The Poison

I used to think I knew what was right. What to kill, what to save, what to lie about and cheat for and steal. But now... Now all I know, is that I am the poison in the world. {Indie rp!blog for Dean Winchester from Supernatural. Non-Selective}

[selfdeceptionarchive-blog]

In a Galaxy Far, Far Away [ Cop!Dean & Serial Killer!Sam ]

[notworththeworld]

    He hasn't heard that voice in years. Not since he vanished off to school to pursue the one thing in life he'd always dreamed of doing. And now here he was, back at home making breakfast like he'd never even had a thought to leave in his mother's kitchen who had just left him alone with the childhood friend he'd abandoned and oh my god the nerves he hadn't prepared for slam into him all at once. Sucking in a breath before he even has a chance to turn around, Dean sets the shaking spatula in his hands on the counter, steadying his thoughts just long enough to tell his body to move. And here he is, face to face with a man he could swear is his brother.

    "Hey." Wow, stunning conversationalists the two of them, could write an entire book on their witty banter. The perfectly pressed high collared stunningly white shirt hugging his lithe hips pools at his stomach, overflowing from the top of his tightly cinched suit pants the moment he folds his arms across his midriff, careful to side-step away from the stove top in case of stray flying grease.

    "I uh... Mom wanted to wake you up, just so you know. I would've, but... you know how she is. Can't stop the woman from standing in front of a train if she puts her mind to it." Its a weak argument, and one he didn't even need to make. He shouldn't be defending why he wasn't there when Sam awoke. He should be apologizing for up and leaving without warning.

[notworththeworld]

    Dean thought he was the kind of guy to be able to handle anything. Hell, he'd dealt with losing best friends to gangs, drugs, women, jobs, a wandering heart, you name it. He'd seen the seedy underbelly of his hometown and more violence than he cared to admit to. So being told by someone that they'd killed their best friend without remorse should not have made him blink twice. But it did. Being faced down, stared at, and told step by step how it happened... To say the least his face paled.

    Almost immediately his rear leaves the mattress, a timid smirk plastered on his face for show as he steps back to lean against the closed bars. And then that not-so-idle threat all but growled at him. Its not likely that he'll be sleeping any time soon. Or that his guard will be down in the four months he's going to be here. Lest he find himself on the business end of those hands. And not in the way he'd want.

    "Yeah...lucky me I get stuck with the homicidal friend-killer." To think, if he could do that to his closest friend, what the hell could he do to a mouthy stranger who'd never once held a weapon that wasn't his own two hands? The thought is enough to disquiet his easy nature, setting tool calloused fingers to trembling the moment they're tucked out of sight. Maybe its best he stay out of sight, disappear onto the top bunk and wait it out until meal time...

    Almost dead silent, he patters around to the side ladder, climbing on top to lay on his side, back pressed hard against the wall. As far away from the edge as he can get.

[notworththeworld]

    Rough hands smooth down the sides of his rugged jeans, viridian orbs tracing that visage carefully. Red stains more than the floor, more than his fingers, more than his clothes. Its all he sees when he hears that voice begging him to come back.

    Its too late.

    The words echo in the forefront of his mind, dancing between pearly whites bared in a sneer before he even knows why. Sam had his chance. Sam had his chance at everything. He threw it away for a brother who couldn't be bothered to give a damn. He was the greatest idiot of them all.

    "Y'see, if I know the Winchester playbook, and I do, that's gotta be the worst ploy in the history of ploys to get me to come back." Brow raised, Dean sidles closer to his pet, extending a crimson soaked hand to stroke behind the pup's ears.

    "You expect me to believe you're just gonna let me waltz around sporting black eyes, free as a damn bird to do whatever the hell I want, whenever?" The softest snort of derision leaves him the moment he shifts and sits in the chair at his heels, thick digits trailing along the hellhound's prominent spine.

[notworththeworld]

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[semirahrose]

mary elizabath frye | (more lyric/poetry edits)

[heytheredeann]

‘cause that’s what I said I would do from the start [x]

[selfdeception]

back. sorta. blame my dean.

[littlelordbrat]

I would love to go back to the old house but I never will 

[spnaturalconfessions]

[sasquatchandleatherjacket]

It scares the hell out of me | 1x20

[littlelordbrat]

Close your eyes Have no fear The monster’s gone He’s on the run and your daddy’s here.

simpler times ♚

[heytheredeann]

[littlelordbrat]

My love for you shall live forever. You, however, did not. — For Beatrice, Lemony Snicket.

[notworththeworld]

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[hanginggardenstories]

A GUIDE FOR YOUNG LADIES ENTERING THE SERVICE OF THE FAIRIES, by Rosamund Hodge

I.

This is the lie they will use to break you: no one else has ever loved this way before.

II.

Choose wisely which court you serve. Light or Dark, Summer or Winter, Seelie or Unseelie: they have many names, but the pith of the choice is this: a poisoned flower or a knife in the dark?

(The difference is less and more than you might think.)

Of course, this is only if you go to them for the granting of a wish: to save your father, sister, lover, dearest friend. If you go to get someone back from them, or—most foolish of all—because you fell in love with one of them, you will have no choice at all. You must go to the ones that chose you.

III.

Be kind to the creature that guards your door. Do not mock its broken, bleeding face.

It will never help you in return. But I assure you, someday you will be glad to know that you were kind to something once.

IV.

Do not be surprised how many other mortal girls are there within the halls. The world is full of wishing and of wanting, and the fairies love to play with human hearts.

You will meet all kinds: the terrified ones, who used all their courage just getting there. The hopeful ones, who think that love or cleverness is enough to get them home. The angry ones, who see only one way out. The cold ones, who are already half-fairy.

I would tell you, Do not try to make friends with any of them, but you will anyway.

V.

Sooner or later (if you serve well, if you do not open the forbidden door and let the monster eat you), they will tell you about the game.

Summer battles Winter, Light battles Dark. This is the law of the world. And on the chessboard of the fairies, White battles Black.

In the glory of this battle, the pieces that are brave and strong may win their heart’s desire.

VI.

You already have forgotten how the mortal sun felt upon your face. You already know the bargain that brought you here was a lie.

If you came to save your sick mother, you fear she is dead already. If you came to free your captive sister, your fear she will be sent to Hell for the next tithe. If you came for love of an elf-knight, you are broken with wanting him, and yet he does not seem to know you.

Say yes.

Keep reading

[mooseleys]

Rufus Turner appreciation for anon

[notworththeworld]

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