deanâs life heâd fight for no matter what but now? he had two. He thought he was in love before but until her, he realized he didnât know what love fully was. Something he was reminded of when he felt her lips capture his. It felt so amazing to be able to kiss her again, unable to keep himself from letting out a soft moan under the hungry kisses. Her warm embrace so inviting, he felt safe. Lifting her up off the ground and into his arms, he never stopped the kiss. It felt different, so different because she believed him now. She was no longer trying to deny the truth that was in front of both of them.Â
âSam was finally done with me, huh?â He joked teasingly offering a simple smile through the tears he was still trying to hold back, trying to stay strong for her. He sighed again, not willing to pull away as he rested his forehead against hers, nuzzling his nose against hers, âjust know if you did, I would understand. I know I am not the easiest to deal with. You have no idea how badly I wish that night never happened. I find myself almost wishing I never went on that hunt but if I didnât and something happened to you or Sam, Iâd not forgive myself even more but vampires? Of all things, it had to be vampires? I resent that I gave them the satisfaction of taking me away from you.â He returned the kisses in between words continuing to hold her as tight as he possibly could, not willing to let her go.Â
He knew she would start to blame herself and that is the last thing he wanted to do. She didnât deserve to hold any sort of burden that involved his personal feelings towards himself. There was nothing anyone can do, except for him. He was the one responsible. He should have done better and he definitely shouldnât have let them make that stupid promise to not try to bring him back. It was his own personal guilt interfering. Feeling he didnât deserve to have another chance after losing to a damn vampire. It was a choice he made on his own but he didnât consider how guilty he felt giving up when he had people to live for. Something he wasnât used to. He had felt the shame in her eyes when he talked about the way him and Sam always brought each other back, she didnât deserve that. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her like that. âNo.â He shook his head, âI am the one that is sorry. I shouldnât have said what I did. I am just angry and embarrassed but that wasnât an excuse. I just felt if I couldnât protect you, both of you, that if I let a vampire take me out, I didnât deserve to live. All the second chances I got when. I am the last person that deserves them. â
When she started to clean the wound. It wasnât lost on him what she said about wishing she were gone so she could be with him again. He grabbed her hand that was attempting to clean the wound, âHey, I donât EVER want to hear you talk like that again.â He scolded, âthe world needs you, okay? it needs more people like you in it. Itâs like Iâve always said, youâre the one who makes this world a better place.â He smiled before kissing her again, a quick, soft peck against the side of her mouth. âYouâre my hero. I am not worth it, remember? Come here. Let me look at you.â He used the arm he had in his possession to pull her closer to him, pulling her onto his lap, slowly running his hand down her face, shaking his head. âYouâre so beautiful.â He breathed, âIâd invite you back to my place but I wouldnât want your boyfriend coming after me, despite the fact I got a shot gun in the backseat with his name on it.â He chuckled, pressing another passionate kiss against her lips, knocking the first aid kit out of her hand before throwing her onto her desk, cleaning everything off it with one solid sweep of his hand. He wasnât a person that stood on ceremony when it came to how much his girl turned him on, âbut then again Iâve never been a person that cares what anyone else thinks.â He smirked pressing another passionate kiss to her lips, pinning her underneath him and thrusting his hips against her, âFreddy Kruegerâs got nothing on me.â He whispered against her ear. âSo when are you going to ditch that good for nothing loser and run away with me?âÂ
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casualsabctageâ:
âNo, I definitely have nothing to do with it. Iâm not like Chuck. I donât play games with people just for my own amusement.â Jack was very different than the kind of God Chuck was. That guy only did it for his own amusement and when he got bored, he just created another world. It was crazy. Itâs why Jack decided to restore Heaven. To make it a good place for everyone that deserves it. He never expected to be this powerful and he knew that many people had doubted him over the years. This was sort of his way to prove that he never had any bad intentions. That he would never follow into his fatherâs footsteps. There had been times where he doubted himself, and every time he heard Dean talk to Sam, not saying the nicest words about him, he thought of leaving. It was obvious he wasnât always liked but he tried his best to show that he wasnât evil. He might not have made the best choices in the past and some things still haunt him to this day, but in the end, it all worked out. Sam lived a long and happy life, Deanâs life was cut short but he ended up in Heaven, surrounded by the people he loved and cared about. He got Cas out of the Empty and together they restored Heaven. It was a good ending. âThat would be something youâd do but I doubt youâd be able to. Heaven has changed for the better, but that doesnât make it easier to leave. But no, Iâm not here to bring you back there. You know, me being here should tell you that much as I normally donât show my face on Earth anymore. What unfinished business?â
Dean would never openly say it outloud but if anyone could restore not only his faith in heaven but his faith in general, it would be Jack. Dean wasnât a religious person, religion didnât even exist in his vocabulary and his experiences over the last forty one years of his life definitely didnât help anything. In fact, it did nothing but cause him to distrust the system that much more. He found out God was everything he expected him to be. A fucked up asshat that thought playing with peopleâs lives especially his and Samâs was a good time. He purposefully drug them through hell, purposefully didnât save them or help them . . . ever. He let every last awful thing happen to them on purpose and at HIS hand. That wasnât something he would just get over. But Jack? He was different. He was good despite who his father is. A fact Dean often does forget since the kid had become theirs. His, Samâs and Casâs. They loved him like a son, especially Sam and Cas. As for Dean well . . . he still held that uneasy feeling that evil is destined for Jack somewhere and if he had the choice, Jack was the easiest one to compromise as far as sacrifice. Besides, he was part archangel was it even fully possible for him to die anyway? The answer to that proven on more than one occasion but he never stayed down long, similar to team freewill. âI am not saying you do, just trying to make sense of what I am doing here. All these years I was told I am meant for something bigger than me, something special and that was the grand finale? Impaled at the hands of a few Twilight fuckers? Couldnât you have come up with something better, man? Like sacrificing myself for the world? You couldnât even give me saving Sam, come on!â He was mostly teasing but for being someone that was always willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good, dying so . . . carelessly was disappointing compared to what he thought his fate would end up being.
âWait so . . . youâre saying you donât know how or WHY youâre here either? but Youâre God.â He stated in confusion. "Seriously if you donât have the power in this, who does?â He hoped it meant no one and he really did have free reign of his own fate but if there was someone else really in charge, that idea was terrifying because in his experience, it was never anything good. âAre you mojo less? Great. I actually have an advantage of someone useful but heâs nothing but a powered down engine.â He let out a sigh. He felt badly being so frustrated at Jack when none of this was his fault. He was mostly frustrated at himself more than anything. âUnfinished business I never got as a hunter. I have a life now, man, I have someone that loves me, who I can see a future with and there is still a whole world out there that needs help. Only when the monsters are gone weâll be done. Who is going to pester Sam about being a nerd without me around? The poor kid probably wandered around like a lost puppy with no one to follow. The world ainât ready to be done with me yet.â He grinned smugly, placing his hand back on Jackâs shoulder again, giving it a gentle shake. âPromise me something, when it is time for me to REALLY be gone, give me something a little more epic, kapiche?â
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wickedpotionsâ:
ZSASZ knew most bosses would be on dean about being late for the third day in a row.  but really, the shop wasnât usually busy unless some kinda attack from the creatures in the forest had happened.  if dean-o was a bit late, he was a bit late.  if zsasz was really worried about it, he could simply schedule him earlier so he would actually be on time.  but he got donuts out of it. sweet, delicious donuts.  things when heâd briefly been vegan just werenât the same. heâd kept the vegetarian part, but without butter and cheese and milk and eggs.  well, it just wasnât the same.
he raised an eyebrow at the coffee cup slid his way, but grabbed it as well and took a long drag out of it.  really, it was clear that it was a bribe.  you donât work for gotham and not know a bribe when you see one.  sure, it wasnât the same kind of bribes falcon or oswald got, but it was a bribe none-the-less.  and really, he had to admire deanâs balls for doing it. most people wouldnât so blatantly bribe their boss. well, maybe.  he wasnât sure.  hadnât really ever worked for someone normal after all.
incoming shipment.  ha.  did zsasz even give out the inventory list for the incoming shipment?  well he definitely didnât give the entire list.  some things were just for him.  but the other list?  he probably did, mainly because fi wouldâve looked it over.  he did have a hard time believing dean had studied it.
âi believe harassing customers is my job,â he shot back before pausing and putting a finger over his chin.  âno, i think the word thatâs been used is âcreepingâ out the customers.â
he drummed his fingers on the glass cabinet, thinking.  he tended to prefer to clean the weapons himself.  it was soothing, and he liked seeing them shine.  âhow about you restock the camping era and man the register if people come in.  iâm going to clean up some of the guns that need a polish.â
Dean chuckled at the mention of harassing the customers being his job. Usually it would have been flirting with the customers at least before he found Laurel now that was a thing of the past. He never pictured himself as someone that would commit to one person but she managed to break all of his rules. She broke them despite all of his attempts to try to talk her out of giving him a chance. No matter how hard he tried, he couldnât get her off of his mind. She was everything he could have ever wanted and more. If he was going to make it work with anyone, it was her and he was excited about it. Something that is also very different for him. He clinked his foam coffee cup against his, âhere is to you being a creeper and me harassing the customers.â There really was no denying Zsasz the fact he really was pretty creepy. Dean remembered when he first met him how unsure he was of him. It took him a bit to trust him and even now Dean didnât trust him completely. There was something about him that seemed to tell Dean he might have a hidden agenda of some kind but who was he to judge? That was his personal MO and the truth was he DID have a hidden agenda and that was to hunt monsters but Zsasz never gave him the impression he was that sort of monster.
He tried not to groan too loudly at the suggestion of manning the register. He really wasnât the biggest people person but as long as the boss indirectly acknowledged harassing the customers is okay (at least in Deanâs interpretation) it was going to be a fun day. He gave him a quick salute, âRoger that, boss nothing better than a dayâs worth of paper or plastic.â He stated sarcastically with a fake smile as he headed off towards the camping era. Something Dean actually didnât mind. It was the host of a mock campsite with a sleeping bag and the most comfortable air mattress heâs ever felt in his life. Dean would know because heâd laid it on more than a few times. Something that didnât change here as he moseyed his way to the campsite, crawling onto the air mattress and putting his feet up. He moved the lantern just out of the way so he could have more room, looking back at Zsasz with a wide grin. âRestocked!â He exclaimed smugly, âwhen is it my turn to play with the guns and when do I get one of these for the employee discount of free?âÂ
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