Okay, until LJ get the act together and stops royally fucking up the formatting when editing entries... my masterpost will NOT be updated. I'm so sorry guys, but I don't have the patience to sit there and continually edit the entry every time I need to update it to reflect a new story. I may do a mass update soon on it, but ATM... no. :<
Regardless, I was checking on my FF.net account, and realized there were several Spooks and Shotguns that hadn't been updated on this end yet. So I'm sharing. :D
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Challenge word: Misfortune
Meaning: Bad or ill luck; an undesirable event or circumstance.
Word Count: 500 on the first shot, no rewrites. *smug*
Time Frame: Adult, Season 2, right after Born Under A Bad Sign
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers possibly for Born Under A Bad Sign, bad language.
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Dean rotated the small piece of metal, listening with a half an ear as Bobby answered Sammy. “Charms. They’ll fend off possession. That demon is still out there. This’ll stop it from getting back up in you.”
Dean tipped his head, making a note to find his length of leather in the back of the Impala. “That sounds vaguely dirty, but thanks.” He’d string it up on a chunk of the leather, hang it with Sam’s Amulet. Sam wasn’t one for necklaces, but the damned kid would sure as hell wear this one. Yes sir.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Turns out, wearing two necklaces at the same time, tends to wind up with them twisting together. After spending five minutes untangling the mess of metal and leather for the seemingly-hundredth time, he gave up on wearing two separate necklaces. After his shower, he carefully unworked the knot holding Sam’s Amulet on, and threaded the anti-possession charm on. Reknotted the leather, slid it on, and contemplated the odd sensation of being a dog as the two metal pieces tinkled together merrily.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Turns out, Sam’s Amulet didn’t like having a hitchhiker. At least, not hitchhikers that weren’t Sammy’s fingers. After finding the charm separate from his necklace for the seventh straight morning in a row, he settled on stringing it on a much smaller piece of leather, and knotted it around his ankle, so the charm rested in the small hollow just behind the bone of his ankle. Girly, yes… but he could pull his sock over it, and it’s not like anyone would notice. And he wouldn’t have to worry about Meg coming back to literally bite him in the ass. Problem solved.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
“Son of a bitch!” He stomped across the room, picking up the small piece of metal. The damned thing was becoming a serious, serious pain in the ass. He’d lost count of the number of times that he’d snapped the leather by accident removing his socks, and that was after cutting it (he didn’t really stop to think that the leather would shrink once it got wet… and having it cut into his skin really wasn’t all that pleasurable), and switching ankles after it rubbed a blister, caught between his boot and his skin. He glared at the little charm, eyes narrowed. There had to be a way. Sam’s charm wasn’t giving him trouble.
He finally secured it on the laces of his boot. That would hold it.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
After digging through rotten leaves, he held up the little charm from where it fell when the wendigo clawed at him. “Dude, seriously?” Sam just shook his head, stomping back to the car.
Dean glared at the evil charm, eyes narrowed. “It’s war, now.”
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dean hissed as he tugged off the surgical tape holding the gauze against his chest, peering at the new ink glistening on his skin. Sam snorted, shaking his head as he made his way to the bathroom, and Dean just grinned. “Can’t lose it now!”