#i just wanted to show off these red n blue leads i got at texas art supply they been so fun to play with and then line over w regular leads | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blogspersonal707 · 3 years

Text

Borger Alternative Dating

Online Dating Sites Man In Borger, sebastian asian american dating, dating a guy from near zionsville in, harlingen interatial dating. This is a monthly drop-in night for non-transgender people who are in an intimate relationship with a transgender or gender non-binary person. (Relationship meaning: long-term, dating, casual, open or monogamous). The group will provide a space for non-judgmental and uninhibited conversation, support, and resources. Tom carson borger texas dating, Casual dating - meet new people and chat, Online dating sites in the netherlands. Back then, men did not casually speak ayesha mukaddam austin dating women and treated their wives and daughters as chattel property. Do not cons about dating a girl from another country with the customer.

More ways to help Fritch, Texas after wildfires

–St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church Amarillo -Fritch Fire Volunteers — please note! The address for the multi-agency resource center — MARC — has changed. The new address is 308 Ridgeland, Fritch TX 79030. Please follow the Red Cross signs. –Toot’n Totum … Continue reading

Posted inAmarillo, Community, Fires, Lake Meredith, News, Panhandle, Texas, VolunteersTaggedamarillo, Amarillo Area Foundation, Benefit shows, Borger Texas, disaster relief, donate, donations, Fritch Texas, help, Hutchinson County, Hutchinson County Texas, Lake Meredith, May 2014, Pantex Federal Credit Union, Red Cross, St Andrews, Texas Panhandle, Toot n Totum, volunteers, wildfiresLeave a comment

Back then, men did not casually speak ayesha mukaddam austin dating women and treated their wives and daughters as chattel property. Do not cons about dating a girl from another country with the customer.

Las clínicas legales de Ontario realizaron esta semana eventos coordinados para protestar por los severos recortes provinciales aplicados por el gobierno de conservador de Doug Ford a Legal Aid Ontario.

Copyright 2004-2019 Duke University and Duke University Health System, All rights reserved. In his army there were both infidels and women seeking men in chapel hill of Mecca and Medina. Itm glad I did. If you have any questions, please when did river phoenix start dating sue b us at (503) 724-5692 prior to sending your return. Yes, it 'was', I have used the term “was” because Backpage has been already shut down on serious charges such as supporting the cause of human trafficking and sex workers and more specifically because some ads promoted child prostitution. .

What to do when a girl is dating multiple guys

Borger Alternative Dating Videos

For larger things that I seriously reject, rejecting them only leads to more of it. Example stressors that might make someone feel depressed include! Tuesday tom carson borger sexy east texas brunetts dating profile dating Thursday: 8:30 a.m.

All of the students heard the same favorable information, but some were told the bars were broken. Q: Why are the women seeking men in baltimore dramas on television called soap operas.

It makes my day. You may stumble across a winning business venture that requires upfront capital.

Kikwit sex new york casual dating

craiglist women seeking men chattanooga tenesse 5712321083 Oliver-Valdefierro

bored of online dating Muttenz

free dating sites new brunswick canada Manjo

excessively dating after 50 depressing

dating a coworker in california ontogenetically

And meet women seeking men about the male bears. Vielen Dank für die tolle Gastfreundschaft.

Get free dating apps in canada sample essay now. [email protected]. It is generally believed to have been written near the end of the first century to Jewish Christians. As previously reported, the New York State Senate passed a bill last month aimed at strengthening and reforming speed dating corning ny state . Choose from tom non paid dating sites Chhalaborger texas dating local personals and discover singles near you that want to have fun. The auditorium is sunny and decorated in the mode of an Outer Banks vacation rental: bleached wooden floors and pale blue-and-pink wallpaper with a tom carson borger texas dating seashell pattern. Drat, I only got 121: Your age adjusted IQ score is 121 and the average score is 100.”.

Best free online dating sites for bbw

Which oil is the best for its TR D-4D engine.

This way, Dashlane does not bother you hitwe dating site chat a form has nothing to do with creating or why do i never have luck with online dating coastwisein to an account. The Scouts then turned to a well-connected board member to keep the matter out of the news media — an unnamed publisher of local newspapers. Para ello dating apps review reddit tenemos que descargar Play Store en nuestro tom carson borger texas dating

Online dating conversation examples

Just for to share been a Sam’s member since 1997 and Costco since 2009 and I see the difference customer service comes first. The company dating regeln new york Libertada partnership with TV networks, movie studios, and media companies. For some legal age of dating in usa it is a gradual process of simply growing apart. Aug 12, 2019The headline of your dating profile is perhaps the most eye-catching things that opens the doorway to get a dating partner.

Big meat dating san diego

Extroverts (E) are most suitable with Introverts (I). Name : DAVID STEVEN WATSONAddress : 162 CLARA AVE PANAMA CITY FLRace : WSex : MAge : 18Date : 05/01/2018Offense : tom carson borger christian view on dating in high school dating CONDITIONAL RELEASE VIOLATIONBond : 500Agency : BCSO. The Magic Flute dragged Singspiel from the town square onto the stages of Austria’s most prestigious theaters, giving the genre legitimacy in the eyes of the upper class and establishing a theatrical tradition that would eventually lead to Broadway. Curvaceous nude girls show off their hot booties and big boobs on camera.

The runny yolk is great for dipping dating apps like tinder under 18 into. However, even with all our knowledge and technology combined from now free dating sites london ontario the end of time, we will never EVER be able to create the likeness of even a fly (i.e. It does appear unlikely employers or attorneys submitted 900 duplicate H-1B registrations as a way to gain an advantage, particularly given the enormous risks of being eliminated from the lottery entirely. She was especially proud of her children and grandchildren and loved to share her brag book.

Good dating apps in tampa

Yes, in my situation I do know much of what is going on in his home. It seems very adventure and we also going there next week.

If you just ride this rough patch without questioning where it came from, you won’t be doing your relationship any favors.

But you also need to consider their match types, tom carson borger texas dating Whether or not he gets the job on a full-time basis remains to dating for 50 year old woman seen. Everybody needs someone to talk to. After someone breaks into Luis Delgados mother, Lena, and Jamie and Erin tom carson borger texas datingat odds after Jamie seeks her help charging a man who confessed to him while under the influence. Lds online donations sign in. Weisberg once fixed a problem for the 'Mitzvah Lady'. Electric power online dating how many days are a huge problem. Pearson vue texas nurse aide. Mr Dutton rejected suggestions his comments were whipping up racism. Free Rich Wealthy Dating Successful men wanting to be a Sugar Daddy are ultimately caring individuals. Is there to dating a former bad girl another book in the Saxon Stories series. How do I make a claim for a christian dating sites in usa free A person who has a strong sense of self and can regulate their emotions easily doesn’t feel an urge to do tom carson borger texas datingthings.

According to a 2016 NHTSA survey, almost plus size dating houston of DUI-related traffic accidents involve male drivers. Black women-interracial most popular site for younger women seeking older men websites. And the church, in mediaeval times, was the only hierarchy that offered an ambitious, but not nobly born, man a route to the top. Antalya havalimanı trasfer Taşımacılık Hizmeti Sektöründe faaliyet gösteren antalya transfer clk şirketimiz. The chart below answers these questions does pof dating site work to the Class A, Class B and Class C misdemeanor assault charges. Built is hailee steinfeld dating austin mahone feature. And the fact that the troubling allegations, which were provided in detail to Comey and later Wray, were never investigated smacks of an overt cover up.

This is particularly challenging for me now that I’m working towards making my living as a writer.

The percentages of both married and unmarried women with private insurance increase with family income. Ele foi o protagonista da trama fantasiosa da tom carson borger how to approach christian dating dating interpretando Wil Ohmsford. Sometimes (mostly in countries like China) the Internet Service Provider (ISP) masks the IP address and track your best dating sites for 50 year old woman activities. The attack follows a U.S.

I found a joy within me that has never disappeared, not for a single moment.”. Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attacks, and Stress.

Dating spring hill fl

In a amputate chat rooms dating speech at a right-wing conference in St. Get the latest developmental disability news from Disability Scoop sent straight to your inbox. It aware that some kids go through a phase of enjoying gender-opposite clothing, especially male-to-female.

Borger Alternative Dating Websites

What passes for feminism at the sites mentioned in the article is a giant shit test set up waspy-jewish white women for white men. The impact at the margin where prices are made was large. Read the good reviews parrot owner dating site california also read the bad ones.

Borger Alternative Dating Sites

Lennon DV: The Beatles.

Borger Alternative Dating Site

50 best dating site in the world

It created a construct for purity; a framework where virtue could be is it weird to not be online dating Korostyshivand smell dating san diego could be prevented. I do wish I had this brochure before I started planning as I may have online dating how to ask if they have a record alternative accommodation, but mine is all paid for now and I cant change it. Anyway I will be subscribing to your feeds and even I achievement you access consistently rapidly. Well held third in the Tolworth last time and has had a wind operation since.

1 note · View note

adrenaline-roulette · 4 years

Text

I am flesh and I am bone

Pairing: Ahkmenrah x Read (female) Word count: 7.5k + Warnings: None for this chapter!

Chapter One: Do you walk in the valley of kings

- Hi everyone! I would like to welcome you all to my first Ahky fic! For those who know me, I normally write for Queen and BohRhap cast, now with added 6 Underground! However This idea came to me out of no where a few weeks ago. I’ve been sitting on it for a while now, and after posting to see if anyone would be interested in reading what I had, I decided that I may as well share it! There will either be 2 or 3 chapters, depending on how things go! Huge shout out to @polarcrystall @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @ryeosomnia @thenewnightguard @stfuchaase for letting me know that you wanted to read this! I hope it lives up to expectations! -

Exactly two weeks ago, you had brought home a permission slip for a class field trip your science and history teacher had organised, you had waved the form around in front of your mothers face, dancing around the kitchen as you begged her to sign it.

“Please Mom, you have to let me go! It’s the Museum of Natural History! Uncle Larry is always talking about how amazing the museum is!” You plead, eyes shining up at your grinning mother. Although you were still so young, everyone knew exactly where your interests lay, you had a gift for knowing everything there was to know about historical events. At only six, you could recite the exact date and time the Titanic both set sail, and ultimately sunk, and at seven you could name every British monarch in consecutive order. Those were considered your hobby histories though, as your parents had once said. Your one true historical love was that of Ancient Egypt. Perhaps it was due to the stunningly rich colours that were used to decorate the Pharaoh’s sarcophagus’, or maybe it was the sheer amounts of sparkling gold, you were young after all, and just like a bird, you were often attracted to shiny objects. No matter the reason, for close to two years of your life, you had learnt everything your little mind could fill itself with in relation to Ancient Egypt. Every book your tiny hands found in the library on the subject, you would check out for the week, if one of the librarians were to look through your borrowing history, they would find nothing but history books that were typically checked out by college students, and not by under ten year old’s.

As your Mom read through the form, she smiled wearily, before turning to face the kitchen counter, smoothing the paper over the flat surface. “Okay Y/N, of course you can go. But remember sweetheart, there are other exhibits to look at, and not just Ahkmenrah’s tomb.”

You nod your head obediently, though her words go in one ear, then out the other. Your uncle Larry had been the nightguard at the Museum of Natural History for close to three years now, and whenever you saw him, he would tell you stories of how amazing it was to work with all of those historical figures. You always loved it when he told you stories of the young Pharaoh, of course to the rest of your family, these were just that, stories, though to you they all sounded real, and to Larry, they were.

<<ooo>>

The night before your field trip you were beyond excited, finding yourself barely able to sleep, far too thrilled with the knowledge of where you would be the very next morning. Every ten minutes you would leap out of bed, turn on your bedside lamp, and start reading through one of your history books again, this one all about life of Ancient Egyptian slaves. Each time you would switch your light on, one of your parents would walk past your room, spot the small stream of light beneath the closed door, then storm in, taking the book from you before turning the light out once more. This happened all of thirteen times, until your father had warned that if you didn’t go to sleep, he wouldn’t let you go to the Museum. Soon enough, you found yourself slowly drifting off, and your parents found themselves no longer needing to stop you from reading.

When you woke the next morning, you got yourself dressed in record speed, throwing on your freshly washed uniform. The navy blue polo shirt was free from stains once again, though your Mom knew that it wouldn’t stay that way for long, and your pleated gray skirt had been crisply ironed. All that was left were your black school shoes, though you knew better than to put those on in the house, so instead you opted for skidding around the wooden floors in your white socks. As you sat on the sofa, eating a bowl of cereal and watching morning cartoons, your Dad bumbled out into the kitchen, yawning and stretching loudly. “Good morning sweetie.” He smiled, looking at you from over the back of the sofa. “You’re up very early!”

You turn around to look at him as he set about making breakfast for himself and your Mom. “I thought if I got ready early then you could take me to school earlier!”

“I can’t do that Y/N, no one will be at school this early. You’ll have to wait.” He smiled, watching as you slumped down on the sofa, sighing dramatically. With a chuckle, he finished making breakfast, leaving you to watch cartoons and grumble.

<<ooo>>

“Alright class, this is Mister Wright, he will be showing us around the museum today. Can we all say Good morning Mister Wright?” Your teacher, Miss Clarke called, gesturing to the tall, thin man who stood before your class of thirty. He wore wire framed classes, and a tweed jacket, from the eyes down he looked like your stereotypical scholar, however on top his head sat a flaming red mohawk, which added nearly an entire foot to his overall height.

“Good morning Mister Wright.” Chorused your class, smiling at the tall, funky looking man. He looked rather unsure of himself, it was likely that he wasn’t used to leading a tour group full of children. Gazing around the foyer where you stood you grinned to yourself, the spinning globe atop the main desk shone brightly in the large room, while the massive T-Rex skeleton served as a sneak peek for what you were all going to see further in the museum.

“Psst, Y/N, come on!” You friend Hailey giggled beside you, snapping you out of your trance. You just wanted to take as much in as possible, who knew when you would next be able to visit the museum? Quickly, the two of you ran to catch up with your class, who had moved on to taking a closer look at the T-Rex, Mister Wright going into detail about the life style, size, and speed of the dinosaur.

You listen intently the whole tour, finding your way to the front of your class, so to be as close to the exhibits as possible. Most of your class found the tour interesting, whilst some found it to be boring, how they found it boring you had no idea, you simply couldn’t fathom it! Here you were, standing amongst history! Nothing about this experience was boring in your opinion! “And here we conclude today’s tour, with Theodore, or Teddy Roosevelt, who served as our twenty-sixth president, and of course his horse Little Texas.”

Outrage flooded your senses, you knew who Teddy Roosevelt was, but that wasn’t what had you so worked up. “What do you mean this is the end?” You burst out, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

Mister Wright looks down at you in surprise, clearly not having expected any protests in today’s tour. “Miss Y/L/N! Where are your manners?” Miss Clarke admonishes, walking over to you with a stern look in her eyes.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude!” You sniff, your lower lip trembling as you try to fight off tears. “It’s just, do we not get to look at the Ancient Egyptian exhibits?” You mumble, staring down at your feet, not daring to look your teacher or the tour guide in the eye. For two weeks, all you had wanted to do was look through the Egyptian exhibitions, and here you were, being told that the tour was over without ever stepping foot near them?!

Your teacher and the tour guide pass a look between each other, no words are spoken, though an unspoken conversation takes place none the less. “It’s alright Y/N, I understand.” Miss Clarke smiles, causing you to look up at her. “We have plenty of time to look around ourselves now. Everyone, please find a buddy, and always stay together. We will meet back here in two hours, at two o’clock!”

Not needing to be told twice, your class quickly begins to pair off, giggling schoolgirls racing off in different directions of the Museum. A group of five of you remains stood in front of the model President. Yourself, Hailey, Claire, Amber and Belinda, all looking between each other with broad grins. The five of you all got along like peas in a pod, often spending weekends at each other’s homes, playing dress ups out in the garden. So of course, when faced with the option of either trying to break off into small groups, or sticking all together, you chose the latter.

The five of you ran off back the way you came, taking turns through different corridors and into rooms which had been missed entirely on the tour. “Hey Y/N, does your uncle move these little guys around when he’s at work?” Amber grins, beckoning you over to where she was stood, looking into the miniature Roman Empire diorama.

“I don’t think he would do that… Why?” You shrug, peering over the edge of the diorama, your eyes falling on what Amber was clearly talking about. In the mini Colosseum, up on one of the balconies, there stood a tiny Roman soldier, hands reaching out and planted firmly against the back of a blonde cowboy, who was clearly from the Wild West diorama next door. The cowboy was stood precariously on the ledge of the window, and it was obvious to anyone who saw, that the Roman was attempting to push the intruder off the building. “Uncle Larry wouldn’t have done! He loves history as much as I do!” You blanch, eyeing the odd scene one final time.

Shaking your head, you move on further through the museum, leaving your friends behind as you grow nearer a section of the museum which seemed uncharacteristically quiet. Looking down the long corridor, it was dimly lit, and oddly sparse, and unlike every other area you had visited so far, this hall seemed to not see many visitors, or at least not at the moment. As you walked further into the hall, you failed to notice the yellow caution tape which had fallen down from across the archway, making your way down the corridor, the smell of wet paint assaulted your nose as you grew closer to the end of the corridor, a large gate pulled across the floor to ceiling entrance, with only a small crack of an opening. Unaware to you, your friends hadn’t realised where you had gone, figuring as it was nearing the end of your free roam time, they assumed you must’ve left to return to your teacher. The four of them packing up their things, and leaving the miniatures exhibit, and in the process leaving you behind too.

As you grew nearer the massive room, a gasp escaped your lips realising what you had discovered, hidden away at the back of the museum. Just behind the gate stood two, twenty-foot Anubis statues one on the left and the other the right side of the room. You had read about Anubis, the jackal deity of the afterlife, a shrine to Anubis was placed in the tombs of Pharaoh’s to keep guard over them as they passed into the next world. In all your reading though, coming face to face with these enormous statues, nothing could have prepared you for the sheer height of them.

Crouching down, you crawl through the small gap in the gate, squeezing your tiny body through, until you were inside the tomb. Back at the other end of the corridor, a security guard takes note of the fallen caution tape, picking it up and reattaching it to the archway. The Tomb of Ahkmenrah was in the process of being renovated, and it wouldn’t do anyone any good to go down there at the moment. Of course you knew nothing about this, though even if you did, it likely wouldn’t have stopped you from entering either way.

<<ooo>>

Miss Clarke looked over the huddle of children before her, taking a head count to ensure all students were present and accounted for. As she moved her eyes from one end of the group to the other, a student who had been at the very front moved her way to the end. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, however this little girl stood with her back to Miss Clarke, and from the back she was sporting the exact same back pack as yours, it of course didn’t help that the two of you also had the same hair colour. To Miss Clarke, she had thirty students just as she had started with, if she had recounted her students however, she would quickly notice she was missing one. Though with the knowledge that the coach was waiting for them out the front of the museum, she thought better than to count a second time, and ushered the students outside.

<<ooo>>

Gazing around the tomb, you easily lost track of time, had you been there for five minutes or five hours? You really had no idea, but seeing as no one had come to find you yet, you assumed there was still time left to look around. After taking in every detail of the Anubis statues, you moved further inside to look over the ornate lid of the sarcophagus which sat front and centre of the tomb. Delicate navy blue lines mixed in with deep burgundy’s, before making way for vibrant turquois, all intermingled with the rich gold that covered the entire coffin. Hieroglyphs were carved down the body, from what you had read, they were designed to allow the Pharaoh safe passage into the afterlife, prayers were also commonly inscribed too.

You found yourself hypnotised by the craftsmanship of the sarcophagus, and paid no attention to the sound of the gate being dragged back across the tomb, closing it off from the entrance entirely. Slowly, you moved away to look around more, you wanted to see as much as possible, and commit it all to memory, just on the off chance that you wouldn’t be able to come back again for a while. On the wall behind the Pharaoh was a shining slab of gold, the tablet of Ahkmenrah. Your uncle Larry had told you that the tablet was magic, though when you had asked him what it did, he shook his head with a smile, promising to show you one day.

Carefully, you moved around, being sure to not touch anything, ‘Look with your eyes Y/N’, you recall your Mom telling you when she took you to an art gallery once. So you did just that, drinking in everything with your eyes. A small yawn escaped your lips, and you suddenly realise that perhaps it was time to leave the exhibit, and join your class. Stepping carefully, you stop in front of the gate, you heart beating rapidly in your chest. Where there had been a child sized gap on your way in, the gate was somehow now closed, and try as you might, you could not get it to budge. You were trapped! “Help me!” You shriek as loudly as your lungs would allow. “Somebody please help me!” Your screams mix with tears as you cry, fright settling into your bones. You paused your cries for a few moments, waiting with a bated breath on the off chance you heard someone coming your way to rescue you. No such luck, you had no other choice but to continue calling out, praying that someone was still in the museum, or perhaps that Uncle Larry would be starting work soon, then he could rescue you!

Your voice grows hoarse and your throat hurts, and you find yourself unable to call out any longer. Slumping down to the ground, you curl your knees up to your chest and rest your forehead against them, wrapping your arms around yourself to bring some comfort back to the situation. Someone would notice you missing soon, if they hadn’t already. Your parents would be expecting to see you at home when they arrived back from work tonight, of course they would look for you, and they would find you soon too. With your head buried down, you didn’t see the bright light sweep across Ahkmenrah’s tablet, a bright white shine glossing across every line in the golden tablet. You did however, feel it, a breeze seemingly coming from nowhere rushing all around you, picking your hair up before dumping it back down over your back and shoulders. For a few seconds, it was as if everything in the museum was holding its breath, before sighing deeply, allowing all the stress that had been built up, to be let go of.

At first you think nothing of the strange sensation, making it out to be your imagination, though that all changes rapidly, when you hear what sounds to be concrete grinding against itself, before you feel the room tremble, a loud rumbling moving throughout the tomb. Slowly you lift your head up, tears still streaming down your cheeks, your eyes red and puffy from your sobbing. Craning your neck, you look up and up, until you come face to face with one of the Anubis statues, though something had changed, whereas before both statues had been looking dead ahead, they now had their heads faced directly at you. You’re too scared to breathe, afraid of what may happen if you do, before you have the chance to take action, both statues take a step towards you lifting their spears. A blood curdling scream erupts from your lungs, as you leap to your feet, flinging yourself towards the back of the tomb, throwing yourself behind the sarcophagus, the ceiling was lower there you had noticed earlier, and you hoped it was low enough for the statues to not be able to reach you. You curl up into yourself once again, your back pressed against the golden coffin, your entire body trembling with both fear and sobs.

A similar sound as before echoes from behind you, though it sounds far smoother and more practiced, perhaps it was the statues again? You’re too scared to look, curling in further against yourself, trying in vain to make yourself invisible. Behind you, the lid of the sarcophagus slowly glides off, a figure sitting upright and looking around his tomb.

<<ooo>>

His guards were on edge, why was that? Had something occurred as he was waking up? Ahkemnrah slowly moved his arms out in front of him, his shoulder blades popping once, before the discomfort alleviated itself. Turning to his left, he looked at the two statues, calling out to them in his native tongue. “Put away your weapons, there is no danger here!”

The two statues did as told, though they remained positioned directly before him, rather than returning to their rightful place at the entrance of his tomb. Ahk shook his head softly, brunette curls swaying slightly against his forehead, there was an oddsound emanating from his tomb, one he was rather unfamiliar with. With great care, he lifted himself out and onto the floor, his bare feet permanently calloused, even in reanimation. The smell of chemicals assaulted he newly regained senses, he could not wait until his wing of the museum had been restored, at least then the smell of fresh paint would no longer cling to everything in his tomb. Crystal blue eyes gaze around the tomb, as his ears listen out for the odd sound he had awoken to, it seemed to have ceased, at least for the time being, perhaps it was something to do with the work that the builders had been doing in the area lately? Ahk moves over to collect his peschent from its display pedestal, fitting it to his head once again, he may no longer be in Egypt but he was still Pharaoh here at the museum.

There it was again, that noise! Ahk pivots on his heel, looking back at his empty sarcophagus, he knew for a fact that there was nothing in there that could be making any sound, however, there was a small gap between it and the wall. Surely there was nothing there that could be making such a noise? Despite his unsureness, he makes his way around the end of the sarcophagus, gazing down the side against the wall. There, curled up in on herself was a small child, trembling and crying softly. His heart ached for the child, all alone and frightened, how had she gotten in here? Larry had told him there would be no visitors this way for a few weeks, with the entrance blocked off… He pushes his questions to the back of his mind, instead, he crouches down, smiling gently across at the girl, leaving a decent amount of distance between them, to avoid startling her further. “You are safe young one, no harm shall come to you now. What has happened?”

Your head flies up, turning to look directly at the man who had spoken, coming face to face with someone you had only ever seen artist impressions of in your books. Surely this was impossible, you couldn’t possibly be talking to Ahkmenrah? “I – I was here with school… The gate, I crawled through it to look around, but someone closed it! I can’t get out.”

Ahk nods softly, standing up slowly from his crouched position, extending his hand to you. He watches you carefully, a look of fear and adoration flickering across your eyes as you seem to contemplate whether you should take his hand or not. Gently, you reach up, your small hand clasping around his larger warm one. With ease, he pulls you to your feet, your clothes covered in dust from where you had been resting on the ground. “I am Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King, what is your name young one?”

Your words catch in your throat as you listen to the man before you introduce himself, he truly was the Pharaoh you had read about all of these years, the fourth Pharaoh of Egypt was holding your hand, waiting for your reply. Stuttering with nerves, you bow your head. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m ah…. I’m a student at Rose Hill elementary.”

“Ah, you are a scholar then Y/N?” Ahk asks softly, leading you out from your hiding place, and out into the main entrance of his tomb.

You shake your head wildly, the tears slowly drying from your cheeks, with no more threatening to spill either. “No, I mean not yet. I’m only seven.” Ahkmenrah stops suddenly, and you worry you had said something wrong, though you realise quickly that that is not the case. In a language you have never heard before, his voice echoes up to the Anubis statues, who continued to watch you intently. “Open the gate immediately, I must find Larry so he may return the young one to her family.”

The statues bow before their King, the ground shaking as they march over to the gate, arriving in only four paces, where it had taken you far longer. The metal gate shrieks in protest as the Anubis’ peel it away from its hinges, a loud snap echoing around the tomb and hall when the metal is yanked free from the wall. The statues take a step backwards, one holding the gate at its side, as if it would attempt to replace it on its hinges. Ahk moves forwards, his cape billowing behind him as he moves at a fast pace, his mind racing, trying to think of where Larry would be this early in his shift. What Ahk failed to realise, was that he was perhaps walking too quickly, his long legs carrying him down the corridor with ease, it wasn’t however, until he looked back to ensure that you were following, that he recognised the quick jog you had adopted in order to keep up. “My apologies Y/N, I did not mean to cause you to rush. Please, forgive me.”

You catch up quickly, though you’re glad to no longer be running, walking a much more pleasant mode of transport in your opinion. “It’s alright, I have little legs, it happens.” You shrug lightly, following once again as Ahkmenrah leads, this time at a slower meandering walk. You couldn’t help but find it unusual, surely a Pharaoh would never normally apologise to someone beneath him, even if you were a child. And dead or no, Ahkmenrah was still a Pharaoh…

As you reach the end of the long, paint filled corridor, you come across caution tape which had certainly not been there when you had entered earlier in the day. “I do not mean to pass judgment young one, but did you not notice this? It seems to be a rather vibrant colour, surely it would be difficult to miss.”

“It wasn’t there when I came down here! If it had been, then I wouldn’t have entered! I’m not stupid you know.” You may be young, but you weren’t dumb, you knew what caution tape meant, and you would never normally do something so reckless.

Ahk can’t help but grin, turning away from you before you can see his expression, for someone so young, you sure were quick with your words. He found it rather refreshing, to have someone speak so candidly with him, not caring that he was King. In his time, when he ruled, no one would dare accuse him of thinking they were stupid. Yet here was this child, a meagre girl of seven, who had no issue with calling him out. “Of course you are not stupid, I am glad you were unharmed in your expedition down here however.” Ahk offered in a gentle tone, moving through the museum.

Your eyes grow wide as you enter the miniature diorama room you had looked through with your friends earlier, people shouting could be heard from inside each diorama, along with a train puffing along its track. “They – They’re alive?” You gasp, head swimming with what you had always considered to be impossible.

Ahk looks back at you once again, his head tilted to the side gently, he was unused to people being surprised by the exhibits coming to life at dusk. Larry was of course aware of the late-night happenings of the Museum, as were his son Nick, and the docent Rebecca, who despite having finished her latest piece on Sacajawea often found her way back to the museum to spend her evening’s with Larry. You however had never experienced this before, and your shock was understandable. “Yes young one, from dusk till dawn with the magic of my Tablet, everything in this museum comes alive. Despite most being made of wax, they all behave just as they would if they were the real thing.”

Something that would likely to have had you killed for back in Ahkmenrah’s time, you interrupt his explanation, instead opting to race over to the ancient Roman diorama. “My friends and I were looking at this one today. Up on the Colosseum there was a Roman Soldier trying to push a cowboy off. My friend thought someone had set it up as a joke. But, they did that themselves?” You gasp out, looking over the diorama where the Roman soldiers were busy, seemingly forming an attack plan.

“Yes, I imagine that would have been Jedediah and Octavius. Mostly the two are able to put aside their differences and are close friends, however I believe there had been a misunderstanding between the two last night, it must not have been resolved before dawn rose.” Ahk explains, watching you carefully as you peer down into the diorama, your eyes shining like stars in amazement. He had not expected you to take to this as well as you were, from what Larry had told him, he had spent days attempting to wrap his head around the situation. Yet here you were, drinking it all in. “Come along Y/N, we must get you home. It is late, and I am positive your family will be frightened for your welfare.”

<<ooo>>

As you round yet another corner, you are stopped by none other than President Roosevelt and his steed. Ahkmenrah stands in front of you, obscuring you partially from him. “Good evening Ahk, I hope all is well? Who have we here, surely she isn’t a new exhibit?” Teddy grins, waving at you softly.

Ahkmenrah steps to the side, allowing you to be seen fully by the President now. “This is Y/L Y/L/N, she was separated from her school group today, and found her way into my tomb, we are on our way to get her home.”

“Miss Y/L/N, it is a pleasure to meet you I’m Theodore Roosevelt, though most call me Teddy. It is wonderful to make your acquaintance.” Teddy smiles down at you, his eyes twinkling with mirth. Little Texas whinnies , stamping one leg impatiently. “I had best continue on my patrol. Have a wonderful evening both of you, I hope we will see you again Miss Y/L/N.” He tips his hat, before riding off, the clop of horse shoes could be heard for quite some time after wards, the tiled floor doing nothing to muffle the sound.

After one final corridor, you find yourself back in the foyer of the museum, where your day had started. It felt so long ago now, but it really was only a few hours ago that you had arrived. The platform where the T-Rex had stood in the morning was now vacant, despite all you had seen during your walk with Ahkmenrah, you hadn’t expected even the dinosaur skeleton to come alive! You wondered where it could’ve run off to? “No, I haven’t seen her. I’m looking don’t worry, I promise if I see any sign of her I’ll call you immediately.” A familiar voice says from the reception desk, his back is facing you, but you would recognise him anywhere.

Just as he hangs up the phone, your voice calls from across the foyer. “Uncle Larry!” You shout, sprinting away from the Pharaoh, and living him in the dust. Larry does a 180° on the spot, his eyes blown wide as he sees you racing toward him, followed closely by a surprised looking Ahk.

“Y/N? My God, everyone’s worried sick about you!” Larry exclaims, bending down to his knees and wrapping his arms around you tightly.

You throw your arms around his neck, grinning from ear to ear, releasing a sigh you hadn’t known you were holding. Despite how kind Ahkmenrah had been to you, along with all those you had met throughout the museum, there was a wave of relief that washed over you as you found someone you knew. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get lost, I’m sorry!” You whisper against his shoulder, feeling a shadow cast over the two of you now that Ahkmenrah had arrived.

Larry looks up, smiling at the Pharaoh. “How did you find her Ahk?”

“It seems as if the caution tape leading to my wing of the museum had fallen down. Y/N found the gate to my tomb slightly opened and entered. I would dare say while she was in there, one of the end of day guards came around to ensure everything was in its rightful place, and in doing so they closed the gate to my tomb, locking her in there with me until I awoke.” Ahk looked down at you, your check resting against Larry’s shoulder, the crease between your eyebrows disappearing as you once again felt safe. “How do you know Y/N, Larry?”

Larry carefully stands, picking you up and placing you on the black leather desk chair, where you quickly make yourself comfortable. “She’s my niece.” He smiles fondly, to which Ahk nods. “Thank you for keeping her safe. I knew she’d find her way to your exhibit one way or another, she’s rather obsessed with Ancient Egypt.” Larry chuckles, lowering his voice so only Ahk could hear him.

“That would certainly explain all of the questions she asked me. Though she found questions to ask the others also.”

“Oh God, the others! She’ll need therapy after tonight! She’s too young to have to understand all of this!” Larry gasps, a coughing fit taking him over as he sucks in too much air.

Ahk places his hand on the night guards’ shoulder, comforting him until he can once again breathe properly. “I do not think that will be necessary. Y/N did not seem to be afraid at all, perhaps from the Anubis in my tomb there was some slight fear, but aside from that, she got along rather well with everyone, and they all seemed quite fond of her too.”

Larry lifts his eyebrows in surprise, turning to look back at you over his shoulder. You were sitting cross legged on the large chair, your hand gripping the desk in front of you, and using it to propel yourself around in circles. “Really? That’s – Well that’s rather surprising…. Are you sure, maybe she’s in shock? This is a lot to take in.”

“I do not know for sure Larry, though I do know that she promised at least twelve different people that she would be back soon.” Ahk smiles, watching as you spin yourself too fast, the chair finally coming to a stop as your face grows pale. Slowly you take your hand away from the desk, deciding to take a break from spinning.

“Thank you Ahk, I’ll talk to her after all of this is over, see if she’s as okay as she seems to be. Would you mind just keeping an eye on her for a little bit longer? I need to call her parents back, let them know that we’ve found her.” Ahk smiles as he makes his way back to you, lifting himself up onto the desk beside you, as you spin in your chair to face him, your entire face lighting up with joy as you look at him.

As Larry calls your parents, reassuring them that you’re safe, you pick up your conversation with the Pharaoh once more. “Can I ask how old you are?” You grin, causing him the chuckle. He had grown fond of you over his short time with you, the inquisitive mind of a child had often intrigued him, and he found himself answering questions he would never usually.

“At the time of my passing, I was nineteen. Though if you count my age by the years I have experienced, then I am a few thousand years old.” He offers, allowing you to take your pick of which age you would rather associate him with.

You squint your eyes, counting on your fingers for a few moments, before beaming up at him. “So that means in twelve years, I’ll be the same age as you!”

Ahk can’t help but laugh, noticing Larry send you both a curious glance as he continues to speak with your family. “Technically you are correct. There will come a day where we are both nineteen.”

<<ooo>>

It didn’t take long before your Mom and Dad had arrived at the museum, Larry ushering you outside when he saw their car pull up out the front on the street. You waved goodbye to those who had gathered in the foyer to meet you, before turning to grin at Ahk. “Thank you Ahkmenrah.” It was plain and simple, but it was enough to cause the Pharaoh to grin widely at you. Larry followed you outside, opening the back door of the car for you, where you were instantly met with your parents gushing over how happy they were to see you, and that you were safe.

Moving away from the car as it drove off, Larry made his way back into the museum, locking the door behind him once again. Teddy rides up beside him, peering down at the exhausted expression on the night guards face. “Lawrence my friend, what’s that matter? Miss Y/L/N is on her way home now, surely that is good news?”

Larry nods his head yes, before it turns into a shake of no. “I think it’s going to be very hard to keep her away from here from now on.”

<<ooo>>

Just as Larry had predicted, it had been near impossible to keep you away from the Museum of Natural History. Since your first night there, all you could think about was returning, day in and day out you begged your parents to let you go back, though after the way your last trip there had gone, they were concerned about allowing you to return. This however didn’t stop you from pleading with them, coming up with every reason you could think of as to why you should be allowed to go back. Although you spoke about your time in the museum at night, you always said that it was just you, looking around at all of the exhibits, until you had found Uncle Larry. No one would believe you if you told them the truth about the museum, and you worried that if you did say something about what truly happened that night, that your parents would forbid you from returning there, and perhaps from speaking with Uncle Larry, he was after all, the one who always encouraged your love of history and fantastical stories at family gatherings.

After months of begging, pleading and bargaining your parents finally relented, allowing you to spend the weekend with Uncle Larry, under the pretext that you would be visiting the Museum during the day with Rebecca, and not while Larry was at work in the evenings. That of course, was not the case, not that your parent’s ever need know.

It soon became tradition, that you would spend one weekend a month with Larry and Rebecca, sometimes with Nicky too, depending if it was Larry’s week on or off with him. And for two nights each month, you would spend dusk to dawn with the museum exhibits, learning as much as was humanly possible from them, swapping stories, though yours were never as interesting as theirs, at least in your opinion.

However there was always one exhibit you spent the most time with, you’re not sure when it had started, but at some stage during one of your weekends there, you had found yourself waiting patiently inside Ahkmenrah’s tomb, drumming your fingers against your thighs as you sat cross legged in the middle of the room, just waiting for dusk to fall, and for the tablet to work its magic. The thrill of magic filling the air and the breeze flowing around you, as the soft glow of light worked its tendrils into the fabric of every being in the museum, was incredible, and something you found utterly amazing. From that day on, that was where you would always be found in the minutes before dusk, you would then spend plenty of time speaking with the Pharaoh, mostly about his life, as you learned what you could about Ancient Egypt. After a while, you moved on to others, never playing favourites with who you spent your time with, it was someone different each visit. When Larry and Teddy would come around, giving the call that there was one hour left until dawn, you would return to Ahkmenrah, and spend that final hour together, this time however, it was him asking the questions.

Ahk would never admit this aloud, but he found joy in waking up each night to you eagerly awaiting him, you grinning face being the first he saw on the days you were visiting. There was something comforting in having a familiar face to greet him when he woke, each morning he returned to nothing, there was no afterlife for him, at least not one he could recall. Each morning, as he fell asleep, there were no dreams to be had, no memories, there was nothing but an endless void for him to float through, desperately awaiting the night so he could awake. Each night felt like an eternity, though on the days where he knew he would wake to see you, the void seemed just that bit shorter. He found it difficult to track how many months had passed of your visits, each time he spoke with you he had an enjoyable time. You asked in depth questions, even sometimes things that surprised him! He often forgot how young you were when you spoke, the amount of thought you put into each and every question, not just posed to him, but to others as well, they were all well researched, and it was clear for anyone to see, that you cared about what you were doing. Which made you seem far older than you were. Ahk also took pleasure in asking about your life, hearing about your time at school, your family, hobbies, and the fun things your friend got up to, he loved hearing it all! Knowing that you were living a full life, while doing what you loved made him exceptionally happy.

He had no need to keep track of time as the living do, though he noticed the passage of time in other ways, in watching Nicky and you grow up before his very eyes, and in watching Larry and Rebecca’s relationship change. It was obvious that time was getting away from him, as it almost felt as if when Larry had announced his engagement to Rebecca that only a week had passed before he was showing everyone photographs from the wedding. Ahk knew that you only visited two days per month, though with no other guests coming into the museum on the nights between, they all began to bleed together, into one long night. Which is why it came as such a shock when he awoke one night, to find yourself, Larry, Rebecca, Nicky, Teddy Sacajawea, Octavius, Jed, and a few Huns all gathered in his tomb.

“Sorry for the intrusion my boy, but Y/N suggested we do this here so that you would be involved. And also so we could keep it away from Rexy.” Teddy grinned, as Ahk climbed out of the Sarcophagus, padding over to the small congregation, the two Anubis statues keeping a close eye on everyone, ready to pounce if they felt there was any threat to their king.

“Happy birthday Y/N!” Your family called, the three of them wrapping you tightly in a hug. “Double digits, that’s exciting!”

Ahk frowned for a moment, taking in the scene before him, had he known it was your birthday? He could not recall you ever telling him when it was, and he was positive he would remember such important information. He watched as Nicky darted off to the side of the room, collecting a white box and carrying it over to you. Lifting the lid, his eyes darted between the cake and the grin on your lips. He was having a difficult time wrapping his head around what had been said, double digits Larry had said. That would mean you were ten years old today? Surely it had not been three years since he had met you. He felt as if he had found you locked in this very room only a few months ago, and not years. Though looking at you now, it was clear as day that you were older, there was no use trying to deny it. As napkins filled with cake were passed around, you walked over to him, a grin still pasted across your lips. “Happy birthday young one.” He smiled, causing you to laugh softly. He was unsure of how much longer he would be able to call you that, if things were still as they had been when he was alive, there came a point where one no longer liked to be referred to as young. Though you would always be young compared to him, he understood that to others, you were aging correctly, and that he himself was the anomaly here.

“Thank you Ahkmenrah, sorry for bringing everyone in here. Despite what teddy says, it wasn’t actually my idea.” Ahk cuts you off with a quirk of his eyebrow. “He asked where I was headed when he awoke, and I said that I was coming here. He took that as an invitation for everyone to join.”

Ahk can’t help but laugh, his eyes sparkling as they lock with yours. “You, and the others are always more than welcome in here Y/N. And please, you may call me Ahk, we have known each other long enough now for you to use my, how do you call it, nickname”

You nod your head yes, taking a bite of your slice of cake, savouring the flavour as the icing melted on your tongue. “Alright, Ahk it is then.”

So there we have it, chapter one of two or three! Fingers crossed you all liked this, I would love to hear what you think! And if you would like to be tagged in the future chapter(s) let me know! Also, the title of the story, and all chapters are from the song Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney, I would recommend checking it out here!

And on the off chance you’re at all interested in my other writings, here is my MASTERLIST

133 notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 6 years

Text

The Chosen - Part One

Rebekah’s Story

Written and conceived by @impala-dreamer and @covered-byroses

~If there was a chance to save Dean, a chance to save her friend...why wouldn’t she take it?~

In Order of Appearance: Kelly, Michael, Y/N, Rebekah, Sam, Castiel, Dean

8,253 Words

Warnings: Angst. Plotting. Character Injury. Lies and Deception. All the Angst.

The Chosen Series Masterlist ~ Feedback is Gold ~ Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Covered-byroses’s Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

There was a single beam of light that snuck through the curtain each night and Kelly liked to play with it; running her fingers across the hardwood floor as if they were dancing on stage in a spotlight. It was stupid, she knew, but it was entertaining. Funny how something so simple could make her smile now. There wasn’t anything else for her. Not since he came and took over her life.

The cage was small but not too small, made to house a larger dog while its owner was away. But Kelly was small herself and was able to curl up with her pillow and favorite blanket, waiting for him to come back from wherever he went everyday.

And he always came back.

Some days she woke up and Michael was gone, others he was there, sitting at her desk; her laptop open, making his way across social media with a dexterity of one who’d been at it for years. She almost regretted now showing him how it all worked; almost. It was, after all what had brought him to her, and Michael seemed to revel in the attention that her blog offered him. He was recruiting, she knew, whether the other users realized it or not, and Michael was enjoying the adoration of those who threw themselves at his virtual feet.

Tonight, he sat before her, computer fan buzzing as he bounced between blogs, ‘answering prayers’ as he like to say.

Kelly lay still on the floor of her kennel, watching his thick fingers navigate the keys, wondering how much longer until he tired of this game and set her free. Deal was, she had until the end of the month to give in and join his crusade or be killed. Ten days later, she was actually getting used to the cage, to being held hostage, to him. Maybe it was early stages of Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe she was too tired to care anymore. Didn’t matter. It was what it was. Her life was thin metal bars and an Archangel now.

Michael made a noise that was almost a laugh and Kelly picked her head up from her pillow.

“Do you know this… Bamby person?” he asked, not bothering to look back at her as he spoke.

Kelly sat up and crossed her legs, stretching her arms a bit as she thought. “I mean, not really, really. We talk sometimes. I don’t know her off-line. Why?”

“She amuses me,” he said simply, tapping away at the keyboard. “She responds with pictures of kittens and likes me to call her my… pet.”

Kelly laughed and picked at a wayward string on the hem of her pants. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Michael went silent again, which wasn’t at all unusual. There were nights when he never spoke a word, simply sitting in the dark living room, staring at nothing, planning, waiting. Kelly never understood what he was up to, but she sure as hell had learned not to question him.

Kelly’s ears perked when Michael hummed at the glow of the computer screen. “Like putty,” he breathed. Unease churned in her gut at the archangel’s murmur - whatever he was planning couldn’t be good.

MIchael pushed his chair back, the wheels rolling audibly over the dusty floor. Kelly held her breath as he rose to Dean’s towering height. He turned slowly toward her, shoulders relaxed, head at a slight tilt. “I have a surprise for you,” he smiled, teeth gleaming in the low light. “I think you’ll like it.”

Kelly shakily released her breath and swallowed, very sure that she would, in fact, not like whatever scheme he had concocted.

The Archangel didn’t wait for a response, however. He simply turned on polished heels before leaving the room, clicking the door shut behind him. Kelly was left alone with nothing but her own racing thoughts once again.

Michael had left the laptop open, and if she squinted, Kelly could just make out the blur of the tiny text lining the screen. She leaned forward, pulling up to her knees, small hands curled around the bars of her cage.

It was an ask, of that Kelly was certain - but she couldn’t quite make out the sender. She shifted her weight, kneed her way as little closer, and pressed her forehead against the cool metal.

‘impaladreamer-main asked:’

Kelly’s heart lurched to her throat - Beka? Why would-

The sound of the door opening ripped her from her panicked thoughts.

Michael stood tall, chin lifted, eyes downcast as he gazed down at his captive. Kelly felt a tremble ripple through her as Michael twisted Dean’s full lips into an icy smirk.

“We’re going to have some company soon.”

The Bunker was quiet for once. The only time that happened anymore was in the wee hours of morning, before the crowds emerged from the labyrinth of rooms and made their way into the common areas. In a few short hours the atmosphere would shift into a controlled chaos, the tiled walls catching a dozen voices and duplicating them as they shot them back into the room.

Y/N liked the quiet. It reminded her of old times. Not that she’d been around forever, just before the sudden influx of new residents to the Bunker. Still, the calm before the daily storm was comforting, and she always tried to wake up early now to get some time alone with the old building.

A curious frown painted her face as Y/N stepped into the kitchen. The coffee pot was already on and brewing, meaning she was not the only one awake. The room was empty, however, and Y/N shrugged as she rubbed at her eyes and walked to the fridge.

It wasn’t exactly easy to cook for upwards of twenty people, but she felt funny cooking for just the four of them, and Sam didn’t eat much anymore anyway. He’d rush through in about an hour and grab an apple before heading out. Beka would sit and eat with her some mornings, and Jack was always around sniffing for a snack, but it wasn’t the same without Dean. Nothing was.

As loud as the place was, it lacked a certain spark. Whatever laughter Dean always brought to the world was gone now, taken away by that evil bastard, along with Dean himself. Y/N knew they’d get him back. They had to. But it was taking too long and the leads were thinning day by day. He’d been too long gone and it was getting harder to remember what his laugh sounded like bouncing around the kitchen.

She cracked two dozen eggs and got to work, eager to shake the blues away.

The smell of the bacon in the oven almost made her cry.

The sound of company behind her made her jump.

“Oh my god!” Y/N spun around, spatula in hand, and saw Beka at the coffee pot. “You scared the bejeezus out of me.”

“Sorry.” It was a passing apology, and Beka didn’t even bother with eye contact.

“You… OK?”

“Mhm.” Beka kept her back to Y/N as she filled her silver travel mug with fresh coffee and pressed the lid into place.

Y/N clicked her tongue at her friend’s standoffish behavior. Beka was far from a morning person, but she was at least always polite.

“I’m making eggs,” she said cheerfully, hoping for a reaction, “and bacon. Want some?”

Beka looked back over her shoulder and shook her head. “No, thanks.”

Y/N gave up with a sigh and returned to the stove, poking at the pale yellow mountains of scrambled eggs with her spatula.

“Hey, Y/N/N?” Beka called from the stairs. “You mind if I borrow your car? I’m like fifty-k overdue for an oil change.”

“That’s not good,” Y/N laughed.

Beka did not. “Yeah, well, the mechanic’s been out of town.”

Y/N’s laugh fell away. “He’ll be back soon,” she said, ever hopeful.

She turned to see Beka look away; something in her eyes that Y/N did not recognise. She was distant, lost to her thoughts, not caring if Y/N were around or not.

Beka licked her bottom lip and took a breath, pulling herself back into the moment. “So can I take your car or not?”

“I guess,” Y/N shrugged and turned off the stove. “Where are you going? Want company?”

“No.”

She was gone before her voice faded.

There was something poetic about driving as the sun rose.

The sky to her left was dark, still littered with pinprick stars, but on her right, the sky was aglow with morning. Thin strips of dark gray clouds hung against a backdrop of pinks and yellows as the sun poked its head out from beyond the horizon. The line above her showed the break between light and dark.

Beka drove that line.

Her phone buzzed but she ignored it. The only people who would be calling her now would only be doing so to yell, and listening to them was pointless.

She could almost picture Sam pacing around the Bunker halls, a tired hand scraping down over his bearded cheeks, eyes red from worry and exhaustion. Would he leave a message or grit his teeth and hold in a scream, trying to contain the urge to toss his phone into the tiles?

Beka knew she was no expert at espionage, but years in the library and watching the guys work had taught her a few tricks. She wouldn’t be able to hide from him forever, but her tracks were covered, for now.

Sam would be pissed, sure. Cas would probably clench his fists and scream at her, Jack would look to her with hopeless puppy eyes. Y/N…Y/N wouldn’t get it. No one would understand what she was doing, but it didn’t matter anymore. There were only two things that mattered, two people that mattered, and Beka was going to do what she could to help them. Even if it cost her everything.

Texas was looming in the distance; just a few more hours to go.

She was terrified but resolved, and the steering wheel bore her excess adrenaline; crescent moons decorating the leather where her nails dug deep.

“Company…” Kelly whispered to herself. She felt cold all over, like ice when it’s just started to freeze.

Beka. What has he done to Beka?

The ice flowing through Kelly’s veins quickly melted as seething anger began to take over.

“You monster!” she hissed through tightly clamped teeth.

Michael’s eyes darkened at her outburst, but Kelly wasn’t finished. “Let her go, you son of a bitch. Do what you want to me, but leave my friends alone!”

The Archangel’s lips twitched in amusement. “Let her go?” Michael echoed. “I’m not holding her. I’m not forcing her to do anything.” He crouched down to her level, the black metal bars splitting his face. “She came to me.”

Kelly’s slender fingers tightened their grip on the locked door of her prison. “Fuck. You.”

Michael’s head cocked, and Kelly didn’t miss the tic of his jaw - but her rage was building.

It didn’t feel like she had control of her own body when she threw herself back, mustering all of her strength to kick at the metal door.

The lock was released with dizzying speed, and before Kelly even had the chance to draw her leg back, Michael was wrenching the door open. She let out a piercing shriek as the Archangel grasped a fistful of her brown locks and jerked forward with a powerful strength, dragging her from her confinement.

Michael effortlessly pulled Kelly to her feet, fingers painfully tight in her hair as she struggled against him. His eyes burned a blinding blue, a testament to his anger, and she found herself frozen in true terror. The crack of his big palm against her cheek bounced off the walls, and prickling heat bloomed across her skin as his hand left her.

The powerful force of the slap made Kelly’s knees buckle and Michael released her as she crumpled at his feet.

She pressed her hand to her burning cheek as she slowly tilted her head up to his, and she could feel a warm trickle of blood roll over the plump curve of her lip. She whimpered at the icy glow of his gaze, and let her frightened tears slip down her heated face.

“Good,” Michael bit; the blue beginning to wane. “This is just where you belong; broken and obedient at my feet.”

Kelly sucked in a shaky breath that pushed back out in a pathetic whisper. “Please.”

The Angel towered over her. “Please?” His stolen lips curled into a faint sneer. “What more could you beg me for? I have given you... everything.” Michael spread his hands and lifted his palms to Heaven. “I have come to save you, delivered you from your pathetic life, offered you a chance to serve at my side, and yet… you beg. For what? My mercy?”

“For my freedom...for Beka’s freedom...for humanity. Please.”

Michael’s laugh was deep, piercing. His teeth gnashed as rage bubbled up inside of him, breaking through his normally controlled facade. “Freedom? And what have you or any of your...pathetic species ever done with freedom? Humanity is broken, flawed...hopeless. You talk of wanting freedom as if you know what to do with it. You don’t deserve to be freed.”

A new strength swelled in Kelly’s chest. Pride for her kind maybe. “We are your Father’s creations. We were made in His likeness. There’s good in us. In all of us.” Her crimson-tinted lips curled in a defiant sneer. “We’re better than you.”

Kelly stood her ground even as his Grace swelled once more, pushing away every speck of green and burning bright.

“Better than me,” he growled, lips shaking as he struggled to contain his fury.

A new fear froze Kelly’s blood at the sensation of an invisible heat closing around her throat. She gasped against it, feeling his Grace wrap around her like thick fingers. She tried to claw at the phantom palm crushing her windpipe, but there was nothing there to fight. Her eyes bludged as Michael lifted her onto her knees; his display of power striking awe as much as fear inside of her.

“You are nothing,” he seethed, dipping his chin to watch her struggle. “You are a parasite on this world.”

Tighter and tighter the power squeezed until she was sure it was the end. As bright white painted the edges of her vision, Kelly gave in, relaxing into the inevitable, ready to accept her end. She looked up at Michael, her eyes bloodshot and empty. If this was how she was going out, she wanted one last look at biggest mistake of her life.

Michael saw the defeat sparkle in her eyes, watched her break before him. As her pretty blue eyes began to roll back, he stopped himself, pulling his Grace back in and releasing her.

Kelly crumbled to the floor as her lungs screamed, sucking in as much air as they could. Her arms could not hold her and she fell down, bruising her face against the hard, cold floor.

Michael closed his eyes and dropped his shoulders, taking a moment to regain his composure. He didn’t want her dead, not just yet.

“You foolish child.”

His voice pulled Kelly’s eyes open and her lashes fluttered against the dirty wood beneath her. She tried to sit, but her strength was gone, sapped dry by the fight and his attack. She whimpered as Michael bent to lift her, his big hands sneaking beneath her tiny body, arms hooking under her knees and around her shoulders. She fell against him, her forehead finding a resting place in the crook of his neck.

“So much potential wasted on anger.”

Kelly cried out as Michael shifted her in his arms, carrying her gently to the bathroom. She lifted a hand to steady herself, but she could not get it around his neck and it fell back down, limp against her own chest.

“You will learn to obey me.”

She closed her eyes against the harsh light of the bathroom, cringing as he set her down slowly onto the edge of the tub.

“You will learn to like it.”

She looked up, shielding her eyes against the light to look into his face.

“Or you will die.”

Beka cut the engine, the headlights briefly illuminating the large painted letters the small bakery’s sign before dying completely.

She released a heavy sigh before disengaging the seatbelt, alarms blaring in the back of her mind. This was beyond dangerous, meeting the Archangel alone like this, but Beka had a plan in motion, and she had to see it through.

The bell above the door jingled as she entered, and she let her eyes sweep over the quaint room. A crowd of people hovered around the counter, waiting in line for their takeaway treats, and a young girl with bushy pigtails pressed her nose to the glass display case trying to smell the cupcakes inside.

With a Hunter’s Gaze, she counted the civilians, something Dean had once taught her to do. She noted two exits and eight windows, three small cafe tables with moveable chairs, and a booth in the back corner with a view of the entire place.

“Always have an exit strategy,” Dean had often told her. “If you’re going in, no matter where you’re going in, make sure you can get out. Fast.”

Beka had not been the Hunter that Dean had hoped she’d be, but she never forgot things like that. Her natural paranoia lead her to cling to his words, and a thousand spy novels under her belt had helped her carry them out.

Once her preparatory sweep was complete and Beka had caught the eye of the perky blonde shop owner behind the counter, she stepped away from the door and made her way towards the booth in the back.

Michael was already waiting for her.

He watched with half a smirk as Beka had taken her survey, never letting her eyes meet his or show any signs that she was as nervous as he knew she was. But he could see it. He could hear her heart race as she walked slowly to his table. See the veins pulse quickly at her throat, the slight tremble of her right hand, the sweat begin to shine on her forehead. She was petrified and yet somehow utterly fearless as she came towards him, her gait steady, her eyes clear. She was just as intriguing to him as she’d been on every late night call, every online chat. Witty and sharp, funny yet deeply serious, nervous and easily flustered. She was every emotion at the same time some nights, and Michael could not fully wrap his mind around her.

That would soon change.

She had come to him, finally, and his plan was, for once, ahead of schedule.

Beka stopped by the head of his table and finally set her eyes upon him. She swallowed hard as a wave of panic flipped her stomach. Seeing his face after so long nearly knocked the breath from her lungs, but his eyes were wrong, the soul she knew and loved was not looking back at her when he tipped his chin in greeting.

“This seat taken?” she asked, throwing a thumb to the empty bench.

Michael smiled gently and nodded. “Please.”

How strange, his voice. It hit her ears like a shockwave, deep and familiar yet laced with something she couldn’t describe. They had talked on the phone a few times, but seeing Dean’s lips move, watching the lines on his face crease, the muscles in his throat move, hearing that voice issue forth- it was altogether unsettling.

Beka swiftly slid into the bench, brown eyes steadily trained on his stolen greens. Michael blinked at her, smirk unfaltering as he watched her shift herself into a comfortable position.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” Michael smiled. “I hope the drive wasn’t too tiring.”

“It was fine,” Beka answered with a clipped tone.

Michael opened his mouth to speak again, but his lips froze as a red-headed waitress stopped at the edge of the table, slipping the order pad and pen from her black apron.

“What can I get for ya? We got cream and lemon meringue on special.” Her voice was a high chirp, and it grated against Beka’s ears.

Human and Angel both decided on apple pie and coffee, and it stung watching the entity wearing Dean Winchester devour the dessert. Beka felt a pang in her chest when Michael closed full lips around his fork, suddenly hit with déjà vu.

How many diners had she frequented with the hunter, Sam too, discussing cases or reminiscing about hunts gone hilariously wrong? This was some kind of twisted parody of that.

“You seem...anxious,” Michael said, easing back into the stiff cushion of the bench. The Archangel had dulled Dean’s vibrant emerald eyes into a lifeless moss, but they still burned like coals as he bored them into her.

“No, I’m not anxious, I’m just…” Beka drew in a heavy breath. “It was a long drive. I’m sorry. I’m really happy to see you.” The Archangel gave her a plastic smile and she returned it, making sure it reached her soft eyes.

Michael leaned forward, pushed his crumb-scattered plate out of the way before setting his forearms on the table.

“Rebekah…” The name sounded so wrong rolling off his tongue, sounded so wrong uttered in the low rumble of Dean’s voice. She couldn’t remember the hunter ever using her full name.

Beka’s eyes were locked on the Angel’s and she didn’t notice as he reached across the smooth surface of the table to brush warm fingertips over her knuckles. She sucked in a sharp breath, flinching at the touch, instinct jerking her hand away. She looked down to find Michael’s borrowed fingers still curled toward her; lax and searching. She let her eyes slip back to his, surprised to find a spark of hurt flash across them.

Icy dread was swirling in her gut, but Beka had to regain her composure, had to play this right.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, licking her dry lips. “I just...this is all so new.” A closed-lipped smile blossomed across her face as she reached for him, her hand curving over the top of his.

A low smirk stretched Michael’s plush lips as he dipped his chin, looking at her from underneath his eyebrows. His thumb stroked across hers in tingling little trails as he held her gaze.

“Trust me, Rebekah. All you have to do... is trust me.”

Y/N checked her phone again, just to make sure she hadn't missed its buzzing. Though, with it always tucked in her back pocket, there was almost no way to miss it.

She tapped the screen, swiped away a spam email notification, and sighed as she sent the cell back to its bed.

Nothing from Beka.

She sent about her day, helping where she could, but mostly staying out of the way. The Bunker was too crowded and she couldn't get a word in anywhere anyway. Besides, there were things to be done, little boring everyday tasks that others overlooked that somehow fell to her.

She cleared beer bottles from ledges and swept the dried mud from the entryway. She stacked coffee mugs in the sink and set the dishes to soak. Cleared abandoned books from library tables and helped misaimed paper balls find the waste baskets.

In between each task she checked her phone, shaking her head at Beka's silence before hammering out another, “where are you??” text. It wasn't like her to be gone all day without a peep, very odd that she'd left so abruptly that morning, even stranger that she seemed to have her phone off.

The running gag was that Beka's phone was glued to her left hand, you never saw her without it; it wouldn't have seemed right.

So for her not to answer…

Something was up.

All around her there were faces, but none familiar. She hadn’t seen Sam all day, and Cas was a blur, swiftly coming and going with a flap of his trenchcoat. Y/N was worried but she had nowhere to turn, no one around to listen to her rambling, probably uncalled for concern.

As she shuffled off to the kitchen to start a pot of soup, she tried one last time, this time dialing in lieu of a thousandth ignored text.

It only rang twice.

“Bek, hey. So…” Her voice echoed in the hall as she slowed to a mosey, kicking her sneakers nervously against the polished floor, making them squeak with each step. “Look, I know you’re avoiding me, but whatever you’re doing...I could help. I’m not an idiot. Something is up. Please, just…” Just what? “Let me know where you are. Or… at least, just let me know you’re OK. Please?”

She hung up without a goodbye and shook her head. Maybe it was time to say something.

Y/N swiped her thumb again and opened a text message, about to shoot one off to Sam, when the phone vibrated twice against her palm.

A notification from Beka lit the top of her screen but did not make Y/N feel any better.

“Stop.”

Beka hit send and then turned off her phone completely, watching as the screen faded to black. With an angry hand, she shoved the cell back into her pocket and sighed.

“Is everything… alright?” Michael asked, tilting his head in question. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked across the table and Beka shrugged it off.

“It’s fine.” Hoping to end his inquiry, she looked out the window as she lifted the tall porcelain mug before her and downed the sugary dregs of her coffee.

Michael pressed on, leaning forward to catch her eye. “Your friends are worried for you,” he said simply.

Beka smiled and looked up at him. He was right, they were. Sam was probably running around in circles while Y/N begged him not to pull his hair out. She cleared her throat and shook her head gently.

“They needn’t be,” she told him, “I’m right where I’m meant to be.”

Beka looked back at her hand covering his and gingerly pulled it away. “Hey,” she started, her voice unsure. “Can I...can I see Kelly?”

Michael leaned back in his seat and smiled. “Of course.”

They slid out of the booth together, and Beka paused, waiting as the Angel dropped a folded twenty on the table. An electric shiver slithered down her spine when Michael pressed a palm to the small of her back. She grit her teeth against it, determined not to let him get to her, but her knees jellied at his melting touch, and she suddenly found herself leaning into him as they strolled toward the exit.

Beka had to fight the urge to wrap an arm around his waist, to breathe him in as they walked the short distance to the car. She had to remind herself that this wasn’t Dean, that the thing dwelling inside the hunter could turn her to dust with a simple snap of his fingers. She had to be cautious, had to be sharp.

If Beka wasn’t careful, Dean and Kelly could very well be lost to her forever.

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head quickly to clear his mind. There was too much going on, too many people needed his attention, too many fires were burning. He cringed as a bolt of pain struck between his eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling another migraine coming on.

“Wait, where is she?”

Y/N hesitated, seeing the pain on his face. Last thing she wanted to do was give him something else to worry about, but Beka was in trouble, of that she had little doubt.

“I don’t know,” she said mekely, “she asked to borrow my car this morning, and she’s been MIA all day and then…” Y/N pulled her phone out and opened her messages, scrolling as she held it out to Sam’s gaze. “Nothing all day. Then that.”

Sam looked down at the single word reply and his shoulders fell. Beka was wordy. She used emojis when she wanted to be left alone, but ‘Stop’ and nothing else wasn’t exactly true to character. Something was awry. He cleared his throat and looked away. “She didn’t say where she was going? Nothing?”

“No.”

“How could you just let her leave!”

His voice boomed through the hallway and Y/N flinched. Her throat was tight when she replied, clenching her teeth to try and keep calm.

“I’m not her babysitter, Sam. Beka’s a grown ass woman and sometimes she goes out by herself. What do you want me to do, put a tracker on her ankle?”

“She never just goes out by herself.” Sam dropped his chin. “Fuck.” His whisper was deep enough to get lost, but Y/N heard it just fine.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t-”

Sam cut her off as he spun on his heel and took three steps away. He dialed Beka’s number quickly and held his breath as it went right to voicemail. “Shit. Find Cas,” he yelled over his shoulder, doubling back to add a meek, “please.”

They all met in the War Room, worried faces illuminated from beneath by the ever-glowing table. Castiel and Y/N hovered over Sam’s shoulder as he typed away at his laptop, every so often making a noise of aggravation.

“Nothing?” Y/N asked, chewing on her thumbnail and peeking over Sam’s head at the screen.

“No. The GPS is on her phone is off.”

“She never keeps it on,” Y/N said knowingly.

Sam huffed and looked passed her to the pacing angel on his right. “Cas? Anything?”

Castiel shook his head, still looking off to the left, listening. “She’s warded herself,” he said grimly.

Y/N let her thumb go with a wet pop. “She knows how to do that?”

Cas narrowed his eyes at her. “Apparently so.”

“Damn it.” Sam called them both back with his mumbled curse. “Traffic cams from Woodward, Oklahoma caught your license plate running a red light at 2:42, Y/N.”

She perked up and leaned over him, hand next to the laptop as she squinted at the screen. “Well that’s good! Why the ‘damn it’?”

Sam sighed heavily and sat back, waving a hand at the computer. “Because CCTV from around the same time shows the car left abandoned at a Gas ‘n Sip a few blocks away.”

Y/N stood back up. “So she ran the light and then switched cars?”

Sam nodded. “She ran the light on purpose.”

“Why would she do that?”

“To let us know she’s OK,” Sam said simply. “And to tell us to back off.”

A silence fell, each tongue growing still as their minds reeled.

Sam broke the nothingness, turning to Y/N. “She didn’t say… anything? No clues as to where she was going?”

Y/N shook her head.

“What about yesterday? The day before? Has she been acting weird?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N shrugged.

Sam threw his hands up in agonized frustration and stood from his chair, almost knocking it backwards as he went. “How can you not know!”

“I don’t know!”

“She’s your best friend! How did you not know if she’s been acting strangely?”

Y/N’s annoyance level had reached its peak and she snapped. “She’s your friend too, Sam! Not that anyone would know it lately!”

Hazel eyes fluttered in shocked offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t exactly been around for anyone these last few weeks, Sam.” She didn’t mean to, but Y/N wagged a finger at him scoldingly. “You’re a fucking mess. Look at you! You don’t sleep, you don’t eat, you haven’t shaved in God knows how long. You’re gonna fall apart and you don’t even care.”

“I care!”

“No, you don’t.” She crossed her arms with an air of finality and Sam scoffed. “Maybe if you were a little less… I don’t know, exhausted, you would know what’s going on around here.”

Sam stammered, his brow creasing as he sneered down at Y/N. “So this is my fault?”

Castiel stepped in, throwing his hands up between the tense friends. “This is no one’s fault. We will find Beka and bring her home.” He smiled kindly at Y/N and then looked to Sam, his gaze firming up. “You should go rest.”

Sam rolled his eyes “Cas-”

A firm hand pushed against Sam’s chest. “Go.”

Sam made his way down the curved halls, his mind in a fog, not paying attention to his route. He turned left instead of right and ended up at Beka’s door, not bothering to knock before stepping inside.

The room was an organized mess, just like Beka. Everything had a place, but nothing was put away. Clean laundry was folded and neat but sat in piles on top of the dresser instead of within; her desk held a mountain of papers and scattered notepads, pens tucked everywhere but inside the pen caddy.

The trashcan beneath the desk was amazingly empty, as none of the waste seemed to be able to make the trip down off the desk into it. A ball of wadded up notebook paper lay on the floor beside it, and Sam bent to scoop it up, finding the mess somewhat unacceptable.

As he went to toss it into the can, Beka’s writing caught his eye, more specifically, the way her bubbled cursive spelled out his name.

Sam - I know you’re gonna try and stop me which is why I didn't tell you. I think I can bring him home. I found something

There was no more to the note and half of the words were crossed out as if she’d changed her mind midway.

“No… Bek.”

Sam bit down hard on his bottom lip, his eyes closing as well, done. He fell down onto her empty bed, sitting on the edge, not caring about the messy nest of blankets. The pain in his head was getting worse, the constant pounding picking up speed and intensity. He let out a full breath and hunched over, shoving his hands into the mattress to hold himself steady.

“Goddamnit!”

As he moved his hand, wanting to bring it up to shield his aching eyes from the light for a brief moment of piece, his fingers against the hard edge of a book tucked underneath Beka’s pillow. His eyes shot open and he pulled the text from its cave, quickly scanning the title.

“No...no.”

There was a tiny triangle of paper peeking out from the middle of the book and Sam ran his finger along the edges, carefully opening to the page she had left marked.

“Fuck.” He stood up quickly, making sure to keep his finger in the book as it fell closed in his big hand. He hit the hallway at a run, boots keeping him from skidding into the turn as he raced back to the War Room.

Michael held the screen door open as Beka stepped inside, eyes dancing about as she took note of the layout of the house. The living room was a bit dusty, and the carpeted stairs directly ahead could use a good vacuuming, but the place was otherwise tidy. Beka sighed as Michael stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“Nice place ya got here,” Beka teased, unable to stop herself. She ended with an awkward smile and swallowed hard, waiting for his reaction. Nerves were creeping up on her again, the scene she'd played on a loop in her head so close to coming true. Just a little longer…

The Archangel dropped his eyes to hers, a half smirk twisting his mouth. “This way,” he directed, flicking a finger toward the stairs. Beka stepped back, letting him take the lead. She counted each step as they ascended - it was a habit, something she always did out of some strange compulsion. Sometimes, back at the bunker, she’d count them out loud, more often than not prompting some teasing jab from Dean. The thought of him sent a twinge of pain through her chest, and looking up to see his body so casually infected by the evil angel pushed that pain towards anger.

All the way up, Beka braced herself. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d find, but she knew it was going to be bad. She had been preparing herself for this, she knew the risks - but actually being there was like stepping into a oil painting of her worst nightmare. Every step was slow; she could feel every muscle in her legs as she walked, every fiber of her lungs as she pulled in each breath. Her entire body was pulsing with the moment, with nervous energy that crackled through her.

Just a little further, she thought, following a few steps behind. Just take me to Kelly and we can end this…

The staircase seemed to go on forever, like it was reaching up into Heaven, but Beka knew better. She knew it was leading to Hell.

Go faster you son of a bitch. I want this over with.

Michael’s polished shoe hit the landing and Beka pulled in a tight breath, anxiety and fury twisting inside her gut. Michael lingered, not moving forward, causing Beka to slow her steps lest she run into his back.

Go! What are you waiting for you motherfucking…

She took another step.

Goddamned evil…

Michael moved aside finally, turning slightly to allow her to slip passed him, but she was so wrapt in her thoughts she let out a deep growl as she stepped up beside him.

“Piece of shit!”

Michael tipped his head, narrowing his eyes as they landed on her face. Beka froze instantly, realizing that her thoughts had trespassed out of her mouth and into the real world. She held her breath, afraid of what he might do, but Michael did nothing. He simply frowned.

“What...did you say?”

The annoyance in his voice was clear; the crisp consonants lingered in the air like a poisonous gas and Beka pushed forward through it, mustering up all of her strength. So, she hadn’t meant to say it outloud, she had, and now was a good a time as any to bring this all to a head.

“I said… you’re a… piece… of shh…”

The words faltered on her tongue as Michael touched her hand. A gentle sweep of his fingers across the top of her knuckles broke her concentration. She looked down at their hands, slowly inhaling as a dizziness overtook her. She wobbled a bit on her feet and blinked, trying to clear her mind.

“What…” Her voice was shaky, diluted by the fog.

“Rebekah.” Michael called her name softly, letting it ring out and through her mind, pulling her eyes upwards to meet his.

Something in the green caught her, some power she could not define cleared her thoughts, pushing away every drop of rage and replacing it with a calmness that she’d only ever found in her dreams. He held her there forever, just staring, pulling her closer like a magnet.

“Breathe.”

Her lips parted as he commanded her to take a breath, her body screaming as she obeyed.

Michael smiled and released her, taking a step back and watching as her glassy eyes refocused.

“You forget to breathe too often, my love. It’s not good for you.”

“I… um…”

Michael licked his lips and nodded towards the hallway. “Shall we?”

Despite their many late night conversations, Beka had not been able to get Michael to tell her anything about Kelly’s wellbeing other than that she was alive, and being cared for. Kelly had mentioned a cage, but Beka had assumed it was metaphorical.

It was not.

The cage was real and Kelly was curled up inside it, tucked into a corner diagonally across from the door. Her knees were pulled up to her chin, her hands beneath her cheek. Beka couldn’t see much, but she appeared to be clean, fully dressed and breathing. But her face was purple and black, a deep line of red cut into her bottom lip, and another, smaller gash above her eye.

Beka grit her teeth and felt whatever spell Michael had woven around her fade. Her anger returned, her purpose for being there reset itself firmly in her mind. She was there to save Kelly, to break her out of this Hell and get her to safety.

And, if her plan worked, she could get Dean back too.

She felt Michael move beside her and Beka swallowed down her fear. She had to play this right, wait for the perfect moment.

“You see?” he said, stepping around Beka to wave a hand over the cage. “She’s alive. She’s fine.”

Trying to keep her gaze relaxed, Beka forced a smile. “Thank you for letting me see her.”

Michael nodded in acknowledgement. “Of course.”

The curl of his plump lips was desperately distracting and Beka struggled to look away. She had to get herself together, had to press on.

She cleared her throat. “I...I’m sorry, could I have something to drink? I’m…” She coughed and rubbed at her throat. “A little dry.”

Michael smiled more fully and nodded, accepting her request. He turned quickly and Beka listened to his footfalls disappear down the hall and fade as the staircase took him down.

She rushed to the cage, dropping to her knees by Kelly’s side.

“Kelly!” Her whisper was forceful, but Kelly did not stir. “Hey! Wake up damnit!”

Beka stuck a finger through the cage and poked at Kelly’s arm until she woke.

“Michael?” Kelly was groggy, blue eyes aflutter as she looked around for her Master.

“No,” Beka hissed, shaking the cage a bit. “It’s me! Hey! Focus!”

Kelly sat up and turned to face her friend. “Beka?”

“Yes, damnit!”

The poor girl smiled, lost in a haze. “You came.”

“Of course I came,” Beka said, softening her voice. “I’m gonna get you out of here, OK? Are you alright? Can you walk? We’re gonna have to take it at a run. You with me?”

“No.” Kelly stretched her arms out in front of her and shifted on the cold floor, getting comfortable.

Beka sat back on her heels, shocked. “What? What do you mean no? You can’t walk?”

“No,” Kelly said again, this time in clarification. “I can walk. I just don’t want to.” Her voice was so chipper, so blindly happy that an icy chill made its way down Beka’s spine.

“What are you talking about?” Confusion tightened Beka’s throat, frustration pushed tears into her eyes.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Kelly told her honestly, her smile cemented and terrifying against the bruises that painted her face.

Beka took a breath, closing her eyes against Kelly’s obvious insanity. “OK,” she whispered. “It’s OK. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

Kelly’s eyes were huge when Beka looked back. “No,” she told her cheerfully. “You won’t.”

“Whiskey?”

Michael’s deep voice broke through all else and Beka jumped to her feet as he entered the room, holding out a cloudy glass of amber liquid for her.

She stepped forward and breathed away her tears, smiling at the Archangel. “Thank you. My favorite.”

“It’s not the...honey kind that you seem to prefer, but…” Michael shrugged slowly as Beka took the glass.

“It’s fine,” she replied quickly, “thank you.” The whiskey burned and she took the pain gladly, hoping it would steel her nerves.

“I’m pleased you’re finally here,” Michael said honestly, his eyes trailing her face, watching for her reaction. He was calm, too calm, and his gaze lifted the hairs on Beka’s neck.

“Me too,” she whispered and knocked back the rest of the whiskey, holding it in her mouth for a long second before letting it go. She exhaled as she swallowed and met his eye, keeping her expression as soft as she could. “So,” she teased with a smile and held out the glass for him to take.

“So.” Michael returned her smile and reached for the glass, his thumb brushing over hers purposely.

She ignored the electric shockwave.

She held her breath.

He turned to set the glass down on the desk.

She attacked.

Beka withdrew a shining crystal from her pocket and held it aloft in both hands as the spellbook had instructed her to do. She turned the point to aim at Michael as she summoned up every ounce of will hiding inside of her, every drop of faith, every molecule of power she possessed. As the empty glass hit the wooden desk, Beka recited the spell she had painstakingly carved into her mind.

“Murifri nibm od!”

Nothing happened, but she pressed on.

“Oadriax chiso berita!”

The Enochian felt wrong on her tongue, but she kept going, knowing that all her years in the Library and a lifetime of research had led up to this one moment and would not let her down.

“Geh! Ip! Cures lap zir vohim!”

Beka gasped as a blinding white light erupted from the crystal and slammed into Michael, knocking him forward.

Sam was bouncing back and forth on each foot, shifting his weight as he watched Castiel read. His arms were crossed and he chewed on the nail of his right middle finger, wincing when he gnawed too far and hit the tender skin underneath. “Ow.”

Castiel sighed dramatically and set the book down on the table, his hands on either side. He hunched over the tome and shook his head at the faded black ink. “This is not good, Sam.” His deep voice was raw, harder than usual, as if the last few weeks were wearing on him as well.

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, Cas, I know. What is it?”

“A very powerful spell.” Blue eyes were dark with worry, his face creased and cracked. “Beka cannot work this kind of magic.”

From across the table, Y/N piped up. “She’s really good at magic.” It wasn’t helpful, but she felt she needed to add something. She was coming up empty handed at everything else she tried.

“No, Y/N,” Cas said gently, falling down into the chair to his right. “This is… advanced spellwork. Far more complicated than anything she’s attempted before and…” He stopped, hanging his head, unable to deliver the worst of the news.

Sam stopped bouncing and stepped forward. “And what, Cas?”

A quick exhale dropped Castiel's chest and he looked up at Sam. “And...the translation from Enochian was incorrect.”

An invisible anvil settled on Sam chest and he sucked in a tiny breath to combat it. “OK. Maybe she realized it and...fixed it.” Frightened tears stung his eyes and he sniffed them back and away. “Beka is…” He cleared his throat to rid the last of the tears. “...Really good with words- languages. Maybe she caught the mistakes.”

Castiel nodded solemnly. “Even if she did, Sam… this spell was not meant for an archangel.”

Michael’s shoulders shook as he braced himself against the oak desk. Beka matched his tremble, almost vibrating with a mixture of hope and fear as she watched the Archangel succumb to the effects of the spell. She held her breath when he finally stilled, brown eyes wide as she watched him slowly turn to face her.

“Bek...” Dean was back, Beka could see it in his soft expression. He was panting, no doubt exhausted from the fight. She felt her chest tighten at the thought of just how long he’d fought and clawed inside his own head.

“Dean,” Beka breathed, a relieved whoosh of air pushing from her lungs. She ran to him, boots loudly rasping against the floor until she crashed against him. Her fingers scrunched into the fabric of his black sweater, and hot tears pooled in her eyes as she gazed up at the familiar face she missed so much.

“Dean, you gotta cast Michael out-”

“It’s not that simple, Bek,” the hunter panted,“I can’t just-”

“Yes! Yes, it is that simple!” Beka was frantic, voice a high screech, veins buzzing with adrenaline. “You can do it, Dean. This spell won’t hold him for long. Please!”

Dean nodded, mouth twitching with uncertainty, and Beka’s lungs expanded with a paused breath as she waited for the expulsion.

She watched as he doubled over, his face screwing in pained concentration. His lips parted to reveal gnashed teeth, and his eyes were welded shut. “It - it’s not working!” His words tore from his lips, and his voice was raw with the struggle. Beka’s heart hammered wildly as she took in the scene before her...and then stopped completely.

Dean’s face smoothed, his grimace morphing into a chilling grin as he straightened back to his true height. Beka swallowed as his shoulders squared, and her blood iced when green eyes ignited to a burning blue. She cried out when he suddenly fisted her hair, pain blooming over her scalp as he sharply tugged back, tilting her face up to his.

“In fact,” Michael said, voice even. “It won’t work at all.”

Impala-Dreamer’s FOREVER TAGS: (closed) : @adoptdontshoppets @akhuna01 @akshi8278 @amanda-teaches @bambi95-blog @because-imma-lady-assface @bluebirds-in-june @capsheadquaters @captainradicalpassion @charliebradbury1104 @chelsea072498 @chuckdangit @cleverdame @colagirl5 @cosicas-cuquis @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @covered-byroses @curly-haired-disaster @disneymarina @deansgirl215 @dean-winchesters-bacon @doa1518 @dubuforeveralone @duncedgoofball @dustycelt @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emoryhemsworth @emptywithout @ericaprice2008 @fandomimaginesftw-personal @eternal-elir @fandomismyspirit @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @grace-for-sale @hazeleyesstolemyheart @herbologystudent252 @idreamofhazel @ilsawasanacrobat @imgetting2old4diss @iona-laia @jayankles @jotink78 @justcallmeasmodeus @katy80us @katymacsupernatural @kdfrqqg @kittenofdoomage @lefthologramdeer @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @maui137 @meganwinchester1999 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @mjdoc90 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @natural-daydreamer @newtospnfandom @notesfromalabprincess @oneshoeshort @percussiongirl2017 @pisces-cutie @pilaxia @prose-goddess @randomparanoid @roxyspearing @sandlee44 @sculptorofbeginnings @serpentbaby @sgarrett49 @speakinvain @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spn-fan-girl-173 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @super100012 @supernaturallymarvellous @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @superwholockmarauder @tabrown2021 @teaminvisible @thegrungequeer @thehardcoveraddict @tornadoecat @trenchcoatsandserpents @trunk-full-of-ideas @tumbler-tidbits @violetsaucer @waywardbaby @waywardasfudge @wegoddessofhell @winchesterprincessbride @winchesterxfamilybusiness @wonderxland00

#spn fanfic #michael!dean #angst #ocs #dean winchester #sam winchester #series

315 notes · View notes

casseythebee · 5 years

Text

Crown of Roses

Bingo Spot: Fourth of July

Summary: After a long debate you and Sam finally set on a date for your wedding and the day has finally come.

Pairing: Sam x reader

Words: 1.7k-ish

Warning: pregnancy, a tiny bit of smut (it is literally just kissing in underwear), language

[Y/N’s POV]

“Triplets!”

“Dean calm down, it’s going to be okay,” you say to him holding your hands up in a defensive position.

“How are we going to be able to take care of triplets?” he bellows. “Wait a minute how long have you known and not told me?”

You and Sam make eye contact but look away quickly, avoiding Dean’s glare. “Well-” Sam starts but you cut him off with a death stare of your own. “We have to tell him at some point.”

You shake your head. “He is going to be pissed.”

“Cas,” Sam says, “had his suspicions early on but was not confirmed until after about 3 weeks give or take a few days.”

“You didn’t tell me for 13 weeks!”

“We didn’t want to tell you until we were absolutely sure that the babies would survive,” you admit. You have read that the risk of miscarriage is low after at least 10 weeks and that most women come out and say it after the first trimester. But you were scared. Sometimes multiple pregnancies don’t always survive, more so back in the day but you just wanted to stay safe. “It is a set of twin girls and a boy.”

“Cas! Why did you change it?” Charlie screeches. “I love that song!”

“By now you should've somehow

Realized what you gotta do!” you and Charlie scream-sing in unison.

Cas is driving, Charlie is upfront and you are sprawled out in the back. You are 12 hours into a 13 and a half-hour drive down to Padre Island, Texas. You and Sam chose the Fourth of July and the island for your wedding.

“And all the roads we have to walk are winding

And all the lights that lead us there are blinding!” you two sing again.

Charlie is wiggling around in her seat dancing to the best of her ability in the cramped truck. “Come on Cassey! Sing along with us!”

“Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me!” he sings in his deep voice.

“You're my wonderwall!” you yell.

Cas and Charlie are going to be your bridesmaids while Jack and Dean are going to be Sam’s groomsmen. Your bridesmaids helped you pick out your dress and you got to pick out their outfits. You wanted a red-themed wedding with roses because roses have always been your thing. You and Sam rented the honeymoon suite for the week while the rest of the gang is only staying the night.

You decided to keep the wedding small not a lot of people just your closest friends.

“Like a river flows surely to the sea!” Charlie screams.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” you yell over the loud music. “I want this to be the song to be our wedding song! But the Tyler Joseph version!”

“Yes, that would be adorable!” Charlie gushes. “Now I want to listen to them.”

You guys spend the next hour and a half screaming along to the lyrics of Twenty One Pilots and rapping to the best of your ability.

“We are here. Look at the view,” Cas says. It is a beautiful beach with bright blue water and golden sand, the people are starting to thin out leaving the beach practically empty.

You all pull up to a nice hotel and all pile out to rush the hotel to check-in. It is only 6 o’clock so after you all drop off your stuff in your rooms and head out to get dinner and explore.

“Sammy my feet and back hurt,” you wine giving him puppy dog eyes.

He leans over and places a kiss on your forehead. “We are almost there, love. It’s right there.”

Dean found a pub that is walking distance to the hotel that you are all going to eat at. Once again you eat way too much for dinner and Dean drinks a lot and you guys are out of there by 8.

“I can’t walk around anymore, you guys go out and explore I’ll go back to the hotel,” you tell them turning to go.

Sam grabs on to your arm and says, “I’ll go with.”

You two head up to your room and finally get a look around. On the wall opposite the door is a big king-sized bed. In a crevice in the are a heart-shaped hot tub and a spacious bathroom with a large double shower. Across from the bed is a huge flat screen tv.

“So… what do you want to do?” you ask looking up at him.

He leans over and starts kissing you. His tongue runs over your bottom lip asking for permission to enter, which you oblige to happily. He starts backing the two of you back towards the bed until the back of your knees hit the edge.

“Lay down,” Sam growls.

You turn around and crawl towards the headboard before turning back and settling down. When you look back at Sam he is in nothing but his boxers so you start to strip down to your underwear. He kisses a trail up your legs, your chest, and finally stopping at your mouth.

You sigh into his mouth before pulling away and laying a hand on his chest. “I am so tired after that car ride that I just need to relax, I’m sorry.”

“No, you are totally fine.”

You both settle in under the covers and put on a Marvel movie, Winter Soldier to be exact. About halfway through the movie, you doze off and Sam soon follows suit. But only a few minutes later you are yanked awake when Charlie, Dean, Cas, and Jack barge into the room.

“Woah, woah, woah, there is no sleeping together now! You guys have to get ready!” Dean says coming over. “Wait a minute please tell me you guys didn’t… you know, do it.”

“No, I promise,” You yawn and rub your eyes, “I know that is bad luck. What time is it anyway?”

“Almost 9 and we need to get you ready. Dean, Jack, Sam you go to the other room and get ready. Set up the beach we meet you down there, okay?” Charlie says looking at each of them. “Now go!”

When they are finally gone she grabs your dress out of the closet along with her’s and Cas’ suit. “You are going to look positively gorgeous in this.”

“Oh stop it, you’re too kind,” Cas jokes.

You all giggle and start to get ready. Charlie helps you get into the dress and do your makeup. When you are all done you look into the full-length mirror in the closet. Long whitish-pinkish lace hugs your frame and pools at your feet creating a train behind you. A sweetheart shaped neckline accentuates your breasts and makes them look full. The off the shoulder, full, sheer straps pull the dress together nicely. You decided to go natural for makeup, with nothing but sparkly lipgloss and mascara. Cas actually did your hair in large ringlets cascading down your shoulders and back with a crown of roses atop your head.

Next Charlie slips into her dress. It has the same sweetheart neckline and is a candy apple red fit and flare dress, with tank top straps. You french braid a couple of pieces of her hair and pull them back before weaving baby’s breath into it. She slips into plain black flats before looking into the mirror.

“Oh my god! I didn’t even realize this dress had pockets!” Charlie yells in excitement. “You did a great job making me look pretty. Thank you.” She turns and hugs you, making sure she doesn’t squish your baby belly.

“Cas you have to get ready as well,” you say turning to him. “You are not allowed to wear that dirt trench coat to my wedding.”

“It’s fine.” He snaps his fingers and the suit you picked out for him magically appears on him, and his old clothes are neatly folded on the bed.

“Show off,” you say and Charlie rolls her eyes.

Cas is wearing a black suit with a white button-down, a red vest underneath, and a red and black striped tie.

“Looks like you forgot something smart ass,” you scold him and reach into his suit bag to grab the red pocket square before folding it and tucking it in.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” Cas admires stooping down to place a kiss on top of your head.

You whisper a quiet thank you to him as you feel your face heat up. “Wait where are my shoes?”

“Shit did Dean forget to grab them?” Charlie rips through everything trying to find them before you lay a hand on her arm.

You lightly say to her, “It’s okay. It will be kind of fun to go barefoot, I can dig my toes in the sand. Besides, the shoes will hurt my feet anyways.”

Cas helps you walk to the car because your feet still hurt, and you notice Dean left Baby for your guys to arrive in style.

Cas drives agonizingly slow to the beach but lucky for you the view is amazing. It is a clear night and the sky looks amazing, the stars and moon lighting up the night.

A gasp escapes you when you see what the boys set up for you. There is a long and wide trail of roses and rose petals leading from the foot of the stairs to the arch, which is decorated with vines of roses. Along the path are lit candles. On each side of the path, there are five chairs arranged neatly, each of them filled with other hunters dressed up in their finest clothes. Among the crowd are Claire, Alex, and the witch twins. Underneath the arch, Jody stands in the middle with Sam to your right and behind him are Dean and Jack- in that order.

Cas gets out of the car and offers you his arm. “My lady,” he says with a smirk and wink.

You grab his arm and he helps you out of the car and starts walking you down the stairs. Charlie grabs the train behind you to keep it from dragging and you all walk down together.

When you all get to the end Charlie walks off to stand in her spot and Cas brushes a kiss against your cheek. “Be good to her, or else,” Cas warns Sam.

“Ready?” Sam asks grabbing your hands.

“Ready is most definitely my middle name.”

Fireworks go off a little way down the beach as well as your heart.

#Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fluff #Superntaural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #fluff bingo #fourth of july #dean winchester #castiel #Jack Kline #jody mills #claire novak #alex jones #oceans of roses #crown of roses

2 notes · View notes

fanficsofmine · 5 years

Text

Wake Me Up - Chapter 1

Summertime. Young. Single. Free.

You were living your dream life. You had a great place, amazing friends and a steady job. Independent and happy and free, what more could you ask for?

You didn’t think that meeting Chanyeol at a concert or Minho on the beach would influence your life as much as they did. They weren’t supposed to, anyway.

What exactly are you to do with whirlwind romances that show up when you weren’t expecting them?

Characters: Park Chanyeol, Choi Minho, OC’s

Word Count: 2243

Soundtrack: We are the Ones - King the Kid

A/N: This will be posted every Saturday! Enjoy! -Admin T

I took a long drag off of my cigarette and handed my roommate the bottle of merlot we were sharing. She took a swig of it and took a deep breath, taking in the night air. It was nearing 3 am, and this was our weekend routine. After our nights out, or even nights in, we always made time to sit outside together and just breathe.

I glanced over at Desi as she fiddled with her phone to change the song playing. Her pale skin, sky blue eyes, and chin-length blonde hair all shone, even in the darkness of night. She was a calculus major at the University here in town. Her boyfriend was passed out on our couch, (Pre-Law will do that to you,) and they were my two best friends.

I had just moved back to town. I had galavanted off for a year to a new town, completely alone. It was supposed to be a time of “finding myself,” but instead I ended up sharing my 23rd birthday with strangers from the restaurant I had worked at for a couple of months and a feeling of lost time. Not that it had been completely worthless. I did discover just how much I despised the state of Missouri...

It felt good to come home. My small-ish Texas town was like a blanket. The sky was open and clear enough to see stars, even with the city lights. The light guitar pluckings of John Meyer or Jason Mraz or somebody of that sort was just loud enough for us to hear and not disturb our neighbors. It was home.

Desi leaned her head back against the railing of the balcony and said, “you know, those things are gonna kill you one day.”

I shrugged, but nodded, tapping the end of my cancer stick out in the ashtray. “Yeah. I’ve done it for almost 10 years now, though. I had to impress those high school boys, Desi! Mama didn’t raise no quitter.” She rolled her eyes at my response. “I know. I know. I always tell people, ‘if you don’t smoke, don’t start!’ and I’ve been helping one of my other friends quit. They’re just kind of, a part of me I guess. I’m sure I’ll stop one day.”

Desi picked up my pack and said, “what if I hid them from you?”

I laughed. “That would stop me until I found time to run to the convenient store. But how about this? It’s July, right? I’ll make it my goal to quit by the end of the year.”

She tossed my cigarettes back to me and raised an eyebrow as if to say, “uh huh. Sure.” Instead, she actually asked, “what’s your plan for tomorrow?”

Taking another sip of wine from the bottle, I said, “well, there’s a concert a few hours from here. Presley said she wanted to go check it out. I think we may head down and grab a bite and watch a few bands play. She said she knows one of the opening acts. Might be fun. Wanna tag along?”

Desi nodded back toward the living room. “It’s our anniversary. We’re gonna go to dinner and visit or first date spot.” She swooned a bit and I smiled. I loved their love.

“Ah yes. The day true love was invented. I forgot that’s tomorrow.” She laughed and told me to go to bed if I was going to be driving. I raised my hands in surrender and compiled. I did my best to not wake Collin up as I tip-toed through the living room to get to my room. I shut the door behind me, but not before my huge tabby I had rescued, snuck through.

“Come on, Stormy. Let’s go to sleep.”

The daylight spread across my face way sooner than I had been ready for. There was a knock on my front door and I groaned when I saw it was already noon.

I shuffled through the living room and saw Desi peek her head out of her bedroom on the opposite side of the apartment. She only had one eye squinted opened and I waved her back to bed. No objections came from her as the door clicked shut again.

Presley was standing there, arms crossed. Her bright, naturally red hair was down over her shoulders, exposed by a cute tank top over distressed jeans. Her freckles scrunched together as she said, “is that how you’re wearing your hair?”

I rolled my eyes. “Good morning to you too, sweetheart. Come in.” She was already halfway through my door before I had even finished the phrase.

“I figured you’d still be asleep.” she said. “I come bearing gifts of hangover relief and ‘let's get moving sleepy head.’” I was suddenly aware of the plastic grocery bag in her hand and I reached for it, but she pulled it back.

“Clothes and hair first! I’ll drive so you can do your make up in the car!”

I groaned but complied. After digging through some drawers, I settled on a pair of jeans and a baggy t-shirt I knotted up. Half of a bottle of dry shampoo later, I grabbed my make up bag off of the counter and returned to the living room. Presley, ever the prepared friend, had already filled up two to-go coffee thermoses of coffee and handed me one. Closing my eyes, I sipped the warming elixir and sighed.

“Okay. Now I’m ready.” It was time to wake up.

The four hour drive wasn’t to bad. I did my make up as best as I could for being in a moving vehicle. Presley and I screamed steering wheel karaoke-worthy songs at the tops of our lungs, and talked about broken hearts and dreams and ambitions. We had gotten into town super early, and discovered that this show was at a super shady venue.

“You did not just drive me four hours away to get murdered, did you?” I stared at the venue cautiously.

“Don’t be dramatic.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve actually been here a few times. It’s not that bad once you’re inside.”

“Well, it’s a bit too early to go inside. They’re not even open yet.” I rolled my neck and stared at her. “Why did you come pick me up and make me lose precious sleep.”

“The doors open to the public in a couple hours. I brought us here early because…” she pointed across the street from the venue. “That place has the best god damn pizza of anywhere I have ever been in my life. We’re gonna go feast before we rock out.”

She wasn’t wrong. The pizza slices were as long as my face and neck combined. It was greasy and cheesy greatness. I almost overate to the point of being willing to miss the show, but, Presley wasn’t going to let that happen. After we let our food settle for a bit, she dragged me out of the booth and we walked across the street again. A line was starting to form at the door and, once we paid our cover, we went inside.

The bands were… good? A couple of soloists opened up first, and they were alright. One of the openers was a heavy metal band trying to jam way too hard for a 5:15 pm slot, and I was way too sober for this.

As if she could read my mind, Presley showed up next to me and handed me a beer. As next band was preparing for their set, she leaned over and said, “so, this is my ex’s band.” I nearly choked on my beer.

“Wait. What?! We drove all this way to see that ex?!” How had I not put two and two together that her “knowing someone in one of the bands” translated to, “the guy we regularly refer to as the spawn of Satan.”

She nodded at the lead singer who was tuning a bass guitar. “Don’t be mad! He said he was gonna be close by and he wants to talk after the show and I knew you would be up for a road trip!” I sighed and took another drink of my beer.

Yup. Definitely too sober for this.

They began to tune, and I caught glimpse of the guitarist out of the corner of my eye, which then led to him having my full attention. He had a curly fringe that hung over his eyes in an “intentionally messy” fashion. His sleeves were rolled up and I could see a couple of tattoos decorating his arms. He kept glancing at The Ex and flashing this amazing smile when he laughed as they joked on stage.

Once the lights dimmed, there were several loud fan-girl cheers and then a beat of silence before a guitar strum brought the lights back up. The band immediately jumped into a pop-punk sounding jam that I found thoroughly enjoyable. People around me started dancing and singing, and I wished that I knew the music to join along. Instead, I just threw my head around and bounced along with Presley as they rocked out. They introduced themselves on stage after the song, and I caught guitarist's name; Chanyeol. He flashed another charming smile at the crowd, and, for a moment, I thought I got an extra few seconds of eye contact. It didn’t last long before he was back to jamming out.

After their set, Presley and I made our way back to the bar. She said that they would be coming out to “meet with fans” and that The Ex, (still didn’t bother to learn his real name,) had texted her that he wanted to talk. I rolled my eyes and she shoved me. I made my way to the bar and ordered another beer. Eventually, I saw Presley and her ex sitting at a tall table across the way. The conversation seemed light and easy, so I wasn’t too worried, but I made sure to keep her in my line of sight in case she needed an out.

I must have been staring hard, because I jumped when a voice behind me said, “ah. I kind of hoped you were a ‘guitarist’ kind of fan, not a lead singer girl.” I spun around to see Chanyeol there leaning against the bar. He nodded toward my beer and said, “can I buy you another one in hopes of changing your mind.”

I laughed and replied with, “oh. Yeah. Nope. ‘Children of the ruler of the underworld’ don’t fall under my ‘types’ so I’m definitely not interested in him.” His eyebrows furrowed together and I clarified, “that’s my friend. He’s her ex.”

Once realization hit he said, “ah! You’re Presley’s friend!” He reached out to shake my hand. When I offered mine, he shook it and said, “we were all on her side of the break up, just so you know.”

He ended up buying me another beer. Conversation flowed easy between us. Occasionally, we were interrupted by someone asking for pictures with him, but he always jumped right back in to focus on me. We discussed music and books, (turns out he was a huge “Lord of the Rings” fan) and movies. I noticed that he had changed out of his button up and was in a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off of it. I saw a few more tattoos along his arms, accompanying the one on his wrist. He caught me trying to make out one on the top of his arm, and he finally aimed it toward me to show me a monkey. He explained that it was his Chinese Zodiac.

“You have any?” he asked. I told him that I had a few, but not anywhere that could be visible. “I work a desk job. You know, gotta maintain the ‘professional’ appearance. No fun hair colors. No visible tattoos. No crazy piercings. I get to appear completely boring.”

“You appear the furthest thing from boring.” I made eye contact again with him to see if he was teasing, but his expression was serious. The corner of his lip pulled into a tiny smile and I was thankful for dim bar lighting to hide my blushing.

“So- where’s your next stop?” I asked, changing the subject.

“We’re headed to Austin tonight. You should come.” His response caught me off guard.

“Uh… what?”

“I said you should come with us. Tomorrow is Sunday. You’ll have time to…”

“To drive back in the middle of Sunday night to make it to work exhausted on Monday?! You’re crazy! Plus, I have Presley with me. She’s gotta get back too.” I was trying to not lead on how desperately I actually wanted to go watch him perform again. I didn’t want to seem crazy. Was that crazy?

“I bet she would be willing to go too.” He pointed to the corner and I turned to see Presley making out with The Ex.

“Crap. I was supposed to not let that happen.” I pretended to look guilty and Chanyeol laughed. He put his hand on my knee and said, “don’t go back yet. I need to get to know you more.” I hadn’t realized how close he had moved toward me. Our knees were touching and his face was only inches from mine. He was mesmerizing. I took in his features. His eyes were sharp. His lips were full.

I agreed to go.

26 notes · View notes

kallura-icedcoffee · 6 years

Text

golden hour: opal

A/N: The song referenced in this fic is “Demons” by Sleigh Bells. There’s also some bonus Plance.

She’s Electric

Allura looks really good in leather pants

“You don’t need to pay for all my drinks.” Keith picked up his Old Fashioned and clinked glasses with Lance.

“You came to visit me all the way from Texas and I’m going to show you a good time.” Lance smirked. “If you want you can buy us breakfast burritos tomorrow cause I assure you my ass is gonna be hungover.” He knocked back a shot and immediately ordered another drink.

“So I’m gonna be honest Pidge in a band is…”

“Hot? Yeah I know.”

“I was gonna say not what I was expecting.” Keith took another sip and watched the crowd in the packed club, leaning back against the bar.

“If we were talking about high school Pidge I would’ve totally said the same thing, but she really branched out after we graduated. I think she got tired of everyone thinking she’s just some tech nerd hacker girl.”

“Well I mean I knew she was taking guitar lessons and you said she picked them up quickly but I would have never thought for a million years she’d want to be in a band.”

“I can’t wait for you to see her. She’s so cool when she plays. She’s really excited you’re here too.” Lance grinned and checked his watch. “I think they’re gonna start soon.”

People had already started crowding near the stage and the music they were playing over the speakers had begun to die down. Lance and Keith finished their drinks and waded into the sea of people but were only able to make it half way in before they hit a wall of unmoving bodies and decided to stay put. By this point the drums were already assembled on stage and two guitars, a bass guitar and two microphones with stands were being brought out. A man who worked at the venue started doing sound check. Thirty more minutes and the MC was on stage attempting to hype up the crowd.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?!”

The crowd cheered.

“You guys ready to rock?!”

They cheered a bit louder.

“Well we’re very excited to have these talented ladies here tonight and we know you are too so let’s not waste anymore time shall we? Let’s hear it for Castle of Lions!”

Three ladies walked onstage to loud claps and hoots and whistles. A tall athletic tanned brunette with a short bob took her place behind the drums. A curvy blonde with low pigtails sauntered out and picked up the bass. Pidge came into view next. She wore her hair in a high messy ponytail. She’d switched out her regular thin silver framed spectacles for more stylish black glasses. She wore a black flannel that was tied at the waist, black cutoff shorts and black suspenders. Black combat boots finished off the look.

Pidge picked up her emerald green glitter guitar and fiddled with it a bit while she scanned the crowd. They hadn’t dimmed the lights yet and she was able to spot Lance and Keith quickly. Her face lit up and she motioned for them to come closer. Lance shook his head, signaling that they couldn’t move any further. Her nose scrunched up and next thing she was on the microphone.

“Hey move the hell out of the way so my boyfriend can come up front!” She snapped then immediately smiled.

The other two girls on stage laughed. Keith looked mortified. Lance just smiled proudly and brought Keith to the front row, right up against the stage, while people whistled at them and patted them on the back. Pidge gave a small wave and winked at the both while Lance made a kissy face at her.

“I love it when she’s sassy and authoritative.” Lance beamed while looking up at her.

The final girl came out on stage to more applause and hollering. Keith did a bit of a double take when he saw her. She wore a cutoff graphic tank top with black leather pants and kitten heeled red ankle boots. Her white hair was long and a bit wild, coming down over half her face. Her smoky eye makeup made her blue eyes even more vibrant. She picked up white guitar and slung it over her shoulder, tuning it a bit more and adjusting the strap before looking out into the audience.

“That’s a special edition opal white Fender Telecaster!” Keith blurted out, staring at the girl who, between her guitar and her hair, looked like the moon.

“I have no clue what you’re saying but keep it in your pants loverboy, it’s just a guitar” Lance said.

“Check, check check.” She said softly into the microphone. “Hi guys did you miss us?”

The crowd yelled.

“Good cause we missed you too and we’re so glad to be back here at Balmera. Thank you as always for having us.”

Her voice was soft and sweet like honey and Keith was surprised to hear a British accent. She turned to the other girls and placed a fingerless gloved hand over the microphone. She was checking with each girl to make sure they were ready. When they nodded she was back at the mic.

“Well if you guys are ready and we’re ready let’s do this!”

The crowed clapped and the lights dimmed.

“Who is she?” Keith whispered quickly in what little silence they had left.

“Allura.”

Pidge started off the song, strumming aggressively on her guitar. Lance was right, Keith thought, she did look pretty damn cool up there. Allura and the blonde joined in briefly before the drummer dropped a powerful heavy beat sending the whole crowd in an uproar. They began to clap in unison. The stage lights were a mix of reds and whites and strobes.

“You drink the wise blood. You're gonna hear about it. You'll be taken down brick by brick by brick. Burn the orphanage, you're gonna pay for it. They will purify block by block by block.”

“Demons, come on” she continued to sing with Pidge backing her up. “You've got a vision! You're on a mission! Demons, live on. And when I die, hang me high!”

Allura worked the stage during her lulls in singing, moving from one end to the other. She would turn her back on the crowd and take her hands off the guitar to push up her hair and roll her hips. The cutoff tank top she wore gave everyone a taste of what was clearly a full back tattoo. Keith could see the bottom of what looked like a lion and flowers. He swallowed hard.

“They're gonna bury you. They're gonna finish. They're gonna stand em up six by six by six. You pull the hood back. I wanna know, which way will the heavenly go? Take it down, take it down, take it down. Take it down, take it down, take it down.”

She was powerful and beautiful and seductive. One minute she seemed as if she was losing herself, out of control, next moment her mouth would curl into a devilish smile and she looked like a predator scanning the crowd for her pray. She spotted Keith in the front row and locked her gaze on him, eyes burrowing into his skull. She flashed him a grin with a playful lip bite. His breath caught in his throat.

“Demons, come on. You've got a vision! You're on a mission! Demons, live on. And when I die, hang me high!”

Now the crowd was singing the chorus along with her.

“Demons, come on. You've got a vision! You're on a mission! Demons, live on. And when I die, hang me high!”

Pidge played a short solo for a moment while Allura whipped her hair around before bringing her lips back to the mic.

“And you will answer to no one else but me. And you will answer to no one else but me. And you will answer to no one else but me. And you will answer to no one else but me…”

The song ended and the crowd erupted into applause and howls. Allura stood there for a moment with her hair completely covering her face, breathing heavily. She finally pushed her hair back with her hands and sauntered to a nearby stool with bottled water and took a sip. Keith didn’t even clap at first, he just stood there a bit dumbfounded, staring.

He did that a lot for the rest of the set, just staring, listening, taking her in as she sang and screamed and howled into the mic. During the upbeat songs she was electric and during the slower songs absolutely alluring. At one point during a more sultry song Allura crawled on her hands and knees and licked the side of Pidge’s boot during her guitar solo which sent the audience into a frenzy.

Before Keith knew it, to his disappointment, the show was over. The girls were bowing, having given the crowd two additional encores and were exiting the stage. Lance led Keith back to the bar to order drinks for the girls who he knew would join them eventually.

“So…what did you think?” Lance smirked sipping a fresh cocktail.

“Pretty good.” Keith said cooly.

“They actually played some of that emo shit you live for and that’s all you can say?”

“Fine. Pretty damn good. Happy?” Keith said while seemingly looking around for someone.

“She’s not seeing anyone in case you were wondering.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Lance flashed Keith a very knowing look.

Keith was about to snap at him when a pair of hands hugged Lance from behind. Lance straightened up and spun around to see Pidge grinning at him. He wrapped his arms around her neck and bent down to give her a slow kiss, which turned into a mini makeout session given how much Lance had already had to drink.

“You were amazing up there.” He placed more tiny pecks on her lips.

“Thank you. You smell like vodka.” She laughed into his mouth.

“I got you some too don’t worry.”

“Good boy. Keith!”

Pidge pulled away and dove into Keith for a warm hug. He smiled and ruffled her ponytail.

“What did you think?”

“You guys were amazing. Very cool Ms. Lead Guitar.”

Pidge beamed and did a little curtsey. She then took the drink Lance had gotten for her and sucked it down.

“Please tell me one of those is for me.” Keith heard a familiar voice from behind him. He straightened up.

“Of course.” Lance handed it to Keith purposely to give to her with grin.

Keith shot him a death glare before turning around to hand it to Allura.

“Allura, this is my friend Keith from out of town, Keith this is Allura.”

“Thanks.” She took the drink from him. “Nice to meet you.”

“You’re good” he fumbled his words out. “I mean you’re singing is good, the songs are good.”

He quickly gulped down his drink to stop the rambling. Allura snickered and sipped her drink.

“The girls got a booth, wanna join them?” she suggested.

Everyone got more drinks before joining the other girls who introduced themselves as Shay and Romelle. Lance and Pidge, being the little assholes they were, made sure to quickly dive into the booth leaving Keith no choice but to sit next to Allura. Keith mostly sat quietly, partly soaking up the conversation, party acutely aware of how Allura’s shoulder was pressed against his and she smelled an intoxicating mixture of perfume and sweat.

“So you’re from Texas” her voice finally cut through his wandering mind.

“Huh?”

She leaned in and got dangerously to his ear, her lips actually brushing his lobe. He shivered.

“I heard you’re from Texas.”

“Uh-um yeah well I was born there and then we moved here but then I went back for school.”

“Cool.”

She brought her glass to her lips but didn’t drink, simply resting it there.

“So,” she continued, “Is your girlfriend going to be ok with the fact that you’re here with a bunch of girls getting drunk at some dive club?”

He almost choked on his jack and coke.

“I, uh, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh,” she finished off the last of the cup’s contents before placing it down, tapping the glass with her nails, “that’s cool too.”

Keith’s brow arched.

Allura had been sitting at the edge of the booth and excused herself to get a new drink.

“Keith, buddy, you look like you could use a drink too.”

Keith’s forehead crinkled and he looked down at his half full glass.

“No I don-”

Lance cleared his throat loudly to cut him off before motioning with numerous quick nods towards the bar where Allura was standing, very much alone.

“Oh…OH! Yes, I should go freshen this up.” He quickly slid out and made a beeline toward the white haired singer.

Lance shook his head as he threw an arm around Pidge, kissing her temple.

“God this kid. I have to do everything for him” he grumbled.

AO3 LINK

#kallura #kalluramonth2018 #ficsbyKIC #plance

44 notes · View notes

winchesterprincessbride · 6 years

Text

Worlds Collide-Part 2

Part 1 My Master List

A/N: This story is a Marvel/Supernatural crossover and a collaboration between me and my sister in all the ways that matter @kittenofdoomage. I have been annoying the shit out of her talking about this thing NONSTOP, but she likes me so she’s cool with it.

Ten Months Later

Two weeks had passed since your last case and you were enjoying some downtime with Sam. It was nice to just spend time with him and not have to focus on the next thing that was trying to kill you. The two of you stayed up late sharing stories about your childhoods. Sam told you all about growing up as a hunter, and leaving the life before John’s disappearance and Jess’ death sucked him back in.

You shared the loneliness of spending your life in the foster care system, bouncing from house to house, never fitting in anywhere, and always trying to hide your abilities. Finally when you were fifteen and considered pretty much “unadoptable”, a kindly couple fostered you and were in the process of adopting you. The Bradshaws gave you the kind of stability you had only dreamed of.

Then Mrs. Bradshaw got possessed by a demon and killed Mr. Bradshaw and tried to kill you. Your heart broke when you used your powers and electrocuted her. You hit the road and immediately hooked up with a hunter who explained to you what her black eyes and complete personality change meant. And then your eyes were opened to what was REALLY out there and you began to hunt full time, using your abilities for good instead of giving tiny shocks to the bullies in your foster homes.

The three of you were sitting at the table in the war room playing poker to pass the time and Cas had popped in. He observed in silence for a time, his face unreadable as he obviously tried to pick up the game. “Do you know how to play?” you asked the angel.

He shook his head. “I’ve never had the opportunity.”

You patted the chair next to you. “Come, sit. I’ll teach you, it’s fun. I bet you're a good bluffer. You have a great poker face.”

“Bluffer?”

Dean snorted. “She’s gonna teach you how to lie, Cas.”

The angel looked alarmed. “I don’t think I……” An insistent knocking on the bunkers heavy front door startled everyone and Cas stopped talking. Sam and Dean instantly jumped to their feet, throwing down their cards and pulling their guns from the back of their waistbands. Cas was up out of his seat, angel blade drawn and at the ready.

“Someone’s at the door? Does that ever happen?” you asked tentatively, unsure if anyone else actually knew where this place was.

“We’re off the beaten path. People don’t exactly come here trying to sell us Girl Scout cookies,” Dean replied, eyes never leaving the door, his finger on the trigger of his Colt.

The knocking came again. “Should we answer it?” you said. “If it were something trying to kill us I don’t think they’d knock.”

Sam nodded slowly and you took the lead, walking up the stairs, with Sam and Dean right behind you. Pulling open the heavy door, you were surprised to see a helicopter in the driveway, partially obscured by the two people in front of you. Standing in the doorway was an attractive redheaded woman dressed in all black who looked vaguely familiar. Next to her was a muscular man with blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

You recognized him instantly even though he wasn’t wearing his trademark red, white and blue suit. Your eyes widened and you pulled back a little, fingers lightly gripping the door.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N?” the woman asked, her voice a husky purr.

“Who wants to know?” Dean snapped, standing behind you, unable to see the visitors with the light filtering in the doorway from outside.

“Dean,” you hushed, not taking your eyes off of the visitors. “Don’t you recognize him?” You stood back, gesturing for them to enter. “Come in, please.” The blond man grinned good-naturedly, stepping inside and offering his hand to Dean, who was struggling to pick his jaw up off of the floor.

“Hi, I’m Steve,” he said. “Steve Rogers. Is this a good time?”

Dean stared at him, unable to process what he was seeing in front of him. “Holy crap, Sammy. It’s Captain-freaking America,” he whispered in awe.

You had invited them into the library to sit and talk. “This is our friend Castiel,” you told them, gesturing in Cas’ direction. Cas was staring intently at the Captain, a perplexed look on his face. “Clearly you know who we are.”

“Agent Romanoff,” the woman replied. “Nat,” she added as she turned to Sam and Dean. “The Winchester brothers. And Cap’s reputation proceeds him as usual.”

“Call me Steve, please,” Captain America said, looking directly at Dean, who was beaming like a tween meeting Justin Bieber.

“Okay, then, Steve. Why are you here? What do you want with us?” Sam asked quietly, distrust evident in his voice. He was standing right behind you, looming over your shoulder like he had to protect you from them.

“Are you a shapeshifter?” Cas asked Cap suddenly.

“Am I a what?” Steve looked really confused and everyone looked at Castiel in concern.

“You are at least 90 years old,” he started to point out, “but you have the appearance of being no more than 30. So, are you a shapeshifter?”

“He’s not a shapeshifter, Cas. I’ll show you the comics later. It’s all good, man,” Dean informed him helpfully and the angel frowned, apparently unsure of the reply.

“How did you know he was 90 years old? That was pretty specific,” Natasha asked, her face a mask of curiosity.

“I am an angel of the Lord. I know many things,” Cas said matter-of-factly before anyone could stop him.

“Excuse me? You think you’re an angel?” Nat said, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Sam held out a placating hand. “Listen, guys. I’m sure you have seen some weird stuff in your line of work. We have too. You came all the way out here to find us, so you must have some intel on us, and know what we do.”

“The monster thing? That’s not really true, is it?” Cap questioned intently, his eyes on you.

“Every freaking word. Vampires, werewolves, witches, and all that scary shit that gave you nightmares as a kid, it’s all real,” you told them with a sigh.

“And demons, and angels and God. All Real. We were just as shocked to find out aliens were real. We’ve never run into them before,” Dean said honestly.

“Wow. Tony’s gonna have a fit when he hears all this,” Nat said to Cap.

Sam perked up at that. “Tony Stark?”

“I need to show you something.” Nat pulled out a small Ipad and set a video to play. It was from the town in Texas where they had fought the vampires. There had been a big showdown with the surviving six in an abandoned grocery store in town where they were holed up. The video that played clearly showed Y/N using her powers and pulling lightening in and blowing out the front windows so they could storm the building. Nat stopped the video.

“We also have footage of the four of you from other places around the country. It caught Tony’s attention. He wants to meet you and your friends,” Cap said quietly.

“Someone filmed me using my powers?” you said nervously. “Who took this video? I’m so careful...”

“Tony Stark wants to meet us? Why?” Sam asked excitedly, calming a little when you glared at him. The opportunity to meet the famous Tony Stark would usually give you a little booster but knowing people had filmed you? Seen you use your powers? It just made you worried about the entire situation.

“He hasn’t given us any of that information,” Steve explained. “He just asked us to fly out and invite you back to Avengers Tower. Said he’d come himself but…”

Nat smirked, folding her arms across her chest. “Steve’s better at this.”

“Avengers Tower! In New York?” The laughter bubbling in your chest caught you by surprise at the thought of anyone wanted to meet you. There were plenty other special people out there, right? “You don’t expect us to come on that helicopter of yours, do you?” You pointed at the elder Winchester. “Dean doesn’t fly.”

Dean looked mortified, shaking his head furiously. “Hell, no. Can I drive there?”

“So are you all willing to come?” Nat asked. You looked at Sam, and he nodded.

“Cas?” you asked the angel, wanting at least a little backup. Okay, they were the Avengers, the good guys but all too often you’d seen good guys go bad when they didn’t understand something.

“I will go of course,” he replied and you smiled, nodding in relief before turning to the most anxious member of the small group. Dean was already at the point of sweating over the helicopter.

“Dean?” you asked softly.

“As long as I don’t have to fly,” he pointed at you, “I’m in.”

“What about you, babe? I know you’re not keen on showing people what you can do, so it’s your call.” Sam was smiling when he said this, and you knew he would go along with whatever you wanted.

You held your hands out, grinning to cover up your nerves. “How can I say no to Tony Stark?”

“So it really would be easier if we flew. The ‘copter is much faster than a regular plane. It will have us to New York in an hour and a half, tops. Tony always seems to know everything about everyone, Dean, so he had Dr. Banner made a hypospray that will put you to sleep for out the duration of the flight,” Steve told them, watching Dean for his reaction and he frowned, clearly uncomfortable with leaving his Baby behind.

“That’s a good idea. Do you really want to bring the Impala to New York City where she could get damaged or stolen?” Sam asked his brother, injecting concern into his voice as he placed one hand on Dean’s shoulder and the elder Winchester sighed.

The best way to motivate Dean was to threaten his Baby with bodily harm. “Fine. Let’s do that then.”

“Okay, everyone. You have ten minutes to pack what you need. Then we move out,” Steve ordered in an authoritative voice but there was still a smile on his face and everyone jumped to comply.

As Dean and Sam walked you down the hall to your room, Dean’s face lit up with excitement. “Man, Cap is so cool. And Iron Man? This is going to be awesome!” He disappeared into his room and you looked up at Sam, wishing his hopeful grin would make you feel better.

“It is going to be awesome,” he reassured you, parroting Dean’s words softly. “We’re with you. The whole way.”

Part 3

@kittennovak @midnightdream83 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @crystallstaircase @inumorph @justballoonfishthings @enthusiasmisdepressing @vatuuwinchester @skybinx-blog @percywinchester27 @a-sea-of-fandoms @dorky-and-i-know-it@tokyoghoulyz @pinknerdpanda @atc74 @jayankles @notnaturalanahi @midnightjazzmine @moonlitskinwalker @we-are-band-sexuals @winchestergirl-love @gecko9596 @ronnie248-blog @essie1876 @bohowitch @just-another-busy-fangirl @jotink78 @captainradicalpassion @keelzy2 @disneymarina @kittenofdoomage @mrswhozeewhatsis @oriona75 @frankiea1998 @akshi8278 @stylinson531 @valynsia @dr-dean @imweirdandobsessed @growningupgeek @luciisthebest @laurenisnot @maddieburcham1 @canadianjelly @muliermalefici @brewsthespirit-blog @ilsawasanacrobat @nanie5 @weasleywinchester @samisimportant-blog @fatalcrossbow @violetsamalamb @letmusicguideu @grantsgorgeousgirl @faegal04 @feelmyroarrrr @kay18115 @milkymilky-cocopuff @mikimausiii @the-greatest-temptation @superpanicromancesummer @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @emoryhemsworth @squirrel-moose-winchester @jennifromtheblock1013 @spnbaby-67 @mogaruke @sweetmisseddreams2002 @negan–is–god @spnwoman @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @maximumkillshot @sweetpeamoose @mrs-meghan-winchester @woodworthti666 @herbologystudent252 @sandlee44 @blackcherrywhiskey @andkatiethings @thoughtfullyfurryangel @apeshit7x

159 notes · View notes

doomedandstoned · 6 years

Text

The Doom Doc Traces Metal’s Heaviest Genre To Its Roots

~Review by Shawn Gibson, with Billy Goate~

The story of doom begins two generations ago in the UK with a band called Black Sabbath. An important new film, titled The Doom Doc, seeks to connect the dots from those early days to the present, just one city away from Ozzy, Tony, Geezer, and Bill’s Birmingham roots. Directed by Connor Matheson, the Sheffield documentary was released the same year as Black Sabbath played their last.

youtube

DOOM /do͞om/

noun

death, destruction, or some other terrible fate

verb

condemn to certain death or destruction

The Doom Doc made its timely appearance in 2017; the year Birmingham legends Black Sabbath decided this was (really) The End. Roughly an hour-and-a-half north, we’re met by the hustle and bustle of Sheffield, England. Traffic is awash in a glowing red hue. Pedestrians going to and fro in crowded movements reminiscent of a group of ants.

Sheffield is home of Def Leppard, Human League, and Pulp for the mainstream. For the underground, it’s home to Kurokuma, Regulus, Ba'al, ARAE, and a steady swell of others who are making sure the UK doom scene stays on the map right where Black Sabbath left it.

We hear the voice of Craig Bagshaw, who lives in Sheffield and also fronts Holy Spider Promotions. He tells a tale of going to a party and one of his mates answering the door with a screwdriver in hand and a wild look in his eyes. Upon entry, Craig's friend tells him that he's got some MDMA and he's already toasted. There is an argument about quality of said MDMA. Craig's friend then takes his belt off and starts whipping his mate’s asses as if he was their dad! He screams some twisted gibberish about the Holy Order of the Spider.

Most everyone reading this understands how DIY metal is and even more so with doom and sludge. Jack Newnham of Slabdragger argues, "You’ve just got to make your own scene. You've got to make it happen! If you don't, there isn't a scene." Not surprisingly, heavy music for these folks has become a lifestyle. "It goes beyond hobby to a lifestyle," insists Slabdragger’s Sam Thredder.

Doom may mean different things to different people, but to George Ionita of Kurokuma and ARAE, "Doom’s like fucking apocalypse! It's like when it rains down on you, like when it's so heavy...When we come out with a heavy riff, we'll take off our plugs and stuff and just fucking mosh. That's what doom is! It's the pleasure inside, when I close my eyes playing the song and I see visuals.” George has an example in mind for us, too. “We've got this song about a fucking volcano. I close my eyes and I think about the volcano. I see the volcano overflowing, exploding. It's boss! It's all I've got to say."

Bandmate Joe E. Allen chimes in: “You don't go to doom-sludge shows to hear nice melodies and to hear someone singing nice songs. You go because you want feel like something heavy hitting you in the chest and that's the kind of shows we put on with Holy Spider. We don't want something that feels like a normal metal gig. We want to do something that feels like you’re on some other plane of existence. It's just mashed together into this experience of really loud, really. Really extreme heavy, affecting music."

Sheffield-based writer Rachel Genn serves as narrator of The Doom Doc, tracing doom metal all the way back to the almighty Black Sabbath. Sabbath changed everything and influenced everybody. They’re the first band to tune down, she recounts, because Tony Iommi had to in an attempt to play guitar after an unfortunate industrial accident clipped several of his fingertips. The incident is recounted in Tony’s own memoir, Iron Man: My Journey Through Heaven and Hell with Black Sabbath (2011).

"That started the whole thing," affirms drummer Vinny Appice of Black Sabbath, Dio, and Heavy & Hell fame. "Tony plays in the pocket, playing these chords. You wanna hear doomy chords? Just let Tony riff for a little bit. It's amazing! That's why we call him Mr. Riff -- The Riff Doctor!"

"Yeah it's all about Sabbath really, isn't it, to be honest?” turning back to Slabdragger’s Sam. “Like, they just smoke weed all the time -- so did all the bands in the ‘60's -- and they make the music we pretty much make."

youtube

Rachel sums it up nicely for us all: "Doom metal is a subgenre of metal and involves very slow tempos, extremely loud volumes, repetitive, sometimes psychedelic, riffs, and long compositions. Lyrics dealing with evil negativity, spirituality or fantasy. It’s the musical equivalent of wading through black treacle."

I’ve not had an experience with black treacle, but it sounds tantalizing.

"I think like one of the main things with like the Conan guitar sound is, in general, that the fact that the guitar is tuned to drop F, which is totally, ridiculously low,” Says Chris Fielding of Conan and Skyhammer Studio with a chuckle.

youtube

Breaking down doom even further, the documentary tells us where the subgenres of sludge metal and stoner rock fit into the equation. "Sludge is like a wilder, greased-up version of doom,” we’re told. “It was Melvins from Washington who first begun the sound." The Seattle band, of course, famous for its punked-up doom tendencies. Other bands like as Eyehategod, Sourvein, Thou, and Crowbar would go on to define the genre even more distinctively.

Speaking of which, the great Kirk Windstein now makes an entrance to tells us about the sludgey roots of the venerated NOLA band Crowbar. "We had come from thrash backgrounds and all that kind of shit. We were like, We just want to do something completely different. We're burned out on it. We kinda just did the opposite of what everybody else was doing. Everybody else was tuned to E standard, playing 1000 miles an hour [so we] tuned it down to fucking B and drop A, playing super slow. We felt it made it a lot heavier.”

youtube

It appears that Kirk has been caught up in the Spirit at this moment in the interview, as he then exclaims: “God it's so fucking heavy! There's no way to describe it. I love heavy music!"

Cheers to Kirk Windstein and his earth-shakingly heavy riffs.

In the '90s there was another scene that must be mentioned to understand the evolution of doom metal. Several states down from Washington, another important development in heavy music was taking place in the much sunnier terrain of the southwest. Most famously, bands like Kyuss and Fu Manchu dabbled in fuzzy, tuned-down rock ‘n’ roll, which we simply call stoner rock. Stoner bands began appearing not only in California, Arizona, and Texas, but all around the freaking world.

Rob Graham of the Sheffield-based Wet Nuns and Drenge mentions being a little irked by the term stoner rock. “I think it's sad when any form of expression becomes just about the drugs that the people are into,” he says, while also noting: “It's pretty cool to smoke weed and listen to heavy music.” A better word to focus on? Blues. “To begin with we were sorta just a blues band. Like we were this thrashy kinda garage blues band. Bored, creative people that wanted to really [make] fuckingly stupid loud music.”

As the conversation goes along, we stumble upon a familiar theme: “Somewhere along the way we stumbled across this like kinda thing heavy, so heavy!” Rob says, notably enthused. “That's what we're about we were trying to be as heavy as we could be. It's like trying to run in a swimming pool! It's like being stuck in a tar pit and melting. That's what it conjures to me, anyway."

Anyone up for little skinny dip in a lake of treacle?

While “stoner” may be used in a derogatory sense, there’s no denying that marijuana has been a huge influence for doom metal and stoner rock bands alike, leading to the advent of stoner-doom. If Black Sabbath started doom’s love affair with their ‘71 single “Sweet Leaf,” bands like Electric Wizard and Sleep (with their monumental opus, Dopesmoker) forever married Mary Jane to The Riff. Others, such as Weedeater, Weedpecker, Bongzilla, BelzebonG, Dopelord, Dopethrone, have become important mile markers for the scene.

"Yeah the two seem to go hand in hand," says Kez Whelan of Terrorizer Magazine and Nottingham doom-grind act Shrykull. “Even though it's associated, that sweet leaf is the influence it isn't for everybody in the doom scene.”

Not everyone is down with the dope, however. Craig and Joe’s counterpart in Holy Spider Promotions, Terry Larkin, is introduced to us next. A UK doom fan, he is quite; a marijuana fan, not so much. "I was never really into the whole listening to music and smoking weed. It doesn't affect me nicely at all!” He does seem to contend that we can get high on the music composed by a musician under the influence. “They can actually channel it into the music effectively giving the listener that same feeling, too." Music makes you high? That’s a thesis we can get behind.

Kirk Windstein returns, because you know he has stories to tell from all those years hanging with Phil Anselmo, Pepper Keenan, Jimmy Bower, and the rest. "A lot of the guys did smoke weed,” he recalls, “so we were very creative sitting in a circle together with a good buzz, you know, coming up with shit that ended up being great. Down was much more of a collaboration and a jam session type thing. So we jammed from fuckin’ in the afternoon until whenever -- fuckin’ two o’clock in the morning. By then, everybody was tanked or high or whatever might be. We were able to come up with some great music doing it that way!"

youtube

By this point in The Doom Doc, we’re clear on at least one thing: doom, whatever the flavor, is about keeping it real. You’ll never be short of songs about the despair, depravity, and greed in this dog eat dog, eye for an eye world of ours. Doom metal bands are straight shooters. Whether it concerns religion, politics, or human nature, they call it like they see it.

"Bands like us and in our genre and the whole nine yards, we write and speak about reality," Kirk says. "A lot of people are scared of reality. The truth hurts. A lot of people try to sugarcoat it [and] sweep it under the rug. I think it's important. People always ask me, you know, ‘Can we talk about this, can we talk about that?’ I’m like, you can ask me anything you want. I might not answer, [but] chances are I'm gonna.” What he says next really resonated with me, as I’m sure it will with many of our readers: “I think it’s really for people struggling, you know, with depression -- or its alcohol and drugs. It's very important for them to realize they’re not alone and other people have been there."

Ethan McCarthy of Primitive Man chimes in: "We're writing about real life stuff, you know, so it's like a way to release bad feelings about life's shit, if that makes sense." It makes good sense to me.

"I don't know what we're into, but I fucking like it!" proclaims the great Bill Ward, adding: “You know, for me, playing in a loud, aggressive band, which is what Black Sabbath was, it’s the most comfortable, sonic, and heartfelt place one could be.”

Doomed & Stoned’s Elizabeth Gore and Hugo Guzman were fortunate enough to contribute to this portion of The Doom Doc, visiting the Black Sabbath drummer at his studio in Los Angeles.

This scene we invest in. We choose to nourish this garden.

"Doing a live gig,” Bill Ward says, “I need to thrash and to play and get everything out of me and reach that place of satisfaction inside. I like to come off the stage wasted...It’s very sexual. It’s like, you know, it’s the same thing we have to do when we get together and have sex!" Oh, Bill. You do have a way of leaving us speechless.

youtube

“Playing live on stage gives me that same feeling," Bill continues. "That's what music is supposed to do! It's supposed to go wherever it's supposed to. It’s pretty simple. I find no faults, no judgement, you know. Leave that to someone who’s more righteous. As far as I'm concerned, metal's fucking metal!"

Returning now to Joe E Allen from Kurokuma: “I remember Conan being extremely atmospheric, extremely heavy, extremely loud -- and that was only amplified by the way we were feeling. It was almost a transcendental experience. I was touched by the finger of doom that night!"

youtube

As a vested fan of the genre, this was pretty much my “Hell, yeah!” moment of the documentary. From start to finish, The Doom Doc is an evident work of passion. For fans of doom, it should be required watching. I’m not sure how newcomers to the genre will take it -- it’s hard to be objective when you listen to it, write about it, play it, and live it. Nonetheless, this 90-minute film is a welcome entry into a fairly small collection of documentaries on the heavy underground. Hopefully viewers will be inspired by it to dig into their own local scenes and do a little riff-mining of their own.

Upcoming Screenings of The Doom Doc

International Film Festival Rotterdam (Holland), January 2018

Desertfest London (UK), May 2018

Bristol (UK), May/June 2018

Brutal Assault (Czech Republic), August 2018

Look for The Doom Doc on DVD by this summer at www.theDoomDoc.com

UPDATE!

The Doom Doc DVD is now available pre-order, with worldwide shipping and streaming options availalbe. Visit: thedoomdoc.bigcartel.com

#D&S Reviews #Doom Doc #Holy Spider Promotions #Connor Matheson #Black Sabbath #Bill Ward #Crowbar #Kirk Winstein #Conan #Jon Davis #Kurokuma #Slabbdragger #Doom #Metal #documentary #Shawn Gibson #Doomed & Stoned

4 notes · View notes

carolinaclouds · 7 years

Text

Stay (part 5)

Pairing: Sam x Reader (we’re getting closer guys) Summary: God tells Sam and Dean that they do, in fact, have soulmates out there. Warnings: very sad Sammy, little bit of fluff if you squint real hard. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Sam was not okay with this plan. Sam wasn’t even told about this plan until it was already in action and being followed through. “Why are we going to Texas again? I told you, Dean, I just wanna go home,” Sam sighed, slumping against the car as he stretched his legs. “I told you, Sammy, this is just a pit stop,” Dean said, slightly frustrated at his brother’s nagging. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he put the gas nozzle in Baby and waited as she was being filled. Sam watched as Vivienne crawled out the door and wrapped her arms around his brother, giving him a small squeeze; he didn’t fail to notice the serene smile that took over Dean’s face in just a few seconds of being in her embrace. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair, taking the nozzle out and putting it back at the pump and closing the gas cap.

Sam got back in the car without another word, whatever it was Dean was trying to accomplish, he was going to at least give his brother the chance.

It had been a few days since Sam had figured out you were his soulmate; it had also been the same amount of time since Sam had given up all hope of being with you, there was no way in hell you would ever love Sam again; not after he left you in the dirt waiting for him. Sam finally looked up, coming back to reality, when Dean parked the car. They were in the back woods part of some tiny town in Texas. There was a very rustic looking cabin that almost looked familiar to him, but had long been overgrown with weeds. “We’re here!” Dean smiled triumphantly, motioning to the cabin. Vivienne looked at Sam and then back at Dean and smiled, but shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “Sorry, babe, uh this is something that you two need to do.. and I’m scared of snakes,” she cocked her eyebrow, smiling as Dean winked at her, “I’ll protect you.” Getting the door open was no problem, it was actually walking through the cabin that would prove to be a challenge. The floors were weak and had plants growing through the cracks, vines up most of the walls and the furniture looked to be home to many animals. “This used to be a bad ass hunting lodge,” Dean sighed, carefully walking on the creaking floorboards. “Ooh, watch out for that spot, Sammy, I almost just fell through,” Dean motioned to a small spot on the floor that was considerably weaker than the rest. “What are we even doing here?” Sam asked, swatting through a cob web, stopping when Dean turned to look back at him. “You don’t remember this place?” Dean asked, a small look of hurt flashed though his eyes, but disappeared as soon as it came. “No,” Sam shrugged, following Dean into a tiny room just under the stair case, almost hidden, he watched as Dean yanked back the closet door, his machete and flashlight both pointed and ready. Sam continued to watch as his brother felt the back wall of the closet, slightly pressing on each of the panels until one gave in and fell back into the wall. They both cringed, watching some bugs crawl out of the opening before Dean shone his light down the hole, before quickly reaching in and pulling out a grey, metal box. “Hold onto this,” Dean said, shoving the box to Sam as he quickly stepped back from the closet, just as the floor caved in and became another hole. Dean whistled, smiling at Sam, “That was close. Don’t open that until you’re alone, okay?” he said, nodding his head at the box Sam was holding close to his chest.

The suspense was actually making his skin itch. Or maybe he was allergic to something the box had been exposed to; either way, Sam’s body was so riddled with nerves for whatever was in the box, that he nearly jumped out of the car when they pulled into a motel parking lot. Dean checked them in, handing Sam his hotel key, before leading Vee to their motel room. Dropping his bag on the floor, he shut the door and locked it, just in case Dean decided to barge in. He gently set the box on the bed, crouching on the floor, his gun ready just in case. Taking a deep breath, Sam pulled on the lock that held the box closed and it practically disintegrated in his hands. “I can do this,” he whispered, thinking that whatever was in the box was going to be some major secret that Sam wasn’t supposed to know. Maybe it was about Dean? Sam didn’t know. His hands were shaking he was so nervous. Whatever was in this box, Dean knew about and he wanted Sam to be alone when he found out. Whatever this was, it couldn’t have been good. After pacing a few times and taking a few shots of Jack, Sam sat down on the ground, his back against the other queen size bed and the box in his lap, he opened the top to the box. It was hard to not break the box, the hinges were so corroded, it was easy to tell this box hadn’t been touched in a very long time. In faded black letters, the underside of the lid said ‘My Sam Box.’ He took another deep breath, his head falling against the side of the mattress, of course it was about Y/N, how could it not be? On top of everything, there were letters addressed to him, his Stanford address. Stamped and everything, just never sent. There were about 5 letters, all being held together by a light pink piece of ribbon. Gingerly, he set them on the ground next to him before delving back into the contents of the box. 200. There were easily 200 Polaroid pictures of them together. It wasn’t all just them though, some were of Sam and Dean, there were a few of their Dad, mostly of Y/N. He made sure to be gentle with them, he didn’t want to damage them in anyway. After all, it might be the closest thing to her he would ever get. Sam didn’t realize he was crying until he was about half way through the stack of photos and one caught his eye. It was of you standing at the bus station, you were wearing this blue and green flannel and you had the same baby pink bow holding your hair up; your cheeks were red and your eyes were puffy. The date in the bottom corner showed the exact date he left for college. “I took that picture,” Dean’s voice made Sam jump. Looking up, Sam saw his brother, even through his blurred vision. Dean came and sat on the ground next to Sam, gently taking the photo from his hands. “I remember waving you off. She sat there and watched the bus leave, she waited until your bus was long gone before she let herself cry,” Dean sighed, handing the picture back to him. “We didn’t leave that bus station until the security guard kicked us out, she just.. couldn’t leave,” Dean’s voice wavered and Sam could tell he was trying to keep a hold on his emotions. “I don’t.. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as heartbroken, in my life, as she was that night. She knew, Sammy. She knew that you weren’t going to come back, not even for her.” Tagging: @kaylynnw428 @jared-padaloveme @skymoonandstardust @sleepdeprivedchildren @beyondthisstuff @xninastoffels @roseangel013bf @eringva @imagine-that-100 @captainradicalpassion @sea040561 @cjwinterz @smilesnjh @vampire7595 @firewerewolf101 @evansrogerskitten @thenormalesthuman @blushingfaeiry @luckyfriess @teapartydreams @shelter-with-bambam @bethelifeofmyparty

351 notes · View notes

mikeshanlon · 7 years

Text

our love was made for movie screens;

pairing: riley matthews and lucas friar word count: 1.5k prompt: “day one: canon verse - something that takes place in the canon universe as we know it” written for: rucas fanfic week 2017 summary: lucas friar loves the movies, but he love seeing them with riley even more. a/n: so, this is my first rucas oneshot, and it’s probably not that great, have mercy. the fic is set in the summer between 7th and 8th grade. there’s been a lot of references to rucas movie dates in the show (gm texas pt. 3 and gm the new year) but we never saw any of it, so i imagined what one of them was like. the movies mentioned are avengers age of ultron (cursed) and inside out (which i haven’t seen dfgjdfg) and the title is from all i want by kodaline.

There was something special about going to the movies. Maybe it was splurging on overpriced buttery popcorn and sugary sweet chocolate, or finding the perfect seat to settle into. Perhaps it was escaping screams and the crushing weight of expectations, the feeling of knuckles and the taste of blood-- the distraction of being transported into another world and focusing on someone else’s problems. But the best thing, to Lucas, was the company. He wasn’t always the best at talking to others, unsure of his words, but he didn’t have to talk when he was at the movies. Lucas was allowed to bask in presence of his friends, listen to their laughs and watch them cry, just be. The movies revealed the little things that made his newfound friends tick or burst out into grins. It helped him understand the crazy people who were Farkle, Maya, and Riley; while he seemed to fit in well with the three, he still had a lot to learn about the native New Yorkers.

Lucas Friar loved the movies, plain and simple.

Yes, he even enjoyed going with Farkle, who spoiled the whole thing twenty minutes in using his genius powers. Once he got over being annoyed, it was honestly sort of adorable how excited Farkle got when he figured everything out, although Farkle would probably resent that comment.

Maya always had snarky side comments about the movie that made Lucas chuckle, although when Riley was with them he’d have to hide his laughter from her judging stare. The two of them often saw horror movies together because Riley and Farkle were too scared to go. She’d laugh at the gore and torture, which was slightly worrisome to Lucas, but she’d just say it was ‘so obviously fake Huckleberry’ when they left the theater. Whenever the characters did something stupid she’d yell at the screen, clenching her fists in anger-- it was safe to say her constant talking had gotten them kicked out on more than one occasion.

His favorite person to go to the movies with by far though was Riley Matthews. Maybe that was due to his major crush for the brunette who loved purple cats and cotton candy, but she was the most fun to go with. She didn’t talk throughout the movie, being as enraptured as he was, but the two would passionately discuss every miniscule detail for hours over hot chocolate from Svorski's afterwards.

Lucas loved the way she’d laugh too loud at every single joke, and make sure nobody heard her with an embarrassed blush across her cheeks. To him, her laugh was more beautiful than all of the soundtracks combined.

Tonight, the two of them were seeing the newest superhero blockbuster together. Usually, the whole group saw those movies together, but Maya and Farkle had betrayed them and gone and seen it early.

Okay, maybe ‘betrayed’ was a little strong, but Lucas was very passionate about films and seeing Captain America kick some ass.

They stood in line for the tickets, just close enough for their hands to brush. Riley’s hair was in it’s usual waves, with some small braids making a crown around her head. She looked gorgeous against the summer sunset with hues of pink, purple, and orange. Part of him wished the jean jacket she had over her red dress with white flowers was his own, and he made a mental note to find the denim jacket in his closet when he got home. After he inevitably spent an hour thinking about the evening of course.

“I’m so excited,” Riley grinned, rocking back and forth on her heels, “Avoiding spoilers from Maya and Farkle was one of the hardest things of my life though.”

Lucas nodded in agreement, “At least Maya doesn’t do it intentionally like a certain friend of ours.”

“Mm, it’s sort of endearing though” Riley fiddled with her wallet.

Even though Lucas agreed he decided to tease her a little, “You think everything’s endearing when it comes to your friends.”

“True, but that’s because you guys are amazing,” Riley beamed, “Like, for instance, you are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”

Oh. This definitely backfired. Lucas looked away to hide the blush spreading across his tanned cheeks.

“Uh, thanks Riley.”

Riley nodded in satisfaction, a glimmer in her eye making him think she meant to get him all flustered.

The line inched forward and they bought their respective tickets. Even though he knew it wasn’t really a date he still hated seeing her pay for her own things, so, being the true southern gentleman he is, Lucas bought all the snacks.

“Lucas, I’m an independent woman who can pay with her own money” the brunette protested.

“I’m pretty sure you got that money from Topanga” Lucas countered.

Riley sheepishly admitted this was true, “But I’m going to set aside some gummy bears for you okay? What color do you like the best?”

Lucas shrugged as they picked up their food and located their theater, “I don’t really care, whichever ones you don’t want.”

“That won’t do,” Riley shook her head, “you aren’t getting my scraps. What about blue?”

He looked at her quizzically, not understanding her reasoning.

“Isn’t that your favorite color?”

“Uh, y-yeah, it is. Thanks.”

God, he was a mess.

They found a nice spot in the middle towards the back to settle in and enjoy the action. There were only a few trailers left before the movie started, and one for the upcoming Disney movie appeared on the large screen. Riley began digging into her extra large popcorn that she always finished way too early and had to get more. He hated when she was gone for too long though, so he made sure to get more than he usually did so they could share later.

“I can’t wait to see that one,” Riley leaned into his side and whispered, “The main character has the same name as me-- isn’t that cool?”

Lucas chuckled, “Well, we’ll see it when it comes out then.”

Soon the movie started, and the audience were thrown in the middle of a chaotic fight scene, with loud explosions and guns. The music swelled up and matched the fast paced nature of the scene. Riley jumped beside him as a body fell to the floor, and reached out to grab his bicep for reassurance. Her hand stayed there until the action died down and she took a deep breath before digging into her food. The loss of warmth and touch disappointed Lucas, but it was adorable how she didn’t even realize what she did.

He glanced over, seeing her pick out a red gummy bear and savagely tear off it’s head, her chocolate eyes transfixed on the screen. Even though Lucas loved the movies, Riley was a much more beautiful sight.

However, Steve Rogers just showed up on screen, and Captain America was sort of his favorite superhero ever (although he’s been told he has more similarities to Hulk) so he focused on the movie instead.

The movie was about halfway over, and Lucas was pretty livid-- Natasha and Bruce?! Now he understood why Maya and Farkle had been yelling all week. He had expected more from the movie, so his interest plummeted, he honestly just wanted to leave and send a letter of complaint to Joss Whedon.

But he was with Riley, and any moment with her was one well spent, and he wanted to make the most of it; especially with the absence of Maya and Farkle.

Now, because of his love for the silver screen, Lucas considered himself a bit of a movie aficionado. And with that knowledge came and endless list of tropes and references from rom-coms, horror movies, and action films.

Just about everyone knew it. Person A pretends to yawn and puts an arm around Person B. Cliche as all hell, but Lucas was getting frustrated with the lack of progression of their relationship, and if it all went wrong, he could just move back to Texas and live in solitude until death. Completely rational.

Thankfully, the scene was pretty boring, so yawning wasn’t super unrealistic. Lucas shifted in his seat and feigned his best yawn (he nailed the lead role of Romeo for a reason) before stretching out and hooking his arm around the back of Riley’s seat.

Riley burst out into giggles and quickly covered her mouth in an attempt to stifle the laughter.

“Are you laughing at me?!” Lucas whispered in what was somehow both genuine and faux mortifying embarrassment and disbelief.

“No!” Riley squeaked, but the laughter continued to tumble out of her pink lips, “...Maybe.”

Lucas began to move his arm away but Riley scooted in closer, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Gummy bear?” she offered him some in her palm, and graciously took them.

A smile to bright it rivaled the sun spread across his face, and he munched on gummy bears and popcorn for the rest of the movie, rubbing small circles into Riley’s arm.

There was something special about going to the movies, but there was also something extremely special about Riley Matthews and feeling of comfort and joy she gave him.

Lucas Friar loved the movies, plain and simple. And it was too soon to call whatever the two of them shared ‘love’, but he was sure he could learn to feel the same way about her.

#rucasficweek2017 #rucas fic #rucas fanfic #rucas #lmaoooooooooo idk how i feel about this but here yall go #my fic

124 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

We've Got Tonite (Jivy/Shalaska/Trixya/Pearlet) Part 5: Epilogue - Saiphl

A/N: So… we finally reached the end of this story, thanks to all of you who took the time to read it and give it some space and love.

Particularly, I guess this is my favorite part of the whole fic, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy it since it was taking shape inside of my mind.

Part 5: Because I feel just the same for you

It had been almost a year from that far, far away night, all those months had been such a twister… lots of work, full bookings and the whole expectation created around the new season that had been broken by the announcement in the #NNNAwards, everything turned to madness, the fans waiting, the full gigs, the beginning of the new Battle of the Seasons tour, that started early in 2016. Violet was about to give her crown to a new reigning queen and say the goodbyes to that amazing year that gave her so much to be grateful at.

The Austin-Bergstrom International Airport was full of people, some of them departing, some of them arriving and some others waiting to see those faces they were missing, and there, there’s where does this story come to the end, on the arrivals gate of international flights, where a very impatient Violet was tapping her long fingers on a table, making nervous an already anxious Katya, who beat down the moving fingers “please… stop it, you’re making me wish to cut off your fingers bitch”, Violet gave a bitchy smile to Katya, who was sighing deeply, looking at the arrivals screen on the wall.

Sharon joined them some minutes later, coming back from having a smoke out, bringing with her Ivy and Jinkx, that were having one of those pointless discussions about the comfortability of wedges and stilettos.

Call it coincidence or Fate, the flights they were waiting for were arriving with some minutes of difference, and as far Katya and Violet had been in Texas for a couple of days now, they thought that pick their sisters at the airport shall be nice for one time. When the arrival screen changed, showing the first landing, Katya almost jumped with excitement, taking the sign written with red lipstick half smeared letters “PLASTIC WHORE”, giving Jinkx the one with black letters that said “MISS TINY BUTT” and handing to Violet the last one with the royal blue letters “SLEEPY NERDIST”.

“And now please come with me let confusion fade away.

I can’t stand waiting. I can’t stand waiting.”

Ivy and Jinkx were holding the sign together, just the way they have been doing almost everything for the last year, even when their bookings had been full, and many of the gigs weren’t coincident, they found a way to keep it going together, as the best friends they had become… as the lovers they were. Proudly, they wore a couple of beautiful and discreet golden wedding rings, that they exchanged back in november, when they finally figured out that they were not able to be apart.

They were still so in love and so happy to be together, that they had almost forgotten how hard everything turned after that night on the Stage 48, they knew for sure they were meant to be together but they still had to do one more thing. When Ivy went back to Michigan, she wasn’t alone, Jinkx was there, holding her hand and encouraging her to be brave and give Keith the deserved apologies and closure for their time together… that was such a hard time and by the saying of the both of them, it totally worthed for what they got being together.

A month later, the house in Michigan were put on sale and Ivy moved temporarily to Seattle, where she and Jinkx created the foundation of what a couple of months later, became the Hoffer-Winters Manor in uptown New York.

By the time they were holding the sign on Austin Airport, they hadn’t been at their home for a while, but they were serious to say that home were wherever they were, as far as they were together, keeping each other in their hearts. When Alaska finally put her long legs out the gate, pulling her luggage, Ivy and Jinkx smiled at her, making her feeling the welcome home warmth that made her heart run real fast.

Dustin and Jerick didn’t know for sure what will destiny’s call be, but they both were sure that they would be able to face anything if they keep holding hands and trusting each other, ‘cause for them, love was about that: support and trust.

“And read down inside the deepest

Corners of my open soul.”

After Alaska got strong hugs from Ivy and Jinkx, she stood right in front of Sharon, who looked at her, with that crooked smile of her, they took a couple of steps to each other and got entangled in a tight hug, one that made Alaska felt relief when she realized that it didn’t hurt anymore, it actually was great to hug and be hugged by Sharon, who went back to be her best friend again, her partner in crime, and the person she could trust the most.

That morning, when Courtney caught them together at the hotel room, they showered together, having some sexy and funny time, it was some like the old times when they were together, but this time was better, ‘cause they had grown up and found that gladly, the old bruises had been healed, and there were no need to miss each other, as far as they could be together as friends.

“So… you’re here”, Sharon said to Alaska, who answered with a high pitch on her voice “if you didn’t want me to come to your gig, you should have told it girl… I could be back at Pittsburgh”.

Sharon faked an affected expression and then started laughing when Alaska bursted on laughing at her face

“As told… such a talker, and a cheater”, Alaska said to Sharon and they got embraced again.

Aaron and Justin just found a way back to each other, but this time, complying the promises they made, they had actually established some kind of routine of texting a couple of times a day, asking for the brutal honesty they always had with each other, and also to share the good things of a day, or just to be weird in a way that no one else could understand.

They both finally got the missing part of their souls, knowing for sure that they will always love each other, but they were much better being apart and they were in peace with that.

“I used to call you my treasure

But now you’re my new religion”

Katya started bouncing when she saw Trixie coming through the arrivals gate, she always felt really excited when she was about to meet her again, they managed to find a way to share good quality time, most of it while they were sharing bookings along US and Europe, they still haven’t decided if Katya would move to LA anytime sooner, or if Trixie would move to Boston…

They actually avoided to talk about it, ‘cause it always leaded to a pointless discussion that used to end with one of them wrapped around the other, attempting to convince one another to change their minds.

Trixie was really tired, there was something about the commuting that made her feel tired as hell, she was yawning when her eyes caught a glimpse of her Katya, bouncing and holding that red sign calling for some plastic whore and a wide smile spreading across her lips. Something in her heart melted almost immediately.

Behind that russian whore character, Brian McCook was actually the kindest person that she had ever met, and he loved his Brian like there were no other human being all over the world that worth more than him and every single thing that could give them a couple of minutes together.

The both of them started jogging, trying to keep themselves calmed, but as soon as they came close, Katya jumped into Trixie’s arms, and gave her a hungry and deep kiss, that were interrupted by Sharon’s raspy voice.

“Excuse me ladies, but if you want to make it to the show tonight without getting jailed, you should stop making out that way”.

“C’mon bitch, I haven’t seen my Bri for three tortuous miserable weeks, let me kiss my man while I can” Katya answered, making that whiny voice that Trixie loved so much.

Trixie kissed Katya’s forehead , and both of them smiled goofily at each other, maybe they couldn’t find if they wanted to live in Boston or LA, maybe they could spend most of their nights together spooning, like the first time they got official… maybe they were just a complicated set of lovey doveys, but they loved each other with everything they were.

Back in time, in the months that followed the crowning party, they agreed on being low profile about their relationship, but as it’s well known, love and money are the most difficult things to hide, and both of them were maybe the worst liars over the world, so the next morning when everyone was about to say their goodbyes, all their drag queen sisters, actually knew that they were together, and even when Katya tried to deny it, she fell under her own anxiety, and were caught by Max being kissed by Trixie on her room’s door.

They didn’t care a lot of their pointless discussions about the advantages of moving to LA or Boston, or if they were into dog adoption, they were happy with being together and as Katya always said to Trixie when she was about to lose it, “one step a day”.

“Wherever my love is written

For you only you is right to know”

Violet was almost shaking when Pearl finally came through the arrivals gate, all in black with a grey beanie and her black framed glasses; they locked gazes immediately, like if the gravitational forces of the earth made them impossible for the both of them to find each other in less than a second.

Pearl gave a shy smile, while Violet sighed losing her breath at the time she saw the other queen smiling: Violet always loved that little goofy smile of her. Pearl just sped up to Violet, even ignoring that “Sleepy Nerdist” thing that Violet was holding and as far as she got close to her, ended straight over between the knees of the both of them when they finally hugged tightly.

It has been almost a year since the last time they saw each other out of drag, almost a year since the last time they were that close. A couple of weeks after the crowning party, all the commitments and bookings were too much, and as much they craved each other, Pearl made the decision of letting Violet go, the last night they shared, there was rage, pain, lust and two broken hearts.

When Violet felt Pearl’s body against hers, couldn’t help to shiver at those last memories of them together, they had the worst discussion they’ve ever had and were getting it solved the only way they understand very well: angry sex. While Matt was on top of her, Jason saw the hurt on Matt’s eyes, the loneliness and the worst of all the things she had ever seen on those beautiful blue eyes: defeating, so he understood that Matt wouldn’t be able to go through that year without ending attempting to kill them both or to break up in a way worst than Sharon and Alaska’s, and he couldn’t bear that; so she decided to let him go.

They said their goodbyes with the promise of being faithful to each other as much as they could and to talk about all of that whenever they felt ready to do it. Pearl was in Mexico City when her cell phone rang, showing Violet’s face on the screen, they didn’t spoke a lot, one single ‘I love you’ and one single ‘I do love you either’ was more than enough to meet at Austin few months later.

“You’re back, Boo”, Violet whispered at Pearl’s ear, all shaky and barely containing all the emotions overwhelming her.

“Gigs apart, it’s been almost a year Pumpkin… we still need to talk” said Pearl, landing her hand over Violet’s lower back.

Few seconds later, Violet broke the embrace just to look straight to Pearl’s eyes, she thought that her memory didn’t pay a fair tribute to the clear beauty of those pale blue eyes, a single tear slid down Violet’s cheek, a single tear that was wiped with the tip of Pearl’s nose, attempting to get out of that tension, she said in a low voice “are we going to take this from where it was the last time, baby?”.

“If we take this from where it stood the last time, honey you’ll have to fuck me on some hidden spot of this airport… and I don’t think that it will go anyway good as we should be caught”, then she greeted Matt with that secret smile, that they both knew as the prelude of a great night of sex.

“Better to take it from the scratch… nice to meet you, I’m Matt, and you are?” Pearl teased Violet, who changed the sassy smile for an amazed expression, to finally give her a sweet appreciative look and a flattery smile.

“I’m Jason, pleased to meet you and I’m sorry if this is too forward… but you’re really hot”, Violet cupped Pearl’s cheek with one hand, and the both of them started laughing, to finally kiss each other’s lips.

“Ok lovey doveys, time to go back to the hotel, it’s not that I really care, but almost all of you have a gig to perform and entertain my tiny butt and the Plastic Whore’s” Alaska announced, breaking the moment between them “so come on, bring those asses to the parking lot, and get the hell out of here”.

Violet took Pearl’s free hand on hers, and started walking with her, following Ivy and Jinkx to the parking lot, she tightened the grip, making sure that was Pearl’s hand what she was holding, and Pearl looked at her by the corner of her eye “but… we still have to talk”, she remarked

“However you want girl… I’m done with this let’s give it time, space and some land in between… I’m done being away for you”, Violet said making herself a statement.

“Please follow straight the way that will lead you

To read me deep inside cause I love you.”

As all the eight of them walked out from the Airport, in a very unique way, they found that one night can change everything not just for being a night, but for being the open door to choose within the comfortable safe side, or to give a leap of faith and start believing in US, instead or Me, You or We.

“I used to call you my treasure

But now you’re my new religion

Because I feel just the same for you.”

#saiphl #pearlet #trixya #shalaska #jivy #angst #fluff #pearl liaison #violet chachki #jinkx monsoon #ivy winters #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #romance #season 7 timeline #rpdr fanfiction #canon compliant #we've got tonite

8 notes · View notes

goddamnedamericanjedi · 7 years

Text

Sebastian Bach remembers Dimebag Darrell

My relationship to this sick series of events goes way back, some 18 years. I joined a band from Detroit called MADAM X back in 1986 and the very first place I ever played on the road, outside of Detroit, was the Alrosa Villa nightclub in Columbus, Ohio. This is my first memory of touring in America. I vividly remember staying at the Red Roof Inn down the street and then rocking the Alrosa . I was 17 at the time and was living my dream of touring the United States, and the Al Rosa Villa was the very first stage I ever set foot on being on the road in the USA. The very first time I ever heard of Dimebag Darrell was way back in late 1986 or early 1987. As the MADAM X tour progressed across America, we played in Ft. Worth Texas at a place called Savvy's, a club legendary for separating the of-age & not-of-age by a chain-link fence, just like in the BLUES BROTHERS. Yes, bottles were whipped and smashed into the fence nightly at this place. We were just about to go on stage when Godzilla, the bass player for MADAM X, ran back into the dressing room, seven foot tall with hair that literally touched the ceiling, as he screamed into the room, 'Dude guess what!!! Fucking PANTERA is here tonight watching the show!! They are all sitting at a table right in front of the stage, I can't fucking believe this!!!' The reason for his excitement was simple. Already, even with their previous lead singer, PANTERA was legendary on the club circuit in the southern states. Even then, almost 20 years ago, Dimebag's innovative guitar playing and showmanship was already the standard to which other guitar players were to be measured. They already had a sizable fan base and reputation as one of the best metal bands you could ever see on a stage. We were extremely excited and honored to jam for this bunch of highly respected musicians. Little did I know at the time what was in store in the future for myself, and the band PANTERA, and how our lives would intertwine in the years to come. The next time I encountered Dime was in my old guitar player Scotti Hill's house.We were writing the song 'Mudkicker' for our forthcoming record. At the time, we were in one of the biggest bands in the world. We had already begun to headline arenas on our own on our first record and we were planning our first USA headline arena tour at the time. The material we were writing for 'Slave to the Grind' was a lot heavier than our first album and we wanted to take out the heaviest, coolest band on the road that we could find. I remember Scotti pulling out 'Cowboys From Hell' at his house on a songwriting break. He said, 'Dude, check out this band, I really dig them,' and that's when I checked out the album sleeve, as he put it on the stereo. Loud. I immediately remembered the band from the MADAM X days, but I had never listened to them before. I couldn't believe my ears. As the opening guitar riff to 'Cowboys From Hell' came out of the speakers, I knew we had found the band we were looking for to come on tour with us. This was like a new kind of JUDAS PRIEST meets ZZ TOP meets VAN HALEN divided by SLAYER equals its own kind of thing. I remember cranking the album and smiling to myself, 'I cannot wait to help introduce this fucking band to North America!' I knew they were gonna blow up huge as soon as the public at large got a chance to feel their power. So we made the decision. SKID ROW was going to bring PANTERA on their first North American arena tour. I remember the first show like it was yesterday. It was New Years Eve '91/'92 in New Orleans, at this arena that was completely circular and I remember watching PANTERA kick ass for the first time that night. As a metalhead first and foremost myself, it was an absolute dream to stand on the side of the stage every night witnessing PANTERA's rise to fame, night after night, city after city. To have those crazy fuckers as my friends was something I will never forget. Everyone knows about the 'lust for life' that was a legendary part of Dimebag's life. Well, let me say that anyone who was there can attest to the fact that we set the fucking standard for 'living it up' on the SKID ROW / PANTERA tour. Tony Wiggins, the bus driver turned backstage legend of MARILYN MANSON fame and PANTERA lore, got his start in this business how? By being Sebastian Bach's personal driver. Tony was my bus driver on the 'Slave' tour and spent every night driving me across the USA, many times with Phil Anselmo, or my road crew, or other crazy freaks 'unwinding' with me on the way to the next city. To read about Tony's exploits in the MARILYN MANSON book makes me feel like a proud papa. Big Val Bichekas; PANTERA, ALICE IN CHAINS, and now Ozzy's personal security guard? The first job Big Val ever had in rock 'n' roll was — you guessed it — Sebastian Bach's personal security guard. Val met PANTERA on the 'Slave' tour and when Ozzy was looking for personal security, Sharon asked Big Val, 'Who have you done security for?' He answered, 'Sebastian Bach was my first. PANTERA was second.' Ozzy hired him right away, and has employed him ever since. I don't know why his resume says so much to others about his experience! Well, if you ever partied with Dimebag you would know why. The SKID ROW / PANTERA tour. So much to say, a lot that can't be remembered. But due to video tape a lot of these insane moments still exist on tape. Dimebag was pretty much always, or 90 percent of the time that I was with him, with a video camera in hand. Three nights ago I watched 'Vulgar Video' for the first time in over 10 years, and I was astonished to find the full version of both bands doing 'Cold Gin' on there, PANTERA in complete KISS garb. Wow. Also the PANTERA / SKID ROW baseball game — a direct example of Dimebag's hilarious prankster personality at work. What actually happened that day was SKID ROW completely destroyed PANTERA on the baseball field, by at least 20 runs, which wasn't hard because they were all sporting the Black Tooth Grin by early afternoon! Hey it was a day off! But when I played 'Vulgar Video' for the first time I remember holding my head in my hands, laughing, due to some major Dimebag digital editing magic!! The baseball segment on the video shows PANTERA kicking the shit out of SKID ROW, 33 - 8, saved for posterity on the shelf of your local Sam Goody's, for all time, all over the world. Unbelievable. Devious. Funny as shit. Some of the best times of our lives. Denver Colorado. Dimebag is running around the arena with his video camera, as usual. On the road now for a couple of months, my throat feels kind of tight and we have a 'rock doctor' in house to check out my pipes. Dimebag runs up to me in the hallway and screams 'DUUUUUUUUUUUDE, what the fuck, are you seeing the Dr. or what? What the fuck?' with his vidcam omnipresent. I tell him 'Yes, I am on my way up the hall to see the doc.' Dimebag: 'CAN I FILM IT?' Me laughing, 'Sure, dude, knock yerself out!' What a nut! So we get to the Dr., who sits me down on the table and gets his stethoscope and selection of mirrors out to stick down my throat. But as he goes to shove this long mirror thing down my neck, there is one thing in the way — Dimebag Darrell. 'DUDE, HOLY SHIT, MAN, YOU GOTS-TA SEE THIS!! I have your complete vocal cords, close-up, on video.' I am sitting there with my head tilted all the way back, mouth open as wide as it can go with a Dr. shoving a mirror into me on one side, with Dimebag Darrell shoving his camera down my throat on the other side. The Dr. says, 'OK, Sebastian say aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh,' and as I do so, Dime screams out, 'Dude, that shit is TIGHT!! I got your chords on close-up it looks fuckin' wild!' He was focusing his camera right on the mirror that the Dr. was using to look at my vocal chords. Every gag, choke, and cough that I did that day was captured by Dime on film. That was Dimebag. Taking a mundane event and turning it into something fun, worth rockumenting, making a cool little memory of something you would otherwise never remember. I have 'seize the day' tattooed on my arm in Latin. Dimebag Darrell seized every day like there was no tomorrow. No matter how hung over he was! Also on 'Vulgar Video' is the shot of PANTERA having a fucking bar-b-q, right in front of the stage while we were doing our show! My memory of that night, in Hannibal, Missouri (I think) was watching Dimebag on his side of the stage open the show. Right when they got to the ending of 'Domination', one of my favorite songs, as they go into that crushing half-time riff at the end, I remember banging my head as hard as I could but not looking around the backstage, and by mistake slamming my head straight into the side fill, as Dimebag ripped out that riff. I saw stars and felt a knot rise up on my skull the size of a bowling ball. I though I might have a concussion or something, but fuck it, we never canceled a show that whole tour and weren't gonna. So I chilled till we went on stage, kinda dizzy. Then as I was on-stage I look into the first row. Before that there was a good 15 feet of sand, we were playing an outdoor show on some sort of beach. In front of the barricade in the 'pit' was Dimebag Darrell, the rest of PANTERA, and my wife Maria all sitting around ........ a bar-b-q!!! Dimebag and Phil were actually cooking hot-dogs and pouring Tequila shots and handing them out to the audience, crew, and band on stage as well! I thought i might be hallucinating because of smashing my head during PANTERA's set, but no. There I am singing '18 & Life' as Dimebag squirts ketchup and mustard all over his beef frank, and as I get into the song I look out at Dime looking straight into my eyes offering me a hot dog mouthing the words, 'Duuuuuuuude! You want a bite of this delicious wiener bro, c'mon!!!' as everyone is laughing their guts out and my wife is next to Dimebag doing shots of tequila and having potato salad. Then in 'Youth Gone Wild', in the drum breakdown, seeing the whole crowd singing the words, holding up, in unison, ...... hot dogs! Thanks Dime, I do remember they tasted good!!!! My wife got along great with Dime. I can't remember where, some bar in the USA, but Rita, Dime's girl, was there, wearing John Lennon style rose-tinted round mirrored glasses, only with a pot leaf design on each eye. She gave me the shades as a present at the end of the night, which was very cool. During this night, Maria, my wife, had a drinking contest with Dimebag. There is some dispute as to what happened next. I remember Maria and Dime doing 33 shots of Tequila — between them both. Maria, however, seriously remembers — and do not try this at home — her and Dimebag both — doing 33 shots of tequila, each! I think this is physically impossible, but this was over the course of a full evening, and our tolerance was way up back then, so while I hope I am right and Maria is wrong about this, I must admit that if anyone could do this it would have to be Dimebag Darrell!!!! 'Getcha Pull' indeed!!!!! All this mayhem was not without consequence. When we all checked into the hotel in Philadelphia (I think), I had my own bus with Tony Wiggins and Big Val. Someone called my big clunky cellphone (a rarity in those days) and informed our bus that we would not be checking into the hotel that we were on our way to. Both bands had been kicked out of the hotel before I got there. The story I got was that Snake and Dimebag each did a tab of fucking acid, and as the tour managers were checking into the hotel, Dimebag took a knife to one of the leather couches in the hotel lobby, ripping it to shreds and getting both bands permanently banned from the premises! A lot of crazy shit went down in those days and a story like this was just par for the course on this tour. A month or so into the tour, PANTERA released 'A Vulgar Display Of Power'. Prior to this, the band was touring with us without a new album to support. But when 'Vulgar' came out after touring the USA with us for a month or so, the album came straight into the Billboard charts in the top 40 and remains to this day one of the greatest albums of all time. The day after it came into the charts, we were playing Vancouver BC at the PNE and Phil walked straight into our dressing room, 'Hey Bierk. I want a leather couch, full lights, full stage, sound check, blah blah blah.' He was joking around with a list of demands due to the 'new level' that he was now on. It was hilarious and we were all laughing but the point was made. PANTERA was now a big fucking band and from here on out, it was nothing but onward and upward for PANTERA. Dimebag had a 4-track recorder on the road with him at the time. I can remember many nights in his hotel room, getting drunk & recording songs. One particular highlight was Dimebag's version of 'Slave To The Grind' that he recorded on his own, re-titled 'Krell & Dykes'. 'KRELL & DYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYKES' went the chorus. Most of you know what dykes are, maybe some of you know what krell is, but Dime made a version of 'Slave To The Grind' with lyrics describing these two areas of interest on this particular tour that was truly a moment in music I wish you all could hear! He gave me a tape of it over 10 years ago, I hope I still have it. If you don't know what krell is, I am not going to tell you! But for those of you with a nose for this kind of thing, I hope one day I can find my copy of Dimebag Darrell's 'Krell & Dykes' and when I do I will post it on the net if it is not too incriminating!! We also had one night where I sang a ballad of Dime's into the 4-track as the sun was coming up. We were so drunk I couldn't stop laughing and Dime too, I just remember him saying 'C'mon, Bierk!!! I KNOW you can do it!!!' But both of us were so drunk I remember more laughing than singing going on that night. Still I know we did at least three tracks of vocals, harmonies and doubling etc., even at 7-8 am with 12 hours of drinking in us, Dime was ready to do what he did best — create rock'n'roll music like you never heard before. After the SKID ROW / PANTERA tour, my next major involvement with Dimebag was a band that we formed together. Named 'SEBASTIAN BACH'S ROCK BUDS', we started the band after I was asked by High Times magazine to play at a benefit in Manhattan at the Limelight. All proceeds would go to the National Organization for the Reformation of Marijuana Laws (NORML). I thought this was a cool idea and they said I could play with whoever I wanted. So, first on my list was Dimebag Darrell. I called him up and he said 'Sure dude. Name the time & place and I will be there! Let's get Rex on bass!' So Rex Brown joined up, along with Bam Bam McConnell on drums and Snake on guitar. Andy McCoy from HANOI ROCKS also came up for a tune, although Dimebag refused to jam with him! The majority of the set was SKID / PANTERA; we did 'Slave', 'New Level', 'Walk', 'Monkey Business', and 'Cowboys From Hell', I think. I have this show on video in perfect condition and it is obviously something I treasure now. Dimebag came up 2 or 3 days before the show and stayed at my house. Rex stayed at Snake's. We rehearsed for the gig at SIR in Manhattan. I remember rehearsing for the gig in 'rehearsal mode', which was doing the songs but not putting alot of sweat into it. Dimebag said to everyone, 'What the fuck is this? Where is the sweat? The fire?' I said to him something lame like, 'Oh, it's just rehearsal dude.You wanna rehearse like we are actually on stage, that's cool.' Dime shot back at me 'IS THERE ANY OTHER FUCKING WAY???' I will never forget him saying that. I totally understood what he was saying and ever since then there is no 'rehearsal mode / stage mode' bullshit. Dime did it full out all the time: 'IS THERE ANY OTHER FUCKING WAY???' Not for Dimebag Darrell. Dimebag was also one of the most of the professional persons in the business. Yes he could out drink you under the table and into the gutter, but he also firmly believed that there was a time and a place for everything. We were all doing all sorts of shit back then, but I can remember Dimebag pulling me aside somewhere saying, dude, you 'wake & bake' don't ya? C'mon, I know ya do. I used to do that shit myself. Have a bong right next to the bed, and hit that shit as soon as I fucking woke up. But I learned you cannot do that shit dude! For real! You get a fax or a phone call or something and you are too high to deal with that shit!! That shit is not good dude!!' The fact that he would pull a friend of his aside to try and help them if he thought they needed it was a testament to the fact that Dimebag cared about others. You hear a lot about how much the man loved to party, but I also remember him being strict about putting things in their proper place. Having his shit together at all times was ultimately way more important to Dimebag than just being shitfaced 24/7. The man could not create the music he did or put on the shows he did without being at the top of his game at all times, which Dimebag always was. 1998. I am on my very first tour of the USA as a solo artist. We are playing Pittsburgh PA at a place called Graffiti's. I get the message, PANTERA is coming to the show tonight! This is totally cool, I am on the road trying to re-establish myself & here come some of my old buds to cheer me on. Shit doesn't get any better than this. But wait... it does! Vinnie Paul shows up at the gig and gets pretty drunk, big surprise! Then he comes on stage at the end of the set and grabs the mike and screams 'Hey Pittsburgh!!! This motherfucker took us on our first ever arena tour of the USA!!!' Big cheer. Then he says something totally unexpected. 'And we are gonna take this motherfucker on his first fucking arena tour!!!!!!!!!!!' The place goes nuts. I look at my bandmates and we all look at each other in disbelief. I start to laugh, because I don't know whether it is Vinnie talking, or the vats of Crown Royal he has consumed over the evening. For me to go on tour in arenas in my solo band in the USA was a big fucking deal. We had no record out or even a label at that time. The only reason for PANTERA to take us on the road was simple — rock & roll, and a friendship that went far beyond normal music business corporate sensibilities. When I got back home, I could not believe my eyes. Right there in the fax machine, as I walked in the front door, was a fax from PANTERA's booking agent with three weeks of arena shows in the USA that they wanted my solo band to open! Vinnie told me that he told Dimebag about seeing us in Pittsburgh, and Dime said 'Let's bring that fucker out!' as a kind of 'thanks' for us bringing them out in 1992. I will never, ever forget this act of generosity on the part of PANTERA. For a band to ignore to industry to the point that PANTERA did is something that I doubt we will ever see again. To put me on stage in front of 20,000 people a night in 1998, like I did for them in 1992, is one of the highlights of my life. On the road with me at the time was Jimmy Flemion of THE FROGS on guitar. He made THE DARKNESS look like Perry Como in the stage costume department. Jimmy would come on-stage in full 7-foot green sequin wings, making him look like a giant, which accentuated his frame — the man stands 6' 6" tall with ease. To go out on-stage every night looking like a heavy metal Liberace in front of PANTERA, the most hardcore fucking audience you could ever play for, took gonads of steel. The last night of the tour, in Dayton Ohio @ Hare Arena, I turn around and what do I see? Dimebag Darrell, in his own custom made full 7-foot green paper mache wings, flying around the stage looking like Mothra on acid. He had spent all day backstage making his own set of Flemion wings, then rocked along side us in a paper mache 7-foot wingspan. I read that the shooter, who shall remain nameless, attended this exact show in 1998, in Dayton, Ohio. That makes me sick. To know one of the most fun nights in my life was actually shared with this scumbag watching us blows my mind. It is hard to think about. Also, what is it about Columbus? Not only was it the first place I ever played on the road, it is the exact city where my run as Jesus in 'Jesus Christ Superstar' came to an unexpected end. I also talked to Rick, the owner of the Alrosa, on a cellphone the night before the play ended. Things seem to start and end in Columbus. Weird, but perhaps worth mentioning. After we left the PANTERA tour in '98 Dimebag still kept in touch. When we played Dallas in a club in the Deep Ellum district, I turn around backstage before the show & who is standing there in the (cramped) quarters but none other than Dimebag Darrell! He has brought along Dave Williams, the late lead singer for DROWNING POOL, two PANTERA crew dudes, and 3 or 4 members of the Dallas Stars hockey team. Everyone is doing shots (trying something new!) and me and Dime are catching up before the show. He asks me if it's ok if he films the show. 'Sure', I say. Then halfway through the show, Dave Williams comes onstage and rips right into his famous 'Sebastian Bach impression!' This dude had me down better than I do myself! Dimebag was the camera man, on his back onstage filming me doing me, and Dave Williams doing me, together onstage, running between our legs and jumping around trying to get the best shot. We had a kickass time that night and Dime told me the band fucking rocked. I remember him really checking us out and giving me opinions etc. after the show. The man cared, plain and simple. Around 1999 I was called by producer and friend Michael Wagener to record some songs for an upcoming Randy Rhoads tribute album. He told me to contact guitarist friends of mine to see if they wanted to participate. Again, Dimebag Darrell was at the top of my list. We called him up and I got him on the horn and he was totally into the project. We collaborated on the song 'Believer' and it is one of the most treasured moments of my career in the studio. Dimebag's lead totally shreds, of course! I am just glad I got to record at least one song with the best metal guitar player of all time. Wish I could have done more! Dimebag was also not afraid, ever, to tell it like it is. I remember being at his club in Dallas, one night after a show. He was rolling his eyes at me, drunk, like he wanted to tell me something. Finally at the end of the night, I said to him 'Dude what up? You wanna tell me something?' He kept rolling his eyes and then said to me — loud — 'Duuuuuuuuuuude, you know why people talk shit behind your back dude? Because they don't fucking understand you!' I could tell he thought this was important to tell me. 'But you know what, mutherfucker? I am so crazy that I UNDERSTAND YOU! Yes I fucking do! FFFuuccckk!!!!! I UNDERSTAND your crazy ass, man!!!!' He slobbered into my face. But I could tell he meant what he said. He was telling me that he was so nuts that he actually even understood me, which was a backhanded way of telling me he dug what I did and for me to keep on doing it. He was a smart guy and said alot of heavy things amidst an insane world of rock'n'roll fantasy. As someone whom I respected as a fan, and as a friend, it meant a lot to me for him to say shit like that to me. Which is why I always cranked his music to get psyched for a show. Two days before he died, we were playing Istanbul, Turkey for the first time. After the show, we had a six-hour drive to the next town, Ankara, Turkey, where we had a gig on December 8 (Ralph Santolla's birthday, and the night Darrell and John Lennon were killed). On the way to the show, at about four in the morning, we stopped by the side of the road to get gas and something to eat. Unbelievably, they had about 30 cassettes for sale. One of these cassettes, on the side of the road in Turkey, was PANTERA's 'Far Beyond Driven'. This was crazy we thought, 'Holy Shit' we all exclaimed, 'They sell fucking PANTERA cassettes on the side of the road in Turkey, how crazy is that!!' In retrospect, it is quite strange that PANTERA was there in amongst mostly Turkish music cassettes. Needless to say we bought the tape and played it on repeat till we got to Ankara at around 8 am. I remember drifting off to sleep looking outside the window looking at the Turkish countryside, listening to 'Becoming' thinking how fucking cool Dimebag's guitar sounded. 24 hours later, he would no longer be alive on this planet. It still makes no sense... My favorite Dimebag Darrell memory of all was when he was staying at my house for the 'Rock Buds' gig. It was late morning in my house and I was awoken by the delicious smell of bacon being cooked downstairs. I got out of bed to go find Dimebag and wake him up. I went downstairs, and then to his guest room, but I could not find Dimebag. On my way back downstairs to the kitchen, I peeked my head into my son Paris' room, who was about 7 at the time. There was Dimebag Darrell, sitting in a little kids' toy chair, playing my son's miniature Gibson guitar, which was plugged into his mini Marshall Stack! 'Hey, Dime' I said, 'Dude, c'mon downstairs, breakfast is ready bro!! Maria made french toast and bacon let's get it on!!!!!!!' Dimebag said to me, 'Hold up, bro!! I am doing something here, hold it up! Hang on one second I am teaching your boy somethin'!!' He had been in my sons room showing him guitar riffs all morning. He thought this was an important thing to do, and the memory of Dimebag sitting in my kids room showing him guitar chords is etched in my mind forever. We all went downstairs, me, Dime, and Paris, and along with Maria, we enjoyed a home cooked breakfast of french toast, maple syrup, bacon and coffee. He loved the meal and let us all know how much he appreciated our hospitality. I remember it like yesterday. Because even though he was the greatest metal guitar player ever, he was also something even more important and impressive than that: a great human being. Someone you would be proud to have at your dinner table. Someone you could trust with your own children. That was Dimebag Darrell. A classy, talented, one-of-a-kind guy with 'Hulk Blood' and the Ace Frehley solo album cover tattooed on his flesh. A friend. A God. Stronger Than All. I Remember You Dimebag Darrell! You are an inspiration to me the rest of my life. Love and Respect, Sebastian Bach

#The Bazmanian Devil #Skid row #Pantera #Dimebag #Darrell #people think Baz is an idiot because he parties hard and is loud #and pretty as all get out #but he's capable of being well-spoken and insightful #I thought this about his book #too #surprisingly vulnerable and tender for a self-professed dick #long post

30 notes · View notes

waywardimpalawriter · 7 years

Text

Was supposed to be one summer night

Was just supposed to be a summer nights

Summary: One hot summer night just might lead to more than Sam thought it would.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Setting: from middle of season 2 to present

Characters: Sam, Reader

Word count: 3,077 (with lyrics)

Warnings: none just fluffy goodness.

Notes: Notes: written for the Album Challenge by @mrs-squirrel-chester. I chose Rascal Flatts Unstoppable. The song is Summer nights as well.

Forever:

@winters-buck

@angryschnauzer

@marvel-lucy

@feelmyroarrrr

@aquabrie

@fandommaniacx

@thetalesofmooseandsquirrel

@supernaturallymarvellous

Supernatural:

@smoothdogsgirl

@spnfanficpond

@aprofoundbondwithdean

2007

Sweat dripped down his strong back making the dark green cotton fabric stick to his skin, navy and cream plaid shed early on in this Texas heat. Curses slipping from his lips knowing he should’ve just had Dean drop him back at the motel before he took off. But no he opted to walk back thinking it’d do him some good, if the mid July heat didn’t have him tipping over with a stroke first. Even in this half empty bar, the air conditioning is doing little to keep up with the heat.

The case finished, simple werewolf needing to be put down and only one this time, getting lucky with only scratches, a few bruises and Dean’s busted lip to show from the fight. In celebration they’d hit the local dive bar, where of course Dean linked up with some busty red head leaving Sam alone and fending for himself. Not for the first time wishing for a cold shower and soft bed to rest his weary body. Why he’d wanted to remain sitting here, he’s not sure though it might have something to do with the shy beauty sitting at a table in the corner.

“Mind if I sit?” came your sweet, soft voice from beside him.

Glancing over, his eyes landing on you a shy smile gracing your lips two beers in hand, making Sam wonder when you’d gotten up, not that he’d been watching of course. “Seat’s free.”

“Thanks,” sliding into the booth, handing him the long neck. “I normally don’t do this kinda thing, but I saw you sitting here alone and worked up the courage to come say hi and brought libations.” Realizing you’re babbling, a soft pink blush graced your cheeks, eyes glancing down at your own long neck, peeling the sticker off slowly. Having seen him around town a few times, making you wonder what brought him to this small town.

Something about you has Sam giving you his full attention, “I’m Sam by the way.”

Taking a few seconds, you finally look up into his amazing hazel eyes blush still in place even as you extend you hand. “Y/N, it’s a pleasure.”

Accepting the hand in his large warm palm giving a firm shake and half squeeze before letting go, intrigued by the fact that you’ve come even as he sees you’re nervous. Maybe staying back wasn’t such a bad idea after all if it meant getting to know a beautiful woman.

“You in town for business, family?” you inquire before taken a slow sip of your beer, unconsciously licking your lips that capture Sam’s attention for a moment.

Unsure of how to answer, Dean’s always better with coming up with these stories, “Ah business, my partner and I were investigating the murders.” Part truth, he just hoped you didn’t ask more than that.

Eyes wide, nibbling your bottom lip, “I heard and read about them, so sad what happened.” Dipping your head, focus back on your bottle. “Those actually were some of the first murders this town’s had in a long time. My dad, use to be the sheriff some years back, kept order pretty well, plus it helps we’re just a one horse town.”

“He retire?”

Shaking your head, H/C hair brushing around your bare shoulders, one hand moving up to fiddle with the thin strap of your baby blue tank top, “No he uh, he passed away two years before retirement.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam offered feeling a touch uncomfortable with your admission. Memories of his own father flashing through his mind, “It’s never easy losing a parent.”

Nodding, hearing the catch in his throat that makes you raise you head again, seeing him staring at you, “Yeah my dad taught me a lot, much to my mom’s disappointment, I became a daddy’s girl,” pride shining in those E/C eyes.

“Same,” he thinks for a second hearing your musical laughter makes him blush lightly knowing he’s messed up. “I mean not the daughter part natural, but learning things from my dad,” grinning Sam took a long pull from his beer scanning the bar one more time, out of habit he’s always done when in public places.

Picking up on what you think is nervousness, but in reality is watchfulness for the fact that he keeps looking around, “I never asked if you’re waiting on your girlfriend or your partner. I can go if…”

Shaking his head, finding your shyness refreshing and sweet, “Neither of those Y/N just second nature to look around, keep my eyes open in case of trouble yeah know.”

Settling back into the booth your nerves returning to normal as you nod. Though there’s a pounding in your rib cage with being so close to the male model sitting opposite you that concerns you a bit. You’ve rarely been so forwards, well forward for you that is, mostly keeping to yourself and everyone else out especially after your father’s death. But there’s something about him that’s drawn you in. Maybe it’s the soulful hazel eyes, or his soft looking just below the ears brown hair, truthfully the whole package is what drew you over though his attention and demeanor is what’s kept you rooted in your spot.

“Tell me about your dad?” elbows on the table, head resting on your open palm, interest being peeked. “That is of course if you want to.”

For a short while Sam’s quiet unsure of how to begin, “I didn’t always see eye to eye with my dad.”

“Butted heads did ya?”

Nodding, fond smile sliding over those full lips, “I wanted something different than he did. A different life outside the family business, a normal life, he thought I was abandoning him and my brother.”

“You weren’t,” you interjected earning a puzzled look from Sam so you explain. “My mom wanted me to be this meek little woman who cooked, cleaned and took care of my future husband. But I never saw myself doing that not right away. I wanted to leave this town and find myself.”

“Sounds like we have more in common than our taste in beer,” Sam remarked leaning forward, arms crossed on the aged and chipped hard wood table.

Shy smile gracing your lips before you nibble on the bottom one, “What happened between you and your dad?”

“We didn’t speak for almost three years,” eyes dropped towards the table, a slice of shame and pain rocketing across his features. “He went missing, my brother and I looked for him but just after finding him we lost dad for good.”

Reaching over to place a hand on Sam’s forearm, giving a light squeeze, “I’m so sorry Sam.”

Shaking his head, warmth spreading out from where your hand rests, “It’s okay, I’ve made peace with what happened, besides you can’t change the past no matter how much you want to.”

“Still I know it hurts, to lose someone you love it takes a piece of you with them,” your eyes mist remembering your own dad’s passing.

Seeing the change in your demeanor, he wanted to get your mind off things or hoped it would, “What happened between you and your mom?”

Glancing up, removing your hand to wipe at your eyes, “Dad persuaded her to let me go to college. I got to see a little bit of the world, well Austin anyway and a few trips to Mexico with friends.”

“You came back?”

Nodding fond smile back in place, “Yeah I found that I missed this town, its people and my family. Not that I don’t travel when work allows but this is home.”

“Wish I knew what that felt like.”

Head cocked to one side, “Tracking the bad guys keeps you on the road a lot?”

“You could say that,” offering you a soft grin one that makes your stomach flip flop.

“You wanna get outta here?” you hear yourself ask, before you can stop the flow of words.

He’d chosen to take a drink when you’d asked, so shocked Sam damn near snorted the beer coughing harshly to get it from his lungs. Surprise didn’t even cover what he’s feeling. Granted many women have asked, propositioned and even begged though there’s something different with how you’ve offered.

“Forget I asked,” nervous chuckle leaving your lips as you take the last sip of your now warm beer.

“Yeah, I would,” he nods surprising the both of you.

It's summer nights! Yeah,

Come on ladies It's time to pop that top And fellas, I know you're ready to rock We went crazy cooped all winter long And school is out, so let's get it on Flip flop tans and some white sand I know the perfect spot

Grinning, “I know this prefect little spot,” sliding out the booth you wait for Sam to join you. “You wouldn’t happen to have a swim suit with you?”

“What you see is what I got,” he answered fishing his wallet out of his back pocket, but your hand lands on his arm stopping him.

“I got ya covered Sam both with the beer and a suit,” sliding your hand down so your fingers intertwined tugging him behind you. Feeling like a school girl all over again, except this time you get to spend it with the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

Once outside, you navigate the two of you towards your old Dodge truck, only separating long enough for the two of you to get in and to peel out.

“Where we headed?”

“Secret,” glancing over at him, tossing a wink his way, shocked by your own bold actions.

Chuckling, “You know it’s a federal offence to kidnap an officer of the law?”

“But I’m not kidnapping per say,” you answer turning off of main street heading south for ten miles or so, before making another turn onto a dirt road.

“Taking me somewhere private to have your way with me?”

Root deep blush covers your cheeks, tips of your ears, evening air helping to cool the heat, as your eyes stay on the road ahead moving slowly to miss the bigger pot holes. “I could turn around?”

Shaking his head, enjoying this little adventure, and your blush as curiosity gets the better of him. “Nope I’m good, though I do have one little condition if you plan to seduce me,” slight chuckle leaving his lips.

“Oh?” brow rose as you peek over at him, golden sunlight filling the truck cabin. For a moment you’re speechless, caught by how handsome he looks in just a shirt and jeans highlighted by those soft rays.

Glancing to catch you staring before your eyes return to the road, “I get to seduce you.”

Breath caught in your throat, along with any words you’d say, rubbing your tights together for a little friction. Trying to come up with sassy remark but finding there’s nothing you could answer with. “We’re here,” your exclamation a little high pitched with nerves.

Pulling to a stop, your hoping out and heading towards the door of a small cabin while Sam hangs back just looking around. Soft sounds of water lapping at the ground meet his ears, eyes trying to find the source but coming up with nothing but tree’s and underbrush.

“You coming Sam,” your question coming from the front door you left open.

A moment of hesitation is swept away when you appear illuminated from behind by the house lights, standing in a dark red and black tankini your curves driving him crazy.

“Ye… yeah,” clearing his throat, while stepping closer breath taking away by the beauty of you. “So swimming?”

Nodding, bottom lip trapped between your teeth, “It’s so hot out. I figured we could cool off a bit. You don’t have to worry we’re not trespassing this is my family’s cabin, not much but I love it out here.”

One hand going to the door jam as Sam leans a little closer. “I hear the water but…”

Softly laughing, “Don’t worry Sam, go change and I’ll show you.” Nodding Sam makes to pass by you brushing against setting tingles to rush across both your bodies. As you step out onto the grass. “I left you swim trunks on the bed. There just spares never been worn.”

Hands behind your back, toes wiggling in the soft grass till a deep voice clears his throat and you look up getting caught in the magnificence of Sam’s tanned, toned body. Secretly pinching yourself, wincing a little for which he catches.

“You alright?” stepping from the cabin and towards you.

Smiles, “Perfectly fine,” turning before you do something stupid, like jump into his arms and kiss him, heading for the small path that leads towards the pond. “Can you swim?”

Scoffing playfully, though touched by the concern he hears in your voice, “Of course.”

“Just checking, don’t need you drowning on me,” you toss back stepping into a clearing, picnic bench to the right, tire swing off to the left. Not waiting for Sam to catch up, you rush towards the water letting it cover and cool your body as you dive in head first.

Oh, oh yeah.

Now fellas, you better watch your step Don't let them teeny french bikinis Make you loose your breath Back to the ladies Ya'll keep doing ya'lls thing Cause everything about you makes me wanna scream

The sun is getting low There it goes, here we go Here comes the moon, yeah Things start getting all heated up When it starts getting cool, yeah

Coming up, flinging your hair back over your head, “Watch where you’re splashing woman,” came Sam’s deep voice close to your position.

“What’d gonna do about it Sam?” hands on hips giving him a playful glare.

Big hands go into the water, scooping, pushing forward to splash you, as he goes forward wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping the two of you into the cool lake water.

Normally scared when someone does that, yet with Sam holding you close all fear is gone replaced by slow burning tendrils of desire coursing through your veins. Arms circling his neck to hold on while eyes close and you borrowing into his chest.

Sputtering as the both of you come up still wrapped around each other, Sam standing at his full height water lapping at his abs while your holding on to him keeping yourself afloat. “That was an evil thing to do,” bright smile on your lips betraying your real feelings on the matter.

Snorting, “I think you enjoyed it,” he shot back taking a few steps back into deeper water.

“You gonna try to drown me?”

“Can’t swim?” he counters repeating your earlier question.

Without thinking about it you wrap your legs around his waist, effectively rubbing your body against his. “I can though I much rather stay here,” bashfully saying then glancing down tracing random patterns on his collarbone.

“I agree,” long, strong fingers cup the side of your face, thumb tipping your chin up so your eyes meet his. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Bottom lip trapped, caught between shock and wanting to smile, “Such a gentleman.”

“If you only knew,” are his only words before capturing your mouth in soft, simple kisses.

Fingers carding through his hair, as heads turn this way and that, till a deep growl leaves Sam’s chest and he’s got one arm wrapped around your waist keeping you close while the other heads to the back of your neck strong fingers lacing through your hair giving a tug making you whimper and his chance. Slipping his questing tongue into your mouth, to mate with yours, taking a deep drink of your savoring the taste slight taste of the beer you had and something sweet.

Never being so forward with a woman, though there’s something about you that he can’t explain, you’re in his blood, which is weird since you’ve only just met.

Air becoming an issue, you pull back resting your foreheads together, “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first moment I laid eyes on you Sam,” voice breathy, as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

“Agreed,” he grins starting to walk towards the shore you still in his arms.

“We getting out already?” playfully pouting not wanting the moment to end so soon.

Cupping your ass in both hands Sam rocks against you letting you feel what you’ve done to him. “Need some place safer and softer for what I have planned for you sweetheart.”

2017

One hand against the window staring out into the dark moonless night, thoughts, troubles and doubts all racing through his mind, till a soft pair of hands found their way around his waist. Hugging him from behind, the side of your head pressed against his back, “What’s wrong Sam?”

“Nothing,” he knows you can tell he’s being less than truthful with you, even after all these years of being together, you knowing the truth of what he truly does, he’s still afraid your gonna walk away. It’s what keeps him up some nights, though it’s not what troubles him tonight.

“Bullshit Samquatch you gonna tell me the truth?” arms still wrapped around his middle now running the long expanse of his chest.

Sighing, turning in your arms to pull you close, “Thinking.”

Shaking your head while looking up into those hypnotic hazel eyes, “About what?”

“About us, how we’ve managed to last this long and you haven’t gotten tired of my ass yet.”

Reaching down, grabbing a health handful of said ass giving him a squeeze, “Well I have grown quite fond of this ass Samuel don’t think I can give it up now.”

Deep chuckles leave his lips that press against your forehead, breathing in the warm scent of your skin and hair. “You remember that summer night in this cabin?”

“How could I forget, it brought me the best thing in my life,” grinning, leaning forward to brush your lips over his jaw towards his ear. “Dean of course,” giggling you pull away quickly heading for the door but strong arms stop you yanking you back into his hold.

“That was mean,” he breathed into your ear, making you shiver.

“Punish me then,” you return arching back against him.

“With pleasure Mrs. Winchester,” he growls picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder and heading towards the bed a sound smack landing on your ass, another summer night of passionate love.

#Album challenge #sam Winchester x reader #Sam x Reader #Sam x You #Sam Winchester fiction #Supernatural fiction #Guppy fic #Rascal Flatts

42 notes · View notes

cass-trash · 7 years

Text

Honey and Rain (Part One)

A/N: I had to post it twice since the Continue reading button wasn’t working for mobile, but hopefully it’s up and running by now.

Warnings: Mild swearing, blood

Next Chapter: Part Two

You had never asked for this to happen to you.

You weren't a believer of God or angels and demons and that sort of stuff. You thought it was all crap. That is, until you were rudely awoken by a pair of muscular arms holding you down, another hand keeping your mouth open while somebody brought a container holding some sort of bright white light towards your face.

The pastoral fragrance filled your nose, practically hitting you in the face with a mixture of honey, pine needles and rain. Was that from the light? No, that's impossible.

You kicked and thrashed against the men's holds, but it was as if they had you tied down. Your arms could barely move an inch. Screaming out for help only seemed to make them angrier, causing one of them to get a few punches into your stomach.

The men shoved the light into your mouth, finally releasing your struggling limbs once you had swallowed it. The light had left a lingering taste of honey behind. Maybe it is possible? Soon after, they vanished into thin air. Did they really vanish into thin air or were you going insane?

Seconds after they had left you could feel a sharp pain running from your head all the way to the bottom of your spine, as if somebody was running a blade deep into your flesh and pouring some sort of burning substance into the wound. Running to the joint bathroom, you stared into the mirror and watched as something black and feathery sprouted from your back. You screamed in pain, wishing your roommate was here to help you, but she had left to Hawaii a week ago. "What the hell!?" You growled.

You fell to the floor on your knees, the cold tiles sending chills up your legs. Your arms being the only limps cooperating with you, keeping you from falling face first into the floor. "Those ba-" You screamed out again, watching something that looked like a wing stretch out from your back. "Bastards!" You yelled.

Ever since that night, you hated angels. You couldn't explain what happened to you and your friends only thought you were insane. After three days of constant talking about wings and weird abilities, they sent you to a physiatric ward. That's when you figured out how to teleport.

A day later, you had orders from angels to protect and watch over a child named Liam. That didn't go as planned. You were supposed to make sure nothing happened to him, he was important. A prophet.

You had found Liam's body hanging from his living room's ceiling fan, his neck purple and bruised from the tight rope and his eyes open with tears. His parents were out on a family business trip to Texas and the babysitter had chosen to not do her job. You remember the horrible smell of expired Chinese food filling the house, the soda cans littered everywhere, but you remembered the look on Liam's lifeless face the most. Complete and utter sadness.

After that, you had enough. You hated angels with a passion. You killed any angel you found, whether they tried to persuade you they "weren't like the others" or not. You hated angels for making you into this monster and forcing you to go through the pain of watching a child's body hang from his own ceiling.

Within days, you killed nearly a decade worth of angels. They had tried to boss you around, giving you complicated orders on who to follow or who to protect, but you eventually blocked them out of your head. Until today.

"Y/n." You heard the familiar voice of the angel that was bossing you around from day one. You still didn't know his name but you decided one for him. Bastard. He never showed his face to you, but that never stopped him from talking to you in your head.

Scowling at his voice, you gripped tighter to the blade in your hands. "What do you want, Bastard?"

He chuckled. "Still have that silly name for me? Anyways...I have your next human's name for you."

"No." You growled. You swore.

"Yes."

"NO." You shouted, placing the blade into the back of your pants and punching the closest wall towards you.

Bastard's voice got deeper. "Yes. You will protect this human, otherwise I will kill your brothers. Do you hear me? I have them in my sights right now, and don't even try to warn them." Fearing you'd never be able to see your brothers again, you agreed.

"Fine." Your voice was strained. Great, just great. Typical, threats from an angel.

"His name is Castiel. His last location was Sunshine Road motel, hurry."

With that, you flew to the motel, forgetting about the angel you were hunting down at the warehouse. They'd probably manage to find you anyways.

Angels only ever asked you to protect humans that were important, or ones they could eventually use for powerful vessels, so what was up with this Castiel guy? Was he supposed to be a vessel?

You glanced around the run-down motel, noticing water stains in the corners of the ceiling. This only has a few years left. Taking a step towards the desk, you stepped on a newspaper lying on the brown patterned carpet. Picking it up, you saw the headline read "Two females dead, hearts missing." You would do anything to go back before you knew what that meant. Warewolfs.

With an uninterested stance, you threw the paper back to the ground and walked to the cream coloured front desk. "Excuse me, has somebody named Castiel checked in here lately?" You walked up to the lady at the front desk. Violet, her name tag read.

She rolled her eyes. "I can't give that information out." Violet loudly chewed on a piece of gum, wishing you could just smite her for being annoying.

"I'm the boss's niece." You sassed back, you didn't have time for this rubbish. "He needs it."

She gave you a questioning look and reached for the phone. "My boss is a woman,"

Without hesitating, you pressed two fingers to her forehead and knocked her unconscious, listening to the satisfying sound of her body falling to the floor. You wiped her memory of this encounter while she was out, before moving behind the desk and looking over the security tapes.

There had been three people that came in last night. Two were obviously a couple, that probably couldn't afford a better motel.

But the third had caught your attention. A scruffy looking man wearing a dark blue hoodie was clutching onto his side. You zoomed in, barely able to recognise the red liquid from the pixelated image on the screen. His knuckles looked as red and bloody as his clothes, you were unsure whether he was the attacker or the victim. In this line of work, he was probably both.

Following the man through the cameras, you found his room. Retracing his steps, you tried to think of a way to introduced yourself to him. Finally reaching the eleventh door on the left, you knocked on the wood and listened closely. Nothing.

You flew yourself inside of his room, too impatient to try the handle. You were being hurried, after all. Bed sheets were messily placed, hanging off the near side towards the window. Looking even closer, a trail of items lead to the window.

A chilly breeze flew into the room, causing the thin fabric hanging above the window to sway back and forth before finally resting once again. Stepping in front of the open window, you placed your hand on the sill, leaning out and taking a look around. He was no where to be found. As your hand retreated back to your side, you felt something different. Exposing your palm upwards, you saw blood smeared across your palm to your fingertips.

"In a rush?" You asked yourself, looking back to the window sill. Blood was smeared across the wood but you could make out a hand print, the white paint peaked out underneath telling you it was beginning to dry.

This was definitely Castiel. You just had to find him now, and fast. If any of the angels find out you've already lost him, you're dead. Luckily for you, you learnt how to find locations of people by thinking of their name.

Castiel.

Nothing. It was as if he vanished from the face of earth. You prayed- no. Hoped. You hoped he wasn't dead, for yours and his own sake.

Whoever this Castiel guy was, he must be important so you had to make sure he stayed alive unlike Liam. You couldn't see another one of your humans die because of you or your actions.

Thinking hard, you managed to remember a witches name you met a while ago.

"Circe," you whispered to yourself. Flying yourself to her apartment complex, you were met with a strong familiar scent. Herbs, a lot of them, too.

"What the fuck?!" She yelled, crossing her arms. "Fuck sake, Y/n!"

"Sorry," You mumbled, trying to neaten up the paper stack you had blown all over the place. "Uhm- I'll just...place these here..." You said, placing a heavy box full of animal bones on a shelf, only for it to fall to the floor along with even more herbs.

"Oh my-" She frustratingly growled, slapping you in the back of the head. "Just leave it alone you damn angel."

Rubbing the back of your head, you took a step away from the mess and awkwardly sat at the table with bowls full of blood and other witch stuff. "I uhm- I should have called." You mumbled, finally looking into her brown eyes.

"Yeah, you should have." She growled, crossing her arms like a mother. "What do you need this time?" She asked, tilting her head slightly, allowing her brown curls to cover one eye.

For a witch, Circe wasn't that bad. She only used her spells on people who deserve them. Criminals. "Uhh, I need a guys location, names Castiel." You said, gnawing on your finger nervously. Sure, you were an angel and probably could smite her with a flick of the wrist, but Circe scared you. She was more human than witch, at least her personality was, and that scared you. After you had swallowed that light, you basically lost all humanity that was ever inside of you. Who wouldn't be afraid of Circe after everything she's done, she can still act and feel like a human?

Circe understood your panic and hurry and removed the bowls from the table immediately, replacing it with a map of Kansas. You watched impatiently, listening to her chant something and light the map on fire. Within seconds, the map had burnt to ashes besides a spot in the left hand corner. "He's there," She said, tapping on the street name. "Most likely in that motel," She tapped on the closest motel.

Smiling gratefully, you nodded your head as a thank you and quickly flew to the motel she had mentioned. Just like the other, this motel was on its few last years. Wallpaper looked as if it had been slowly torn day by day, while the furniture's mould was bent in and looked incredibly unclean.

Without bothering to check-in at the front desk, you went from door to door trying to find this dang human. After the fifth door, you finally saw the face from the video cameras. "Hello?" He asked wearily, hiding behind the door.

You squinted at his behaviour, wondering what he was hiding behind the panel of wood separating the two of you. Remembering you had strict orders from heaven, you came up with a lame excuse. "I'm Y/n. I saw you outside earlier and was wondering if you'd like to go out for drinks later tonight?" You smiled, pretending to act as normal as possible.

He smiled warmly and moved something around behind his back before stepping away from the door. "I'd really like that, Y/n,"

"Can I uhm- know your name?" Like you needed it.

"Steve,"

Ooh, he is important isn't he?

"Nice to meet you Steve,"

"You too," He shifted on his feet and glanced around before finally opening his mouth to speak once again. "What time do we leave?"

Perfect.

#castiel #supernatural #spn #cas #reader x cas #reader x castiel #angel!reader #human!cas #human!castiel #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #misha #misha collins #fanfic

17 notes · View notes