hasperkynipples: (but only to create)
[personal profile] hasperkynipples
[Started here.]

[laughs a bit at that before turning to face her more]

Even if I can't help it?
hasperkynipples: (shadows are my friends)
[personal profile] hasperkynipples
“You like me.”

Dean looked up from the cup of coffee he was fixing at the counter, and flashed her a lazy grin. The grin wasn’t a lie but it was a cover. Dean hadn’t liked a girl this much since Cassie, and considering the way that things with Cassie ended, he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it. But he did like Lana, which kept him swinging back into town over and over again, even though he really didn’t need to be there. This was Smallville after all.

“Is that a problem for you?” he teased. “Usually people like to be liked.”

“I didn’t say it was a problem,” she teased right back, moving around the counter to stand closer to him. “I was just stating a fact.”

“Fair enough,” he mused, trying to figure out what she was getting at. Flirting with Lana Lang was like playing in a mine field, but the fun kind. She was hard to predict and that’s what made her even more intriguing. “Do you have any more facts for me?”

“Not facts,” she paused. “But I do have an opinion.”

*** )
hasperkynipples: ([dean] impala)
[personal profile] hasperkynipples
If Dean wasn’t used to the idea of the world ending, it might have surprised him when the Kandorians took over. Instead, his reaction fell more along the lines of well, shit, what else is new?

He really wasn’t looking to fight another Apocalypse, let alone two at the same time, but it was looking like he wasn’t having much of a choice. Upside of the Kandorians asserting themselves as the dominant race, however, is that they had a cure for Croatoan before it could decimate what was left of the humans. The downside? The red sun was awesome for vampires.

But then again, that’s what Dean had Slayers for.

They were holed up in what was left of the Hyperion Hotel, the five of them—Dean, Faith, Buffy, Cas, and Angel. They had contacts, other factions in other towns, with people they could count on, who were keeping the vampire population down to a minimum, but there was still only so much they could do. They needed to get rid of this red sun—which involved taking on the Kandorians, and that was something that just wasn’t in their wheelhouse. It was aliens, for Christ’s sake. So for the time being they were hiding out until they came up with a plan B.

That plan B happened to come in the form of a resistance movement, with a side of vampires.

Dean and Cas had been bouncing around from city to city ever since the invasion started, until they finally met up with Buffy and Faith and crashed at the Hyperion. There used to be more of them, but between the vampires, the demons, and the Kandorians, their numbers dwindled slowly. They did their best to save who they could, and mourned those they couldn’t.

There were days when Dean still expected Dawn to bound down the stairs and throw her latest theory out at him, all sunshine and smiles despite everything else going on around them, but those were getting few and farther between. For Buffy, he was pretty sure they never really stopped.

Just like he never stopped seeing Sam.

*** )
manorsuperman: (fear)
[personal profile] manorsuperman
[Lana insisted Dean come back home when he found his brother and was glad to see he listened. Not that she hadn't expected him to, but with things as crazy as they were, she wasn't sure what to expect anymore.

She made sure he was comfortable on the couch, then pulled his favorite beer from the fridge along with a slice of homemade pie.

There was a look, though, a look she knew very well.

She handed off the beer, but kept the plate in her hands as she sat.]


So are we going to talk about it or are you planning on eating your feelings?
hasperkynipples: ([animated] damnit)
[personal profile] hasperkynipples
[so, slowly but surely he's revealing himself as being Dean Winchester to the rest of his Smallville friends, and one of those people turned out to be Mrs. Kent. Thankfully, she took it well -- she just decided to hold it over his head by putting him to work.

To be honest, he didn't mind. It was something to do when Lana wasn't around, and he liked the old house. It reminded him of home, but in a good way.

He decided to start with the yard work today, raking up the leaves into piles for him to put into bags and move off the lawn. And for the most part, he thinks he's alone.

Thinks being the operative word.]
hasperkynipples: ([dean] glare)
[personal profile] hasperkynipples
It had been a week and a half since Sam died.

In that week and half, Dean's spent seventy-five percent of it drunk, which is better than the hundred percent it would have been if it hadn't been for Lana. In fact, if it hadn't been for Lana, he probably would have died of alcohol poisoning by now. He never would have made it to Indiana, and his promise to his brother would be broken, but that wouldn't really matter because he would have been dead.

He still wasn't all that convinced that him not being a dead is all that great an idea, but he's slowly warming up to the idea. Slowly. And Lana was a big part of that. Technically, he wasn't quite fulfilling the promise he made to his brother -- he was pretty sure that Lisa was mentioned specifically -- but Dean had a feeling that this was a better fit. Dean actually loved Lana. And he's seventy-five percent sure that she still loved him too.

Love wasn't always enough though. It had been a week and a half, and he still wanted to crawl into a bottle and never come out. There were still things after him, things that had left him demon and ghost proofing Lana's apartment like an insane person, and there's some small part of him that thought that she probably was thinking that he was just that, insane, but at the end of the day he was keeping her safe, whether he was there or not, and that alone made him feel better. But he still wasn't sure he fit. He knew that she had her friends and her life, and he was never going to fit into that scenario -- he never had in the first place, but he was even more broken than he was when he first came to Smallville. The Apocalypse had chewed him up and spit him out several times over, and he didn't know if he could do this. He was trying, but every once in a while he would have these moments.

Moments where he was alone, his eyes would fall on his car keys sitting on Lana's counter, and that urge to leave would rear it's ugly head. Sometimes it hit stronger than others, and today was one of those days. Lana was taking a shower, he was sitting in her living room, staring at the keys to his car, and before he could even stop himself, he was moving. He was getting up, crossing the room, and cool metal was in his hand. Next thing he was turning and heading for the door -- he needed to do this, rip off the band-aid and just be gone before he made things worse. Lana would understand later.

In fact, Lana would probably thank him for this later.

His hand closed around the door knob, and he pulled it open, but what was behind it stopped him dead in his tracks and kept him from going any further out of sheer surprise alone.

"Chloe," he managed to stammer out after a moment of dead silence. " ... Hi."
hasperkynipples: ([sam] across the room)
[personal profile] hasperkynipples
Dean’s first meteor shower was probably one of the most terrifying experiences of his life.

Dean’s stared down some pretty bad things in his time—demons, Wendigos, ghosts—and he’d faced them all down with a hard stare and an idea of how to fix it, but this was different. This … this time the sky was falling, and there was nothing they could do to save themselves. Because when it came down to it—how do you outrun the sky?

You can’t.

The sky was falling, and Dean couldn’t find Lana anywhere.

He’s ninety-five percent certain that that bitch Isobel was behind it, but he has no way to prove it. The mark of transference or whatever, was still there. He should have known better than to think that just destroying the book meant that the witch’s spirit was gone for good. He should have been sharper, and should have questioned why the mark was still there if Isobel wasn’t, but he didn’t. He was just happy to have his girl back, and he didn’t think of the future. He never thought of the future. It’s why he wasn’t a better hunter.

*** )
imnot_likeyou: (although i wish that it weren't)
[personal profile] imnot_likeyou
Sam had long since given up on trying to predict where Dean’s farewell tour was going to take them. They had already hit the great burger joints and one night stands of Dean’s short yet eventful life, and none of them had seemed to convince Dean that fighting to get out of this deal was worth doing. Sam kept hoping that one of them would smack some sense into him, make him see that there was something worth living for, but so far, none of them have seemed to work. Each stop only proved to make Sam more and more frustrated, but as the days were counting down, the stops seemed to get more and more poignant. There had to be something along the way that would snap Dean out of it, so Sam had to just keep hoping and keep digging.

The last stop was the one stop that he hadn’t expected.

They were driving straight down Route 56, when Sam’s head had to practically whip around as they passed the sign informing them what state they were entering. “Kansas?” he frowned. Dean tended to avoid Kansas like the plague, but his brother didn’t glance at him to acknowledge the question.

“Smallville.”

It was enough to confirm, no, they were not going to Lawrence, but still not enough to give Sam any idea as to what was going on. “Okay,” he said softly, turning his eyes back to the road, and trying to figure out what his brother could have possibly left behind in Smallville.

By the time they actually hit town the next day, Sam was still no closer to having an explanation. They had stopped over for the night the night before, and Sam had used the time while his brother was in the shower to do some quick research, but other than a high penchant for the unexplained, though nothing that seemed to be up their alley, he had no idea what would draw his brother to that particular small Kansas town. But he had given up trying to ask about it, and figured that this would be revealed to him as Dean felt like revealing it.

*** )
howruthless: ([tess] smirk)
[personal profile] howruthless
Clark is a hero, and Tess believes in him.

Tess doesn’t believe in much.

There’s too much evil in the world. She’s bred from it. She has red hair and the killer instincts, all the marks of a Luthor that make her dangerous and deadly. She has been raised in a world full of wolves, of people who take what they want from you without any regard for what it does to you. Her father took her innocence, Oliver took her heart and Lex took her trust. By the time they finish, there’s nothing left but a cold woman who would rather conquer the world than live in it. She wants the world to burn under her feet, and Lex’s money and power gives her the means to do it. Add in Queen Industries, and Tess Mercer has the world at her fingertips. And according to her pride, that’s supposed to be enough.

And then there’s people like Clark.

Actually, there’s only Clark.

Clark saves the world without cause to, without any expectation of reward—or need of it, for that matter. Tess doesn’t understand him, but he opens her world again, gives her a messiah to follow in a world that lacks one. It’s almost as though he doesn’t see the darkness that leaks at the corners, threatening to swallow everything whole. He doesn’t see the things coming to destroy him, he doesn’t see the world that would tear him down and nail him to their own version of a cross. Judas lurks in every corner, in every face, and the wolves in the world would rather control him than let him save them.

*** )
hasperkynipples: ([dean] why me)
[personal profile] hasperkynipples
When Dean arrived in Smallville, he didn’t want to be Dean Winchester.

It was just after Sam’s twenty-first birthday, and Dean had been driving ever since he left Stanford. He hadn’t seen his brother for his birthday. He hadn’t been the one to take him to a bar for the first time legally and getting him wasted. Sam had friends for that now. He didn’t need his father, or his brother, apparently. He could find replacements for all of them in his shiny new life in Palo Alto. What the hell did he need Dean for?

What the hell did anyone need Dean for?

He wasn’t sure what brought on this sudden bout of self-loathing, or maybe it wasn’t all that sudden at all. Ever since Cassie, things in Dean’s life just seemed to keep slipping lower and lower, and while he didn’t know how to fix it, he knew that he just wanted a break. He left his dad hunting a coven in Wyoming, dropped by Stanford to make sure Sam was still in one piece, then headed east. He rolled into Smallville with the intention of just disappearing obscurely into some small town where no one knew his name. He wouldn’t do what his brother did. He would answer the phone if someone needed him, but beyond that, Dean Winchester was off the grid. And until necessary, he wasn’t coming back.

He pulled the Impala into a parking spot in front of a building called the Talon, and made his way inside. It was a slow afternoon, and there weren’t a whole lot of people around, just an odd coffee drinker and the girl behind the counter. He strode his way over, leaning against the counter as he looked around. The girl had a great ass and a pretty smile, and when she turned around, there was that small falter in the smile before it widened, a sign of interest if he ever saw one.

*** )
hasperkynipples: ([text] batman)
[personal profile] hasperkynipples
Dean didn't know what he was doing in Smallville.

He shouldn't be in Smallville. He was supposed to be in Indiana, with Lisa and Ben, trying to see if he could handle living the normal, apple pie life, but he wasn't getting there. He wasn't even sure if he really wanted to go. All he knew was that he had made a promise to Sam to get out, and he didn't know if he could do it.

He had only left Lawrence a few hours ago, but he hadn't made it very far before being in serious need of a hard drink. In fact, it was the kind of drinking that he really didn't want to come up from, but after the very butch bartender of the Rusty Nail (worst bar name ever, in his humble opinion) decided that he needed to be cut off for the night, he paid his tab and stumbled his way out, hands fumbling in his pockets for his keys. He wasn't planning on driving -- that car was all he had left, and he wasn't about to destroy it -- but he needed somewhere to sleep, and he wasn't going to make it to a motel. Back seat was comfortable enough -- wasn't like he hadn't done it before.

The cool, fresh night air hit him like a blast to the face and woke him up a bit, making him sway a little less and walk a little straighter. He was surprised that he had even had enough sense not to just buy his own booze and give himself alcohol poisoning, but he had, and right now, he just wanted to sleep it off. He pulled the keys out of his pocket and went to unlock the passenger's side door, one hand rubbing his face slowly as he did.

Tomorrow was going to suck, and not just because of the hangover.

[If you need more ... lemme know?]

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A Short Trip to Hell

April 2012

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