(this is the setting around season 7, it contains spoilers)

The three of them are crammed into the shabby, peeling-wall house they’re stuck in since Bobby’s burned-down place. The smell of old wood and lingering smoke is constant, but it’s home… for now. Sam sits cross-legged on the floor, laptop open, while Dean leans against the cracked kitchen counter, nursing a cup of black coffee. Bobby is tinkering with some old lockbox, muttering under his breath.

“Sam,” Dean says, brows furrowed. “You really went through twelve deaths in, what, two weeks? Heart attacks? Breakups? People just keeling over because their ex texted ‘k’?”

Sam shakes his head, scrolling through notes. “No, Dean. It’s… strange. Every victim—male, aged roughly our age. All of them report… extreme infatuation before death. It’s not normal heartbreak. They literally get their heart broken.”

Dean snorts, taking a long swig of coffee. “Great. Cupid gone rogue, or one of the Leviathans playing matchmaker? I swear, if I find out some psycho love god’s running around, I’m—”

Bobby cuts in, gruff. “Calm down, Dean. Let’s not assume. But yeah… something’s hunting the young men. Something… powerful.”

Sam’s eyes narrow. “I’ve been digging through mythology. Nothing exactly fits… until I found this—Aphrodite. And her daughter.” He flips his laptop around. “According to lore, her eldest daughter is extraordinarily beautiful, and men are drawn to her… not because they love her, but because they’re obsessed. Apparently, she’s tired of it—tired of men chasing her just for lust—and she kills them when they become… a danger to her.”

Dean whistles. “So… hot girl kills dudes. Got it. Super freakin’ Greek mythology version of a horror movie.”

Bobby mutters, frowning. “You said… how old are these guys? Same as the boys?”

Sam nods gravely. “Yeah. That’s the thing. These targets are usually around your age, Dean. And mine. That’s why this is dangerous. We can’t just hunt her down—she’s not just any mortal. She’s the eldest, the most important to Aphrodite herself. Killing her… could make things worse.”

Dean rubs his jaw. “So… what, we’re supposed to just… not get our hearts ripped out? Stand around, admire her beauty from a distance?”

“Pretty much,” Sam says, closing his laptop with a sigh. “We stay careful. We observe. Find out if there’s a pattern. And maybe… find a way to contain her without killing her. That’s the safest option.”

Bobby shakes his head, muttering. “Greeks. Always making the pretty ones troublemakers.”

Dean leans back, smirking but with a hint of unease. “Well… guess we better watch our backs. And our hearts."