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captain-tch · 4 years

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Battle of the Bands (Modern AU)

You're a drummer in the Scouts, a band taking the town by storm. A certain bar owner is one of your biggest supporters.

Being a drummer in the Scouts was a dream. Music was your passion, and being able to create it for other people to enjoy was exhilarating. Their applause was your drug, and you were hooked. It was even better sitting in the back. Your shy personality suited being a drummer, hiding behind the band whilst you played to your hearts content.

Hanji on the other hand, was the complete opposite. They basked in the spotlight, their voice nothing angelic but charismatic enough to grasp the attention of the audience, and their wacky personality the winning ticket to fully absorb them in the music.

Erwin was the biggest surprise to most people. Looking at him, you wouldn't expect him to be the talented guitarist of the soft rock band Scouts, with his blonde hair and blue eyes. Yet every time he held a guitar in his hands, fingers caressing the strings in a melody that hypnotised anyone who would listen.

Somehow though, it all worked. As a trio you worked in harmony to create some of the best music the town had heard in years. You were quickly becoming known in the area for your live performances, and the original songs the band performed went down very well with the crowds. Of course it did help that the crowd had had a few beers by that point, but praise was praise.

"Y/N," Erwin pressed his hands against your drum kit, leaning close to you. His eyes were lit up with an excitement you rarely saw outside of the band room. "You're going to love the new music I came up with. The strumming nearly broke my fingers but its worth it."

"Your sacrifice is noted." You give him a small smile, tapping at his hands. "Now get your filthy hands off my drum kit. I want these looking brand spanking new for tonight."

The door slammed open, Hanji making a grand appearance. In their hand was a tray holding three coffee cups, the liquid nearly spilling over with Hanji's enthusiastic movements. "Who's ready to take over the world?"

You shared an exasperated look with Erwin. "Hanji, how much coffee have you had this morning?"

"I haven't stopped shaking for 4 hours but that's fine." Hanji waved it off, once again nearly forgetting about the cups in the tray. They swore, righting themselves quickly and passing the drinks out.

You nodded your thanks, gingerly taking a sip of the hot drink. "Do you think its a good idea to have more?"

"Y/N's right, you've got a problem."

Hanji shrugged off your concerns, slapping their hands on their thighs. "How you guys feeling about tonight?"

"We've practised every night for over a month. I'm certain we can win this." Erwin knocked back his coffee in one gulp, winking at both Hanji and yourself. "We haven't lost one yet."

"But there's always a chance we could."

Hanji wrapped an arm around your shoulders, shaking you. "Have a little faith Y/N."

"I'm just being realistic." You rolled your eyes, shrugging yourself out of Hanji's grip with a bright smile.

"If you play anything like you usually do, we'll win for sure." Erwin shone a charming smile at you, one that would cripple the knees of any onlooker. To the surprise of many you were immune to his charms. Having spent hours practising in the band, and nights out clubbing together you saw him more of an older brother than a romantic interest. And after you'd seen him vomit into your hat and pass it back to you, a nervous smile on his face, you definitely harboured no romantic feelings.

"Lets practice and find out," Hanji suggested, absentmindedly stealing your remaining coffee and draining the contents. You chuckled to yourself, used to her antics by now.

You all agreed, conversation quickly being swapped for the fast pace of the music.

Your hands wouldn't stop shaking. You'd tried everything - deep breathing, a drink - or three - you'd even tried running outside to burn off some energy. But the car park of the cramped pub didn't offer much in the ways of a running track.

"You okay?" Erwin sidled up next to you, taking the quaking glass out of your hands. You'd forgotten you even had it.

Giving him a small smile, you nodded, gulping nervously. "I always am."

"I know you, you're always jittery before a gig." Erwin looked at his guitar, the sound technician beckoning him over. "Look, I have to do my sound check, but once I'm done we'll complete our pre-show ritual." Clapping a firm hand on your shoulder, he gave one squeeze before leaving.

Sighing, you picked up your drink from where Erwin discarded it, taking a large gulp. It took everything you had not to spill the liquid all over yourself. Your heart was racing a million miles an hour and the churning in your stomach had you convinced once the show was done you were going to throw up.

Or throw up now.

"Don't vomit on my bar. I just cleaned that."

You scoffed, eyeing the dark haired man before you. "I'll try not to, Levi."

"You better do more than try." He scrubbed at an invisible speck of dirt on the counter. Even though his eyes weren't on you, you felt every ounce of his attention. "Any reason you look like you're going to re-create the scene from the Exorcist?"

"The usual." You fiddled with your fingers, dusting over the callouses lacing them. Music bore its scars.

"There's no reason. You're not terrible." The tips of your ears burned at his words. You were used to praise, your irrational thoughts twisting them to be insults. But coming from him? Something felt sincere about his words. It might be because you felt a sort of closeness with him. He was the first bar owner who signed you up, having full faith in your music ability. He never complained about Hanji's large personality, or Erwin's tendency to be overly public with his affection with someone he had met that night.

He'd witnessed all of the bands highs and lows. He always sat with you at this very bar, and he always was the first one to speak. In fact, you were fairly certain you were the only person he attempted to strike a conversation with without prompt. Those chats meant the world to you. Every time you sat at that bar your heart beat slightly faster and your palms sweatier.

So yeah, what he said caused a blush to spread over your face.

"Thanks Levi." You flashed him a smile, feeling the butterflies in your stomach easing slightly. He didn't respond, acknowledging your words by lifting his eyes from the task at hand and nodding at you.

"Y/N!" Hanji shouted, even though they were half way across the room. "We need you for your sound check."

Without a word you shuffled off the bar stool, made your way to the drum set and sat down. You noted the grubby fingerprints on your drums - you were going to kill Erwin. Picking up the sticks, you rolled them in your hands, spinning and twirling them.

At the command of Hanji counting down, you smacked the sticks together to the beat, all nerves melting away as you pounding the drums, let the cymbals shrill out. The world around you disappeared as you punched out the beat of the song.

Levi looked up from where he was cleaning, drawn to the sudden increase of noise. His eyes were instantly captivated by you. Your body moved with the music, a serenity on your face he had never seen before.

You were magnificent.

He couldn't comprehend why you were nervous at all. Those drum sticks were like an extension of your hands, the movement so natural it took him by surprise. You were so ingrained in the music you didn't notice how everyone in the room stopped to watch.

The song ended, and Levi couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. He enjoyed their music - in fact, he normally hated rock but something about the Scouts spoke to him. He wasn't a big music lover himself and apart from the money earned from holding a live band, he normally had no ulterior motive.

But now he realised he might.

Something flickered in his chest as he watched you twirling the drum sticks absentmindedly in your hands, talking with earnest with Erwin and Hanji. Even from half way across the room, Levi could hear Hanji's side of the conversation.

"You're fantastic!" Hanji's hands moved with such ferocity that they clashed with the cymbals, a chime echoing in the air. Hanji was unfazed, carrying on with their zest like they usually did.

You only nodded, a slight turn to your lips as you took in what Hanji said. Suddenly a laugh burst out of you. There was nothing sweet about the noise - in fact, it sounded more like a witches cackle than anything - but still it was like music to his ears.

"Hey, bossman!" Hanji gestured to Levi. He didn't try to hide his distaste for the nickname. "Want to join us in our pre-show ritual?"

"I'm not a part of the band."

Erwin chuckled, striding towards Levi. "You're an honorary member."

Nonchalant, Levi shrugged, joining the trio. A slight red tinge had blossomed across your cheeks.

"What is it we're doing?"

"Ssh," Hanji placed a finger to their lips. "Its a secret."

Rolling his eyes, Levi followed as the trio pushed through the back door of the bar, ignoring the distinct smell of rot and screeches of cat fights. They made their way to a pair of ladders propped against the side of the building.

Levi frowned. He'd never seen them before.

You noticed his confusion. "The ladders are ours. We bring them to every gig."

You acted as if that provided all the answers; it just gave Levi more questions.

The trio carried on as normal, climbing up the ladder and reaching the top. You all paused when you reached the roof, looking over the town from a entirely new perspective. You wondered if this was how birds felt.

"Its beautiful." You whispered.

Levi looked at the trio with a brow raised. "Is this it?"

"That's not what we're here for." Hanji smirked, a mischievous look in their eyes. Without warning, they opened their mouth.

And screamed.

The sudden shrill noise sent Levi's hands to covering his ears, staring at the insanity that was Hanji. He was about to question it, not having realised you and Erwin were unbothered, when more noise joined Hanji.

Both Erwin and you had your mouths open wide, screeching and hollering so loud Levi thought he'd go deaf.

After what felt like a million years the noise stopped. You gasped for breath, a brilliant smile on your face.

"Isn't that going to affect your gig?"

Erwin brushed it off, winking in Hanji's direction. "They already sound like a dying cat anyways, might as well have a good reason."

"Oi," Hanji exclaimed, smacking Erwin upside the head. "I'd like to watch you hold a note as long as I can."

"And I'd like to not hear your voice crack."

Erwin and Hanji started play fighting, much to Levi's amusement. You stood back, snorting at their childish antics and walking straight past them.

"Can you guys do that after the show?"

"Sorry Y/N."

Without a word you all retreated from the roof, walking back into the bar. Levi followed them wordlessly, taken aback by what had just happened. You laughed at his awestruck face, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Welcome to the band."

An hour later the gig was in full swing. You could barely believe that an hour ago you were quaking with nerves, your body now alight with excitement. This is what you love. The roar of the audience surrounding you fed your addition, driving your high as your poured more energy into the beat.

Sweat had long since broke out on your neck. You were gasping, sucking in as much air as possible before you next had to provide backing vocals. With your slick skin acting as a glue for your clothes and your shining face, you were the picture of exhaustion.

Levi didn't see that though.

In the brief moments where he was able to stop and watch, he was captivated by you. He saw someone who was so striking it was hard to take his eyes off them. He saw their passion in the way you beat the sticks against the drums, or how your entire body danced to the music.

It was no surprise that the Scouts won the Battle of the Bands. Their competition had been meek, the audience quiet as a mouse in comparison to how they reacted with the Scouts. Yet you still had a look of wonder on your face as your band took to the stage to accept the win, Hanji giving a short speech and you bowing to the crowd.

He wasn't entirely sure how it all led to you sitting at the bar, a cup of tea cradled in your hands as Erwin loaded the car with your instruments. Hanji was busy talking animately to someone on the phone, every now and then looking over at you and giving you a thumbs up. Usually this was something you all did together. Tonight, you two were alone. Either way, however you two ended up in this situation, Levi wasn't complaining.

"Thanks for the tea." Your voice was raspy. Providing the backing vocals and your pre-gig ritual had not been merciful to your throat.

Levi nodded, tinkering behind the bar as he completed the lock up procedure for the night. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, relishing each others company. You happily sipped at your tea, thankful that Levi had put a touch of lemon in to soothe your throat.

"You guys looking to book another performance?" Levi stopped for a moment, pulling his diary from under the counter. "I might be able to fit you in the next few weeks."

"We're actually putting the band on hold for a while." Levi stared at you, brows raised. Taking this as a sign to explain, you carried on. "Erwin wants to focus more time on training for the army, and Hanji is getting ready for a study year in Japan."

"And what about you?"

You shrugged. "Business as usual for me."

Levi saw the way your shoulders drooped, eyes darting to Erwin and Hanji for a moment. He could already tell you were going to miss them.

"No plans at all?"

"Boring, I know." You laughed. It was your way to cope - that was clear as day.

Before he could second guess it, his words slipped out. "Why don't you help out here?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You can help me book new talent coming in. With the Scouts on hold I need someone to fill in the Friday night spot."

The band would never be split up. You'd stay in contact. You three had always been together, and it didn't matter in what way. Whether you were miles apart or only spoke once every three months, you were going to be friends for life.

Hanji and Erwin were going on their own separate paths. Maybe this could be yours. It wasn't what you had pictured, and you had no idea where it would lead.

There was something exciting about the unknown.

"Okay, when do I start?"

#attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hanji zoë #attack on titan fanfic #modern au

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angelcorebabyowo · 4 years

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Can I have a ride home, I'm at a party and I dont know anyone...

Paring: RemRom

Words: 2771

Chapters:1[or 2]/ ???

Warnings: cursing, somewhat unsympathetic light sides from how you look at it,

oman knew this was a bad idea, he knew going to this dance was a bad idea, he knew that his friends would most likely stand him up, trust me he did. What he didn't expect was to be sitting on the gym bleacher gently crying his eyes out. He didn't expect his brand new dress to be ripped or the heel of his heels to just tear off because he fell. Despite his shaking so much he mages to get his phone and call up his brother, one of the only people he cares about anymore and puts the phone up to his ears begging for someone to answer. Tears had started flowing more freely now, no control to him, and had started full-on sobbing.

"You've reached the trash can! Leave a message after the beep!" was all that came from the other line and Roman almost threw his phone. He tried one more time and it finally worked and he nearly jumped when it worked. The sound of Remus' voice put a smile on his face despite the circumstance.

"Hey whats u- wait, are you crying?" The voice on the other line was hoarse and sounded as if they just chugged a gallon of those drink packets. Just like Remus. He had stayed home seeing as he had gotten expelled earlier in the year for beating up one of the kids who picked on roman and sent them to the hospital, he was lucky that no charges had been pressed, although it was bad enough the school board hadn't wanted him to come back unless he pulled that stunt again.

"They stood me up!" Roman cries and tries to form a ball but the bleachers hadn't given much room to so much as move another inch, "Told me I was too annoying to hang out with them anymore!" he knew it sounded childish but that was the exact wording, and he wasnt about to back down.

"Who do they think they are!" both of them said at the same time, although, Remus sounded angrier than Roman. Roman made a sound that sounded a bit like a whimper at the tone, he never did like it.

"Look, I'm in the middle of something right now, and by that I mean I just woke up. I'll pick you up in a few minutes. Do you want me to stay on the line, or will you be alright?" Remus asks his tone of voice nearly completely changing after he heard Roman's reaction to it before. He might have been an asshole but not enough to fully harm his brother during their weakest point, he would never swoop that low.

"Can you um..Can you stay on the phone?" Roman wasn't crying anymore but he was still sniffling up a storm and it was apparent with every word. He had a small problem with being alone when he was in the state. He knew he couldn't do anything but it still made him beyond uncomfortable to be alone.

"Alright then, go and wash your face off to get all the snot off of it" Remus exclaims, Roman could hear him getting up and his bones popping in the prosses, "You're a messy crier"

Roman does just that well at least walks to the bathroom, wincing and hissing as he walked to the bathroom, he refused to take his shoes off so every step was painful and he nearly started crying again.

"What's the damage? I hear you hissing, sound like Dee" He heard Remus ask him, it was muffled due to the phone not being directly on his ear and more on his shoulder. Dee, Or Jauns Lawrenson, was their mutual friend who had graduated last year and was currently going to Law school or something like that. Neither of them paid enough attention to their friend's career to tell anyone about it.

"My shoe broke and my dress has a gnarly rip in it, luckily the dress looks pre-ripped, can't say the same for the shoes." Roman practically growls annoyed that his favourite outfit was remotely ruined."Stop laughing! It's not funny! It's not fucking funny!" He practically shouts as he gets into the unisex bathroom and locks the door. Luckily there was only one stall so it wasn't like anyone would barge in on him or yell at him for being too loud.

He slowly sets the phone down on the sink and moves to turn the water on, his movements were slow as if he didn't know if he wanted to turn the handle. In all honesty, he didn't want to, he didn't want to hear the noise of it right now, but looking in the mirror at his face he knew he needed to do it. His eyeliner had smeared and his mascara had dripped down to his cheeks and with how much he's rubbed them it was smugged in more places than one on his face.

"It's alright, look I'll tell you a trick that helps me. Paper towels. Get them as wet as you can and then turn the water off when it's as full as it can be, that way the water isn't on for that long and the struggle of everything isn't as bad as it would be!" Remus says cheerfully. Roman could hear the car door close and the engine start. "Want me to pick up Dee? I doubt he'd mind if so!"

He'd never be more relived for Remus to get behind the wheel, and the thought of Dee being there sounded beyond amazing, but it was always just a little too loud with all three of them in the car."No! Just you is enough, hurry up, would you? All the lights are hurting my head, I'll meet you out front"

"I'm also bringing you some pyjamas so that you don't freeze to death tonight. Love you, I'll see you soon" Remus says quickly before hanging up the phone. He had said it so many times in the past, the simple phrase 'I love you' although, it sounded a bit more affectionate today, Roman didn't question it.

After 10 minutes of scrubbing his face raw to get the makeup off he finally got a text from Remus alerting that he was outside. With that Roman practically runs out and to the car and quickly gets the passengers seat and groans as the somewhat to warm hits him, he gently sings into the seat not even putting his seatbelt on. He looks at the roof with a somber expression, it wasn't a good look on him at all.

"That bad huh?"Remus asks handing Roman MacDonald's bag and a normal Walmart bag "I picked you up a cheeseburger and a small fry, would've picked up a happy meal but I didn't know if you would've wanted that. Plus I know damn well you didn't eat anything today, don't play dumb with me. You also got some fuzzy bottoms and a paw-patrol shirt because I couldn't find the normal clothes, Hope that's alright." Remus started driving as Roman dug into his food. The other twin was right, after all, he hadn't had anything all day because of his nerves.

"Yeah it's all right, my guy," Roman says with a big bite of food in his mouth, a smile was now playing at the corners of his lips now instead of a frown. He then changed his shirt, not even carrying if people could see him do it. He wasn't a particularly interesting site to see after all, the only intresting part would be a scar over his heart from a surgery a few years back.

"Don't talk with your mouth full. Not polite" Remus says with a breathy laugh as he continued to drive, he was driving to the beach because he knew that was Roman's favorite place, most definitely at night. He just wanted to see the other happy again .

Roman rests his head on the window as the streetlights, and the city in general, fade into a bleak nothingness. He was used to it, he and Remus drove this same route nearly every night. Not under the same circumstances, of course, just on the nights Roman couldn't sleep or if Remus dragged him out of another midnight adventure. Tonight, after the prom fiasco, had the same calming air to it as all of the other times did. Roman sat up slightly, still making sure to slouch just enough to not touch the top of the seat so that he was still comfortable.

The music from the radio was soft enough to make the car seem a little bit alive. The twins' silence was never an awkward one it was, more often than not, a comfortable one. This didn't mean they enjoyed it though. It was Remus who broke the silence, it typically was, and smiled over at him. It was awkward seeing as the "elder" had sharpened his canines to a vampire-ish point on summer and now continues to do it anytime it somewhat goes dull. Roman did the same thing, although, he was too much of a wuss to do it for more than that summer so his teeth had dulled a lot in that area.

"I'm not going to ask you again Ro, what flavour milkshake do you want?" Remus questions as he pulls into a Rallys parking lot, not wanting to go to the drive-through without knowing the full order "If you same say some shit like vanilla I'm going to leave you in this parking lot."

"Jokes of you, I hate Vanilla milkshakes. Banana and can you ask for extra whipped cream" Roman says laughing softly and sits up completely before crossing his legs. He felt better now, and with the promise of something sweet his entire mood changed even more. "And I'll give you ten bucks when you get home if you get me a thing of funnel fries, like a small thing, not even a medium"

"I'll get you a medium shake and a small thing of those fries," Remus says with fake disgust, in all honesty, hed most likely steal a few of Roman's "How can you even eat those things? Think of all of the parasites that are in that dough"

"This is coming from the guy who drank the pond water from my science project!" Roman says with a smug smile. a few years ago Remus, as a dare, drank an entire jar of muddy pond water leaving him in the hospital for a month with several bacterial infections and nearly died. Roman was lucky Remus found it funny or hed most likely would have gotten slapped.

"Ugh- don't remind me, I'm still trying to pay off all of those hospital bills!" Remus groans sadly before pulling into the drive-through line before quickly saying his order and playing and getting his change back, he then got the food just as fast because it had been only them and it seemed pretty much deserted at the time. He quickly drove off mumbling something about how the workers seemed mean and he should go back and give them a piece of his mind.

"Ah shut up and give me my food," Roman says and practically snatches the bag from Remus' lap with a small smile and keeps it on his side. He wasn't being mean it was more of a playful/teasing type if anything. He was rarely mean to his brother but when he was it was for typically good reason, or he just wanted to be a nuisance. "None for you!"

"Little shit!" Remus says laughing fondly before reaching over and stealing one of the fries and plopping it in his mouth before taking a sip of his milkshake "Before everything, want to go home or do you just want to ride around? We don't have anything big planned so it's not like we have to even wake up early. I was going to bring us to the beach but I'm pretty sure we'd get chased off by those snobby rich guys again." "Want to risk it to see if they do?"

"Nah, knowing them they'd press charges or some shit trespassing and I don't feel like getting arrested tonight"

"You're no fun anymore!" Roman wines

"Finnnnneee We'll go later when there's no chance of us getting caught! That better Little prince?"

"Hell yes! now come on start driving faster!" Roman says with a grin looking over at Remus before turning up the radio and practically bouncing in his seat. He had heard that nickname so many times it might as well had been his name, it was a reference to one of his favourite story as a kid and even to this day "Our song!" Roman quickly rolled down the window and started tosing scream the lyrics to "tongue-tied by Grouplove" it was rarely played on the radio but when it did Roman made sure to sing it.

It had a good summer and over the top entry they could both get behind

"Let me guess, you want me to sing along with you?" Remus says laughing softly before rolling down his window as well as the other two windows. If the two of them were going to be loud they were going to be so loud that the entire neighbourhood they had been driving through was going to have to file a noise complaint on a random beat-up car that drove through the neighbourhood. and started screaming the lyrics. "Take me to your best friends house! Loved you then and I loved you AND I LOVED YOU NOW!" They both sung that part ith all of their heart, Roman was playing the air guitar and Remus jamming out while thumping on the wheel as he drove. The car was filled with the two Teens laughing their asses off as the music practically blasted as they screamed and laughed just as hard. For a moment they forgot about everything that ever happened to them as they jammed out.

Everything was perfect in that time and space.

Eventually, everything calmed down and Roman yawned and leaned back looking at the ceiling closing his eyes slightly and took a sip from his now melted Milkshake. "This was fun Re-"

"Really? I think it was the best experience we will ever have in this plane of existence."Remus says pulling into the driveway and parked the car, they didn't go to the beach seeing how late it had gotten and both had started to get overly drowsy "And yeah, it was fun for me as well. Want me to carry you or are your legs good enough?"

"Carry me" Roman whispers tiredly and making grippy hands in Remus' direction "Please?"

Remus took the keys out and got out of the car before walking over to Roman's side and helps them out and picks them up bridal style."You good?"

"Always am Rem, now hurry up before I spit in your face for moving to slow. "

"Oh you know I love it when you spit on me"

"Ugh! Shut up and get a move on, would you!"

Remus laughs as he walks into the house, it was unlocked because Remus kept losing the front door key, and then walks to Roman's room and flops them on the bed. "You going to sleep or want me to keep the light on? I'll most likely not come back for a few minutes because I have to go fix up the car," he asks walking over to the light switch. They shared a room because Neither Remus nor Roman had the strength to clean out, or sleep, in their parents' old room after they died despite it being years ago.

"Off, yeah off," Roman says softly nuzzling into the blanket cocoon he already managed to get himself into. His mind was practically mush at this point so he didn't feel like talking

"Goodnight sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite," Remus says turning the lights off fully.

Roman snorts "Goodnight Rem! Don't let them bite you either!"

Remus fondly rolls his eyes and playfully blows a kiss and closes the door and sighing softly as he hears the tiny click. He slowly walks back to the car to get all of the stuff and runs back inside and puts the stuff into the tiny kitchen before going to the room flopping down on his bed and looks over at Roman who seemed to be peacefully sleeping. He smiled and wrapped himself in his own blankets before finally falling asleep.

#im really proud of this but be free to drag it through the dirt and then some #remrom #romrem #crosspost #originally on ao3 #this is two chapters but im weird so its one on here #remus sanders #ts roman #ts Roman #ts remus #highschool au #slow burn #long post #2771 words of shit

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thebrotherssalvatore321 · 4 years

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Keeping Secrets Ch. 3

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Pairing: Damonxoc at first, Tylerxoc for a hot minute, Elijahxoc for a hotter minute, KlausxOc endgame. Warnings: Abuse. A/N: Damon is out of character in the beginning, but it gets better I promise.

The next morning Katie woke up, threw a black tank top and red shorts into her school bag and started down stairs. When she got to the bottom she was met by her grandpa’s angry face. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” she asked, not knowing what he was still doing home when he usually left before the sun even came up.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what this is about.” He practically growled at her. The furious look in his dark brown eyes made her take a step back up the stairs.

“I swear. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said, taking another step back.

"Really?" He asked taking a menacing step toward her. "So you didn't let a boy into your bedroom window last night?"

"No, I didn’t." She answered with stiffened shoulders and clenched teeth.

He glared at her then the next thing she knew the back of his hand collided with the side of her face, hitting her so hard that her glasses went flying and she fell to the floor. "I will not have a whore living under my roof again." He leaned down and grabbed her face in his large hand, squeezing too tight. "Don't you ever pull that shit again or I'll do more than give you a little slap." He stood up and massaged his hand. "Now get your sorry ass out of my sight."

She picked herself and her glasses up off the floor and rushed to her car. She didn't bother checking her face until she pulled up at the school and parked. The first thing her eyes landed on was a bright red spot in the white of her left eye. She took her glasses off and leaned closer to see that a blood vessel in her eye had popped. "Awesome." She sighed and put her glasses back on, then noticing the very slight tinge of pink on her cheek.

She could only hope that no one noticed so that she wouldn't have to come up with a lie. Finally because she couldn't put it off any longer she hopped out of the car and headed over to Elena and Bonnie who had walked past her. "Is this the whole witch mojo thing again?" Elena asked Bonnie as Katie walked up to them.

"What about witch mojo?" Katie asked as she pushed the strap of her bag further up on her shoulder.

"Bonnie touched Stefan and got a bad feeling." Elena filled her in. "She thinks I should slow things down with him."

"Maybe you should listen to her." Katie said with a shrug. "I mean her feelings have been really accurate here lately." Katie gave Bonnie a smile that told her that she wasn’t making fun.

"Not you too." Elena groaned.

"We’re just concerned." Bonnie summed it up.

"And I love you two for it." She told them as she placed a hand on each of their shoulders then let them go. "But I feel good. It's been a hard year and I'm kinda starting to feel like things are getting back to normal again. Stefan’s a big part of that."

Katie and Bonnie were sharing a look of concern when Stefan walked up. "I'm gonna try to call Caroline. She’s not answering her phone." Bonnie said as she started walking off.

"Yeah, I don’t have an excuse, but I'm gonna go too." Katie said with motion to the school over her shoulder.

"Katie don't-" Elena started.

"See you later." Katie cut Elena off as she walked away.

Due to Katie having to spend lunch time in the math room getting help with what she couldn't understand during the actual class, Katie didn't see Elena or Bonnie until after school, during cheer practice.

Bonnie and Katie were doing stretches when Elena showed up. "Oh my God! You're here." Bonnie yelled as she hopped up and hugged Elena.

"Yeah we didn't think you'd actually show." Katie said as she looked around. "Speaking of no shows, where's Caroline? She never misses practice."

"I don’t know. I haven't talked to her all day." Bonnie answered looking around for Caroline.

"Change of subject." Elena said, getting her friends attention. "You two are coming to dinner tonight."

"We are?" Bonnie and Katie asked at the same time.

"Mmhmm." Elena said as they all sat down and started stretching again. "You two, me and Stefan."

"I don't think Grandpa is gonna go for that." Katie said avoiding eye contact with her friend.

"Yeah tonight's not good." Bonnie tried to get out of it too.

"You can sneak out, you do it all the time. Your grandpa’s oblivious." Elena pointed at her and Katie couldn’t help but think about how bad she would get beaten if her grandpa found out about her sneaking out. Elena then pointed at Bonnie, "and you're just trying to get out of it. You're coming, both of you."

"Fine." Bonnie sighed.

Elena turned to Katie with expectant eyes. "I'll see what I can do."

"Seriously, where is Caroline?" Bonnie asked as she grabbed her phone and speed dialed Caroline.

"I don't know. It's not like her." Elena said with a shrug as they heard a car drive up.

"Um, is that Caroline?" Katie asked as a light blue, convertible Camaro parked near them and Katie recognized the driver as Damon. "With Damon Salvatore?"

The three girls stood up as they watched Caroline kiss Damon. "Salvatore, as in Stefan?" Bonnie asked.

"Yeah." Katie answered not looking away from Damon where he still sat in his car wearing sunglasses.

"Wait, how do you know Damon?" Elena asked Katie.

"I met him at the grill the other night." Katie shrugged as if it were no big deal.

Caroline came walking up, "I got the other brother." She said proudly as she walked through the group of friends and looked at Elena, "hope you don't mind." She stood at the front of the group of cheerleaders and started barking out orders. Katie noticed Damon looking at Elena. It wasn't until she looked away that Damon turned his eyes to Katie and gave her a wink. She glared at him with flared nostrils. “Katie!” Caroline snapped getting Katie’s attention. “Are you deaf? Get into formation.” She tore her eyes from the ever smirking Damon and did as Caroline demanded.

Katie didn’t fail to notice the scarf around Caroline’s neck or how snotty she was being to Elena. She knew that Caroline felt like she had gotten one up on Elena. She understood how it felt to constantly feel like Elena got everything, but Caroline was taking it to a whole other level of bitch.

After practice was over Katie headed home and showered. Thankfully her grandpa wasn’t home, so she could relax as she styled her hair, dressed in a white t-shirt, her black leather jacket, denim jeans and black knee high boots. She finished the look off with a little smudged eyeliner, mascara and clear lip gloss. Her grandpa was driving up as she pulled her car out of the driveway. She knew if he wasn’t drunk when she came home that she would be getting another thrashing. She would just have to cross that bridge when she came to it.

When she got to Elena’s she saw that Bonnie’s car was already parked outside. So she let herself into Elena’s like she had done for as long as she could remember. “Hey, guys!” Katie called seeing that they weren’t in the living room.

“Hey, we’re here!” Elena called and Katie followed the direction of her voice to the kitchen.

“Today I’m obsessed with numbers.” Bonnie was saying as Katie walked in. “Three numbers. I keep seeing 8, 14 and 22. How weird is that?” Katie sat down on the bar stool across the island from the two other girls.

“Maybe we should play the lottery.” Elena quipped, earning a glare from bonnie. “Have you talked to your grams?”

“No. She’s just gonna say it’s because I’m a witch. I don’t want to be a witch. Would you guys want to be a witch?” Bonnie asked with a look between her friends.

“I don’t wanna be a witch.” Elena answered with a grossed out look on her face.

“I don’t know. It sounds like it could be fun.” Katie answered with a shrug of her shoulders as she looked over the bar at the pasta that Elena was pouring into a glass bowl from a take out container.

“You know putting it in a nice bowl isn’t fooling anybody.” Bonnie and Katie laughed as Elena smiled and shook her head.

“Where are the serving spoons?” Elena asked looking around the kitchen.

“Middle drawer on the left.” Bonnie answered quickly.

Elena looked and they were there. “Okay, so you’ve been in this kitchen a thousand times.”

“Yeah…that’s it.” Bonnie said with a roll of her eyes as the doorbell rang.

“Okay, he’s here.” Elena said perking up as she turned to Bonnie. “Don’t be nervous. Just be your normal, loving self.” She then turned to Katie and scrunched up her nose. “And you…don’t be weird.”

Katie started laughing. “But that’s my best quality.” Elena just gave her a smirk and a pointed look over her shoulder as she headed for the door. Katie then turned to Bonnie who still looked a little freaked out over the serving spoon incident. “Okay, so experiment time.” She hopped down off of the stool and went around the island to where Bonnie was standing. “Tell me what’s in this drawer.” She pointed to the one that was right in front of Bonnie.

Bonnie concentrated then said, “Birthday candles.” When she pulled out the drawer a brand new pack of birthday candles sat on top of the other contents.

“I think you just need to accept the fact that you’re a witch.” Katie patted Bonnie on the shoulder then grabbed the bowls of food and brought them to the dining table.

They were in the middle of an awkward conversation revolving around Bonnie and her witchy heritage when they heard the doorbell ring. Elena went to answer it leaving the three to sit at the table staring down at their plates. “Surprise.” They heard Caroline at the door and Katie looked at Bonnie.

“Did you tell her about tonight?” she asked and Bonnie shook her head no and shrugged. Stefan left the table to see what was up.

After Damon and Caroline came inside they all moved to the living room where they started talking. Katie, no matter how badly she wanted to glare at Damon and Caroline where she sat on Damon’s lap, forced herself to smile along with the conversation. But when the topic turned to Elena coming back to the cheer squad the damn holding back Katie’s growing anger at Caroline started to break. “Elena wasn’t so lucky today. It’s only because you missed summer camp.” Caroline said smiling at Elena. “God, I don’t know how you’re ever going to learn the routines.”

“We’ll work with her. She’ll get it.” Bonnie spoke up with a look at Katie then another at Elena.

“I guess I can put her in the back.” Caroline kept going, pretending to be in thought about what to do with Elena. It was really grating on Katie’s nerves.

“You don’t really seem like the cheerleader type, Elena.” Damon said, hoping to be able to get Elena to talk.

But Caroline kept going, “Oh, it’s just because her parents died. Yeah, I mean, she’s just totally going through a blah phase. She used to be way more fun.”

The damn broke and Katie stood up from where she sat in the armchair near the one Caroline and Damon sat on. “Okay, I think you and I need to have a little chat.” She grabbed Caroline by her arm and pulled her outside, ignoring Caroline’s protests.

“What the hell Katie?” Caroline asked as Katie shut the front door.

“Me what the hell?” Katie asked, pointing to herself with a hand on her chest. “No you what the hell? Just because you’re dating Damon doesn’t mean you get to act like a complete and total bitch. Just because you got the hotter Salvatore brother you think you’re so much better than everyone else. I know you always feel like you’re in competition with Elena, I get it, I do too. But it’s not her fault and you don’t need to rub her face in it.”

“You know what? You’re just jealous that you didn’t get either of the Salvatore brothers.” Caroline told her with a glare.

“Yeah?” Katie asked as she grabbed the scarf around Caroline’s neck and jerked it off. “Why would I want someone that would do that to my neck?” she asked with a point to the bite mark on Caroline’s neck. “Why would I want to be a loose bitch like you?”

“At least I’m not a virginal prude!” Caroline yelled as she jerked the scarf out of Katie’s hand and frantically started putting it back around her neck.

Before she could finish Katie saw red and slapped Caroline across the face. Caroline stared at her, mouth agape before she grabbed Katie’s hair and yanked. Damon and Stefan rushed out of the house after the girls knocked over a vase, shattering it across the porch, and easily pulled the fighting girls apart. Damon held back Katie while Stefan held back Caroline. “What’s the matter with you guys?” Elena asked her friends with wide eyes.

“Let go of me, Damon.” Katie said, ignoring Elena, as she looked over her shoulder at Damon where he stood behind her with his arms wrapped around her stomach, holding her tightly against him. He gave her a smirk as he took his arms off of her. She straightened her hair and clothes as best she cold then walked over to Elena, past a glaring Caroline. “I’m sorry I ruined the night. I’ll buy you a new vase.” She then turned to Bonnie, Damon and Stefan who had let go of Caroline. “Good night.” She left them and got into her car hoping that her grandpa wasn’t going to be home when she got there.

TVDTVDTVD

"Where'd you run off to?" Her grandpa was waiting for her on the porch when she drove up.

"I went to Elena's, we had dinner and studied." She answered seeing the beer in his hand. Unfortunately he wasn't drunk, just buzzed. Her bad night was about to get worse.

"Why should I believe you?" He asked, getting up from the porch swing.

"Because it's the truth." She stiffened as he walked slowly over to her where she stood at the door.

"When do you ever tell the truth?" He asked as he grabbed her upper arm, digging his nails into her skin hard enough to hurt, but not pierce the skin. He pulled the door open and dragged her inside. "You went to his house didn't you?"

"Who are you talking about?" She asked with her face twisted in pain.

"You know who I'm talking about you little whore." He threw her onto the floor and she was just happy he was no longer touching her.

"If you don't believe me call Jenna." Elena's aunt Jenna wasn't even there, but Katie knew Jenna was cool. Even if Katie hadn't been there Jenna would cover for her.

"Get your sorry ass out of my sight." He scoffed and grabbed the cordless phone off the arm of the couch.

Katie practically ran up the stairs to her room where she slammed the door and flopped back on her bed. After catching her breath she sat up, turned her stereo on and lowered the volume. Tonight she didn't feel like writing in her journal, so she got straight to homework. It was 11:30 and she was finishing up a history paper when she heard a whoosh then a thud. She wasn't surprised to see Damon outside her window, and she pulled the curtains closed then sat back down at her desk. Instead of going away he pushed the window open himself and came inside. "You know, when a girl closes the curtains it means ‘go away’ not ‘come on in’." she stood up, glaring at him.

"Yeah, well, I don't take no for an answer." He said as he shut the window behind him and smiled at her where she sat at her desk.

"Yeah, well, you need to leave before the neighbors see you and get me in trouble again." She said with a point to the window.

"Come on Katie cat, don't be mad at me." He pouted at her.

"First of all don’t call me that and second I'm not mad. I'm pissed at you and mad at my friend and if my grandpa finds out you're in here he'll-" she stopped herself from letting him know exactly what kind of trouble he was going to get her into. She also realized how loud she had started talking.

"Katie!" Her grandpa yelled and she heard him coming up the stairs.

"You need to leave, now." Katie told Damon and gave him a push to the window.

"Why? He can't hurt me." Damon said with a cocky whisper as he stumbled back a bit.

"It's not you I'm worried about." She whispered, hearing Grandpa’s footsteps getting closer to her door. "Go!" She whispered and tried to shove him, but he didn't move.

She was still shoving at him when the bedroom door opened. "You tacky little bitch." Before her grandpa could take a step into her room Damon appeared in front of him.

"You are going to forget that I'm in here and anytime you hear me in here in the future you are going to forget all about it and carry on with your night." Grandpa repeated everything Damon said, sounding like a zombie. "Now go to bed." Her grandpa turned around and left. Damon shut the door then turned around and flashed Katie a smile. "Problem solved."

Katie rolled her eyes and sat down on her bed. "I'm still pissed at you."

"Come on, how can you stay mad at this face?" He asked, pointing at himself as he smiled again.

"Easy, I remind myself that you are feeding on Caroline after I specifically asked you not to hurt any of my friends." Katie said as she scooted back to lean against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. Damon let his smile fall, looking aggravated. "Why are you with her anyway?"

"I don't know." He shrugged and sat down backwards in the desk chair. "She never shuts up, and I don't see it going anywhere, but she's good in bed so..." he trailed off.

Katie rolled her eyes. "Okay, so you have someone to feed off of and someone to screw so why are you here, Damon? What do you want from me?"

"Your friendship.” He said but it sounded more like a question and he looked a little confused. “Someone to hang out with...talk to without having to wipe your memory or play head games." He said with a shrug as if he was embarrassed.

"Right." She said, not believing him, but she couldn't tell him no. What if he decided to hurt her or drink her dry and kill her. "Then let's talk." She motioned for him to start.

"Why'd you pick a fight with Caroline tonight?" He asked with a smirk and a quirk of his brow.

"Teen gossip, really? That's what you wanna talk about?" She asked with raised brows.

“Girl fights are hot.” He said with a smile and a shrug.

Katie rolled her eyes. "Fine, I blew up on Caroline because she's been really bitchy since she started dating you. Like she thinks she's better than everyone else because-"

"Because she got the hotter Salvatore brother?" He finished for her revealing that he had heard her when she and Caroline were arguing.

She blushed and scratched at the back of her neck. "You heard that huh?" She asked sheepishly.

"Yep. Tell me, was she telling the truth when she called you a virgin and a prude?" He asked with a devious smile on his face.

"I'm not answering that." She shook her head making Damon smile.

"Come on, you're on the cheer squad. How virginal can you be?" He asked, making her throw a paper ball at him. "Really though, I didn’t take you to be the peppy cheerleader type."

"I'm not. Grandpa forced me into it along with softball and track. Plus I get to spend time with my friends." She shrugged.

"Yeah your grandpa seems like a class A prick." Damon said putting emphasis on the k at the end of the word prick.

"He is." She said with a nod. "But I might have to quit cheer if Caroline doesn't stop talking down to everyone. I get enough of that here and if she keeps it up I might have to smack her again." Katie admitted.

“He also seems young to be the grandpa of a 17 year old.” He added.

“Yeah that’s because he and grandma got married and started a family at, like eighteen and then my mother had me when she was really young. Grandpa’s in his late forties and goes to the gym three times a week.” She answered with a shrug.

Damon got up then sat down on her bed and scooted back to sit next to her, leaning against the wall. Katie glared at him. "What? That chair is uncomfortable."

"Nothing." Katie shook her head.

"Don't quit cheerleading." Damon said without looking at her. "If you quit Caroline wins. Besides, no one likes a quitter." He looked across his shoulder at her and smiled a cheeky smile. "Plus, you looked hot in those little short shorts of yours at practice today." He wiggled an eyebrow at her and bumped her shoulder with his.

"Flirting with me isn’t going to get you anywhere.” She answered looking down at her hands, picking at her cuticles. “Especially if you keep feeding on my friend.”

"Did your grandpa do that to your eye?" Damon asked out of nowhere. Katie didn't answer. No one had ever asked that before, not even Elena or Bonnie. She just stared down at her feet and started picking fuzz off of her socks. “Katie...” he drew out her name, but she still didn't look at him so he grabbed her chin between his thumb and pointer finger and turned her face to him. “Answer the question.” Katie finally nodded. "Do I need to compel him again?"

"No, I'll be fine." Katie answered quietly as she grabbed Damon's wrist and moved his hand from her face. “If I ask you to stop feeding on Caroline will you?” Katie asked knowing what the answer would be, but she hated the fact that he was hurting her and probably compelling her to cover it up and she couldn’t stand by and not try to do something about it.

“No.” Damon answered as if it was a stupid question.

“Even if I offer you me?” The fact that she wasn’t sure if she really wanted what she was offering was clear in her tone. “I know what you are. I’ve promised not to say anything and so far I’ve kept up that promise. You won’t have to compel me to forget about it and plus side, I’ve got seven years worth of practice in the art of covering up unexplainable injuries.”

When Damon didn’t say anything she looked across her shoulder to see him staring at her as if he was trying to figure her out. “Did you just submit a verbal resume to become my own personal juice box?” he asked, still glaring at her.

“Um, I guess that’s one way to look at it.” she answered feeling like a weirdo as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear then looked down at her hands folded in her lap and started picking at her cuticles. “Did I get the job? I’ll let you feed on me in exchange for leaving Caroline alone.”

“Anyone ever told you you’re weird?” Damon asked with a hit of a smile.

“Only every day of my life.” She answered with a smirk, giving him the same answer he had once given her.

“You should be more scared of me than you are.” He warned with a glare.

“But I’m not.” She countered as she turned her eyes from his to the colorful bubbles floating around on her computer screen.

“Why is that?” he asked. He’s seen a lot in his lifetime. Human women begging to let him feed on them while rolling around between the sheets, begging him to turn them with hopes of being together forever, etc, but Katie was just trying to do what was best for her friend, even if it put her in danger. He found himself wanting a friendship like that with her. He couldn’t think of anyone he knew that would throw themselves under the bus for him.

“I don’t know.” Katie shrugged, still staring at her computer screen. “Because I’m weird, I guess.” It got quiet between them for a while. Katie was lost in thought, hoping she wasn’t getting herself in too deep with Damon in order to help her friend. Hoping Caroline wouldn’t be too heart broken if she did get Damon to break it off with her. Damon on the other hand was lost in thought about if he wanted to trade the sex and fun feeding activities with a cute blond for something probably not as fun with an interesting, auburn haired, virgin. “So, do we have a deal?” Katie finally asked.

“I don’t know, I’m still thinking about it. Remind me again why I should trade fun, sexy Caroline for feeding on a girl who’s best friend called a virginal prude?” he asked. "Also are you aware that this little deal of yours sounds like you're just trying to get the hotter Salvatore brother all to yourself so you can be the one rubbing everyone's noses in it?"

"First of all, a virgin? Maybe. A prude? No. Second I don’t want you all to myself I want you to stop hurting people that I care about. And being with Caroline just so you can use her for sex, blood and brainwashing is hurting her in my book." She answered.

Damon, needing more time to think through his decision, stalled by asking, "So you think I'm hotter than Stefan huh?"

"I thought we already covered that." She answered with creased brows, avoiding the question.

"You're being prudish." He sing songed not looking at her.

She decided that because Damon had such a big head she would mess with him a little bit before she actually answered his question. "You know I only said that because Caroline thinks she got the hotter brother right?" She said earning a 'oh whatever' look from Damon. "Stefan has the hair, the boy band face, the heart warming smile, the forest green eyes and the cute butt. He's romance novel hot."

"Okay, so you like Stefan better. I get it." He whined, not happy to hear her talking about his brother.

"I didn't say that." She smiled with a shake of her head.

"Well that's what it sounded like." He rested his head back against the wall.

"You didn't let me finish. He's hot, but he also seems like he can be a stick in the mud." She looked at Damon across her shoulder to see him looking down at her with his head still leaning against the wall. "Green eyed boy band doesn't really do it for me."

Damon smirked at her realizing she had been messing with him. "Then what does do it for you?"

"Icy blue eyes," She started, still looking at him, "that stand out against dark brown, slightly unkempt hair, a bright smile that makes me want to smile," Damon smiled a little bigger, "and muscles that are there, but aren't so big that they scare the shit out of me."

Testing the waters, Damon reached over and slid his fingertips over the back of her hand. She didn't pull away so he flipped her hand over and started drawing nonsensical shapes and swirls on her palm. "Deal."

"You know I'm not going to have sex with you just because I find you sexy right?" She asked, surprised yet happy that he would trade Caroline for her. “We can have fun if you want to, but my bottoms are staying on.”

"I know." He told her still playing with her hand. “And trust me, I want to.”

Her stomach tumbled and her cheeks flushed at his confession. “And you know that breaking up with Caroline and letting her down easy is a non negotiable part of the deal?"

"Yep." He popped the p at the end of the word.

"Then deal." She said as she pushed herself off the wall and turned to face him with her legs tucked under her as she held out her hand for a hand shake.

"Nu uh." Damon sat up as he smirked at her. "That's not how I seal a deal." He placed his hand on her neck and ran his thumb over her jaw line as he leaned into her. He could hear her heart beat increase as her eyes slipped closed and he pressed his lips to hers. She didn't kiss him back right away, making Damon realize that if she was a virgin that she might not have ever kissed anymore before. But when she placed her hand on his chest and started kissing him back, he lost all train of thought for a second.

He had eased her back on the bed and was kissing her neck as he slid his hand up her side closer and closer to her breast when her train of thought pulled itself from the wreckage Damon's kiss had caused. "Whoa, hey, slow down there cowboy." She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back.

He didn't have to respond to her push, but he did. "Yes?" he sighed.

"Break it off with Caroline first." She told him with a frown. "I'm not going to have fun with you while you're still with my best friend." She told him and he sighed and let his head fall to rest on her chest. "Let me see or hear you break it off with her without making her feel like she did something wrong, then we'll talk about how far I'm willing to let this," she motioned between them, "go."

"Why do you women always have to make things difficult?" He complained as he sat up and pulled out his phone.

"Stop whining. You knew I had morals when you made this deal." She popped off.

"I don't whine." His pouting tone made her smile.

"Sure you don't." She noticed that he was calling Caroline. "Put it on speaker and don’t mention me. No one needs to know about us."

He pressed the call button then put it on speaker. It rang four times before Caroline answered sleepily. "Hello?"

"Caroline, Sweetheart." He answered with a smile in his voice.

"Damon?" She asked with a yawn. "It's 12:00 in the morning. Is everything okay?"

"No." Damon answered and Katie mouthed the words ‘be nice’, to Damon. "You see, I've been thinking about us and it's just not working for me."

"What? Why not?" She asked and Katie felt a pang of guilt shoot through her chest at the hurt tone of Caroline's high pitched voice. "What did I do wrong?"

Damon saw Katie's pained expression. "Nothing. Okay? You did nothing wrong. It's me. You're simply too good for me." Katie dropped her eyes to her hands and started picking at her cuticles. "I'm no good, I'd only hurt you in the long run and you deserve someone that will treat you right."

"I don't understand. I-" she started.

"I'm sorry Caroline, but we’re over." He hung up the phone knowing Caroline would just drag it out if he didn’t. "Good enough for you?"

"Yeah." She nodded not looking at him as she continued to pick at her nails.

Damon placed a hand over hers, stopping her. "You keep that up and you won't have any skin left on your finger."

"Sorry. Nervous habit." She said with a shrug as she let him take her hand, flip it over and thread his fingers through hers.

"Now where were we?" He asked with one thing on his mind as he wrapped his free arm around her waist and laid her back, pinning the hand he healed down next to her head. Her free hand rested on his back and when he started kissing her neck she sighed and dug her fingertips into the black leather of the jacket he was wearing.

He started teasing his teeth over the sensitive skin of her neck as she pushed his jacket down his arms. "Don't bite my neck unless you plan on giving me some of your blood." She told him breathlessly. “I hate scarves.”

"Then where do you suggest?" He asked between kissing and nibbling at her neck, driving her crazy.

"Wrist, side, hip, anywhere that can be covered by a bracelet or-" She said as he kissed his way up her pail jaw line then cut her off by kissing her.

He kissed her for a minute then pulled back and sat up. She watched as he finished taking off his jacket then grabbed the back of his black t-shirt at the neckline and pulled it over his head. Katie found herself staring while resisting the urge to kiss every inch of his body that she could. "Too scary?" He asked remembering that too much muscle scared her.

"No." She laughed quietly. "Not at all." She sat up and pulled her shirt off then pressed her lips back to his as she draped her arms over his shoulders. His hands gripped her waist and picked her up, setting her on his lap straddling him, then slid up her back to the band of her bra. Feeling that he was about to undo the hooks she started kissing his neck. "Sorry, Charley, the bra stays on."

"Aww, come on, pleeease." He begged knowing she probably wouldn't give in.

"You're a bad influence, you know that?" She asked before she bit his neck harder than she intended.

"Mmhmm" He hummed as he grabbed her face between his hands and pulled her away from his neck. "And you're a tease." He said looking into her eyes and he slid his thumb over her lips.

"Sorry." She frowned and looked down at her fingers splayed out on his chest, hating that she couldn't just make herself turn off her conscience and have sex with a guy like other girls could.

"I didn't say I didn't like it." He said and she looked back up at him. He gave her a small smile that showed off one side of his smile lines.

She smiled and slid her hands up his chest to the back of his neck where one stayed as the other slid up into his hair. He sighed and started kissing her as he laid her back down then started kissing down her jaw line, neck, chest then over her breasts, sliding his hands down her sides as he did. When he got to the bottom of the band of her bra he asked, "You ready?" She nodded and he could tell she was nervous. So he grabbed one of her hands and kissed the back of it then placed it on his head and made her grab his hair. "You don’t like it or you want me to stop, pull."

She swallowed hard, placed her other hand on his head, embedding her fingers in his soft hair, and nodded, "I'm ready."

She shook as he kissed her left side just below her breast and grazed his teeth over her skin. She watched the veins pop up under his eyes as the whites turned red then he closed his eyes and sank his teeth into her. She hissed in a sharp breath, closed her eyes, but quickly relaxed as he grabbed one of her hands and gave it an encouraging squeeze. After a minute he pulled away and kissed her stomach. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She answered as she opened her eyes. "I'm fine. You can keep going if you want." She told him as she brushed his hair back. He smiled at her then kissed his way back to the bleeding bite. After another minute she started feeling sleepy. "Damon." She gave his hair a tug and he stopped. "I'm getting light headed."

He kissed his way up her body to her lips. She was slightly disturbed at herself for liking the taste of her blood on his tongue. Eventually, he slid to the side to lie beside her. "I didn't mean to take so much." He told her genuinely sorry as he brushed an auburn wave out of her face. "How do you feel?" He noticed her eyelids looked heavy.

"Dizzy...sleepy, kind of weak." she answered quietly.

"I'll be right back." He kissed her on her temple then went down stairs to the kitchen. "Okay, if I were a snack cake where would I be?" He asked himself as he looked around the kitchen. He checked the Pillsbury doughboy cookie jar, but only found crumbs. After looking in the pantry and the cupboards he finally found a chocolate bar in the freezer then grabbed a bottle of water out of the icebox. His next stop was the bathroom where he grabbed some gauze pads and medical tape.

When he walked back into the room she was sitting up attempting to put her shirt back on. "Will you help me?" She asked pathetically letting the shirt and her arms fall to her lap.

"In a minute." He tore the wrapper off the cold chocolate and handed it to her. "Eat this, your blood sugars low."

She took it from him, snapped off a piece then popped it into her mouth. "I hate chocolate."

"It's all I could find." He placed a few pads over the bite then grabbed her hand and placed it over them. "Hold that." While she held the gauze he tore off four pieces of tape.

"We don’t keep sweets in the house. Grandpa refuses to have a fat cow living under his roof." She said then bit off a piece of the chocolate.

"Your grandpa's a dick." He taped the gauze in place then grabbed the bottle of water from beside him and unscrewed the lid. "Drink."

She swallowed the chocolate then took the bottle from him. "Yep."

He grabbed her shirt and turned it right side out then put it over her head. "So," he drawled out the word then took the chocolate and water from her and set them on her night stand. She let him help her put her arms through the shirt sleeves. "Other than getting sick after, what did you think?"

She scooted back to lean on her headboard. "It was...scary." she answered then looked at him and his pretty blue eyes. "But fun. I liked it." She gave him a smile.

"Good." He told her with a smile as he leaned in and pecked her on the lips.

"Just...promise me you won't drink so much next time. I feel like shit." She pressed her hand to her head, massaging her temple.

"Sorry." He grabbed the chocolate and water and handed them back to her. She wrinkled her nose at the chocolate, but took it. "I really didn't mean to drink so much, but you taste really good. Best I've had in awhile."

Katie broke the chocolate bar up into pieces. "Wonder why?" She asked then tossed all of the chocolate into her mouth.

"A person's diet can affect it sometimes." He said with a shrug, "like not eating a lot of sugar."

Katie swallowed the chocolate as if she were eating something disgusting. After downing half the bottle of water she looked at the clock to see that it was after two in the morning. "Oh God,” Katie groaned, pressing her hand to her head. “It's late and I have a quiz first thing in the morning."

"Then I'll let you get some sleep." He got up and tucked her into bed then kissed her. "Good night Katie."

“Hey, Damon?” Katie asked, grabbing his hand as he started to grab his shirt and jacket.

“Hmm?” he hummed, turning back to her.

“Would you completely hate it if I asked you to stay?” she asked sleepily.

“No.” he laughed the word quietly. “Move over.” He said as he rubbed her shoulder and she scooted over as he slid under the black and white comforter. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his side. By the time he had gotten comfortable she was sound asleep with her head on his chest.

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years

Text

Constants (9.5k Supernatural fic) (ao3 link)

Meeting with alternate versions of themselves makes Sam and Dean think about what the landscape of the former multiverse might have looked like - or, really, "If there can be multiple Deans and multiple Sams, can there be other versions of things they know. Like... Baby?"

Dean says no. There's only one Baby. She's got four wheels, black paint, and has been his from the beginning. Sam thinks otherwise.

Let's explore what the possibilities of Deans, Sams, and Babys in different universes might look like.

Earth-1

Dean wanders in with two beers, lifting them high as he enters. “There are our last two,” he calls, “Gonna have t’go on a supply run tomorrow!” Sam barely responds, nodding, too focused on his phone. “Hey,” he continues, setting the beers down in front of Sam. Slamming his brother’s hard. Not even a flinch. “Who’s that? Eileen?”

Sam rolls his eyes, grabbing for the beer. “It’s us.”

“Come again?”

“Us,” Sam tells him, flashing his phone screen, “Other us. Rich us.” Dean takes the phone, bringing it closer for a better look. There, on the screen, were them. Somewhat. Half of the other Sam’s face appeared, mouth cut off by the camera. His hair sat atop his hair in a messy bun. Behind him, dressed in a flowing, flowery kaftan and holding an empty cocktail glass, was Dean’s reflection. Dean’s doppelganger points out at a beautiful skyline from the balcony of whatever hotel they camped in.

“God,” Dean winces, “they sure are living the life, aren’t they?”

“Of course they are,” his brother snorts, stealing his phone back. “They don’t have God breathing down their necks.”

Dean sighs, collapsing across from Sam. “True… you think it’s too late to switch places?”

“They’d never,” he scoffs, sipping his beer, “not even for your entire porn collection and Baby –“

“Don’t joke about that,” Dean splutters. “Wherever we’d go, Baby’d come with us.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely. She’s… she’s Baby. Our Baby.” Dean waves his bottle around, droplets of condensation flung in all directions. “They might look like us, but they ain’t us. That Dean wouldn’t know what to do with her… probably’d toss a wad at some mechanic to fix her up instead of getting his own hands dirty…” Dean scowls, glaring at his beer bottle’s mouth. “Like, did you see their hands? Hardly any callouses… and they were too smooth. Bet he never spent hours over a sink trying to wash motor oil outta his nailbeds.”

Sam leans back in his seat, enjoying the spiral of his brother’s tirade. Although he’s not fully present watching him. Curiosity circling around a tiny thought. Like sharks homing in on discarded chum. Before he realizes it, Sam asks, “You don’t know. Maybe they had their own Baby?”

Dean pauses mid-sentence, gaze drifting from the bottle to Sam. “What?”

“Just saying…” Sam shrugs, stringing together his next few words carefully. Uncomfortable with the dangerous glint shining in Dean’s eye. “There are probably an infinite number of universes – sorry… were. And on them, their own Dean and Sam. Maybe they had their own Baby’s?”

“That better be a joke, Sammy,” Dean growls, sloshing some of his drink out of the bottle’s tiny mouth with how forcefully he points it at him. The splash nearly wets Sam’s knuckles. “You cannot even compare Baby to that – that… that mint green disgrace those losers showed up in.”

“I wasn’t trying to compare!”

“Because there’s only one Baby.” Dean can sense he overreacts, the ferociousness twinging his voice surprising him alongside Sam. He cannot contain the fire raging inside. “She’s special, and she’s unique, and she’s ours. There might’ve been a million you’s, and there might’ve been a million me’s… but throughout all of existence, no matter what Earth, there’s only one Baby!”

Earth-16

Dean tosses two Jack’s, face-down, “Two twos –“

“Bullshit!”

He glares at Sam, dimples like craters on his cheeks. “You sure about that?” Dean asks, fanning his cards out. “You think I couldn’t have two twos in my hand? Or,” he gestures at the pile, “do you want all these cards?”

Sam levels his own stare at Dean, dialing up the contempt. “Dean, I played four two’s three rounds ago – if you were paying attention you’d’ve known that. So, pick… them… up!” He barks fake laughter on beat, although it quickly becomes genuine as Dean gathers the pile. They’d gone the entire game without calling each other out, practically the whole deck was in Dean’s grip.

The last few cards were in Sam’s hand. But not for long.

He slides three cards down, grinning. “Three sevens.”

“Dammit!” The cards spill onto the table, a few falling over the edge. Dean’s body sags, head dangling between his legs. “I can’t believe I lost!”

“Serves you right for trying to trick me. Twos… what were they anyway?”

“Jacks.”

“Why wouldn’t you just say that, then?”

“Because the game’s boring when you tell the truth all the time!” Dean drags tired hands down his face, pulling at his skin. “Out of all the chances you had to call bullshit, just when I was so close…” He slaps the table, mood reversing immediately. “Let’s play again. Best three out of five!”

Sam sighs in agreement, gathering the cards. Except, as he does, a shadow steps into view. Someone reaches forward and slaps his hands, forcing him to drop the cards. More falls onto the floor. Hissing, Sam glances up at the intruder.

Rufus stands over them, brow arched wryly. “No more games, you two,” he orders, “you were supposed to start cleaning a half-hour ago.” He kicks the bucket filled with supplies near Dean’s chair, almost toppling it over. It wobbles, sound echoing around them. “Get to it,” Rufus says, walking away, “And when you’re done, do a full inventory check.”

“Rufus!” Dean yells at his retreating figure, “You know I restock her after every call!”

“You think that makes a difference? Full inventory check – and I want the report on my desk.” Rufus ends the conversation, bounding up the stairs towards the second floor. Undoubtedly hiding away until the alarms blare and spurs them all into action.

Dean folds his arms across his chest, huffing. “Don’t know why we gotta wash her again,” he mutters, “I washed, dried, and detailed Baby this morning!”

“Yeah,” Sam says, gathering the cards again, “but we were out earlier, at that apartment fire?”

“We weren’t close enough for ash to get on her roof.”

“Then maybe he’s doing this because he caught you fooling around in her body the other night,” Sam reminds Dean, standing. He throws the box of cards at his brother, snickering at how he fumbles the catch. He places it down with a grumble. “Why you thought you’d get away with it…”

Dean rises, too, blush creeping up his neck past his blue, uniform collar. “I was making sure her vitals were okay, that’s all…”

It’s a poor excuse; they both know it. He grabs for the bucket’s handle, hiding from Sam’s condemnation. “Sure.” They shuffle out the break room into the apparatus bay, passing by their fellow teammates enjoying down time. “But hopefully you’ll think twice before playing doctor.”

“As if. I’m seeing her tonight. And,” Dean wiggles his fingers, grin wide on his face, “this time I’ll be helping her check for lumps on her breasts!”

“Gross, what are you – fourteen?”

“Dude, you’re just jealous…” Dean trails off as they pass the last fire truck and enter the ambulance territory. His face lights up in that special way when he catches sight of her, that eases the tension in his shoulders and injects more bounce in his step. No matter how much he might whine about caring for her, Sam knows Dean would gladly work overtime – has worked overtime – in keeping her in top shape. Their home away from home, where they travel the city helping those in need.

Dean knew her longer. Told stories about his assigned truck over dinners, in his free time, and whenever Sam had free time when studying for his exams. Sam never truly understood how an ambulance could leave such an impact on one man. Why he’d give her a nickname, and say it so fondly. It was a car. A means to and end. Drives them where they need and nothing more. But then Rufus chose Sam for his squad, made him and Dean partners.

Then it made sense. She wasn’t an ambulance. Baby – Dean’s affectionate nickname for her – was part of the team. The third member of their operation. Without her, they’d be ineffective. Once, after a gnarly crash that took Baby out of commission for a month while they repaired her, they drove another in the interim.

It didn’t handle right. Dean found the clutch sticking every now and then, the pedals squeaky. Sam’s response time doubled because he couldn’t remember where the necessary instruments were. Working inside that replacement was hell, and there were too many close calls.

When they saw Baby waiting, almost brand new, during their next shift, both he and Dean nearly broke down. Dean denies it, but he let a few tears slip free.

Luckily, since then, they haven’t been separated. Through squad rotations, disasters, and aging, none of them felt ready for retirement.

“Y’know,” Dean says, wiping at her front window. Sam on the other side, doing the same to her mirror. “I was wondering… how’d Baby look if she were painted black?”

“Black?” Sam asks, “Why black?”

“Dunno… it’d be cool, right?”

“It’d be ominous as fuck, Dean.” Sam’s lips pinch, holding back laughter. “How’d you feel if you were bleeding out and a large, black truck came speeding at you?”

Dean winces, picturing the image. “Yeah, okay… I get it.” He steps away from Baby, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “Still be cool, though.” Clapping, he looks at Sam. “So, do you want to do the inventory or should I?”

“Rufus was clearly talking to you when he said that.”

“But you’re the one who spends all his time back there. I should be calibrating the brakes, making sure her on-board systems are synced, y’know…”

Sam glowers, slapping her hood with another rag. “Dean, I am not doing your work for you.”

“But Sam –“!

Ringringringringringringringringringringring

The apparatus bay becomes awash in a flurry of activity. Firefighters scrambling from their posts, jumping into their uniforms. Both Dean and Sam scan the room as it seems like the entire building rushes for the exits.

Dean brushes a gentle hand across Baby’s hood. “Guess Rufus’ll have to wait for that inventory report.”

Sam agrees. The three of them have lives to save.

Earth-84b

Dean closes his eyes as the wind hits his face, savoring its caress. His feet push off the pedals, legs stretched straight while they roll down the hill. He can hear Sam’s ragged breathing in front of him, still cycling. “Dean,” he growls, “stop fooling around and help. A bicycle built for two means it needs two people to work it.”

“I know,” he says, “I’m the one who bought Baby. Not you.”

The curve of the hill flattens out, and Dean blinks his eyes open. He resumes pedaling, chasing the high that only comes from riding Baby with his brother on a perfect, summer day.

Earth-1 A-corn

Dean knows the human toy takes up space in his nest he could use for storing more nuts. The oblong piece of plastic serves no function and draws blank stares whenever other squirrels visit his nest. But he dares not throw it away.

Seeing the toy brings him as much joy as it did when he first laid eyes on it one afternoon, spying on little humans. Captivated him, put Dean under its spell. When the two were called back by an even larger human, Dean scurried forward. Sniffed it. Laid a paw on its wheel and spun it. Hearing the click and whir made him giggle. As the wheel’s spinning petered out, Dean came to a decision.

He carried the toy home, where it has become a part of his family. And every member of Dean’s family deserves a name.

So, he calls her Baby.

Earth-R0ck

“Where in the bloody hell can your brother be?”

Sam shrugs, spinning his drumsticks in hand. “I saw him chatting up that reporter from Rolling Stones on our way out from the venue…”

Crowley stops, pressing his phone against his shoulder. No doubt trying Dean’s number again. “Rolling Stone?” he hisses, “And why didn’t you stay with him?”

“Wasn’t that kind of interview…” Sam saw the glint in Dean’s eye, shifting back into his stage persona as he strode over towards the blonde with the press pass. She didn’t look too impressed with his brother, but Dean charmed stiffer lips. He only hopes his brother doesn’t bring her back to the bus for a quickie. Sam would prefer not being locked out in the bitter cold.

Like they are now.

“Why your brother insists on keeping the keys…” Crowley mutters, rolling his eyes. He holds his phone up once more, flicking it off with a heavy scowl. “I’m going to go find him. And if I have to see his naked ass, balls deep in this reporter, then I’m dropping you two as my clients.”

Sam calls to his departing figure. “No you won’t!” He chuckles at Crowley’s one-finger salute, watching the shorter British man enter the club.

A beat passes, drumming the air. If needed, he could wait there until Dean finishes or Crowley brings him back with blue balls. But he feels something land on his head. And another. Then, on his nose.

Snowflakes.

“Damn…”

The flurry shows no signs of stopping. Increasing with each passing minute. When white powder dusts his shoulders, Sam makes a decision. He rises, shaking snow off of him. “Sorry about this Baby,” Sam says, patting the section of their bus where her name was spray-painted, “but I’m gonna get a little handsy.”

This was not the first time Sam said this. Nor did what he does now. When the brothers were first starting out in their band, and all they had were their instruments and Baby, Dean had an abandonment issue. Finding fans in the audience and following them home, keys still on him as he wouldn’t let anyone drive Baby but him. If Sam couldn’t find his own bed for the night, then it’d be him and the asphalt.

Until he learned this neat little trick.

Sam wedges the backdoor open, easing it. Making sure the hinges don’t break. Assured Baby is fine, Sam starts shoving their equipment through. “How many years,” he growls, rolling his drum, “and I haven’t made a duplicate key yet?”

The drums were hard but loading Dean’s guitar takes seconds. Sam steps onto the bus, halfway in, when he hears his brother, “What did you do?”

He looks behind him. Dean, ruffled and fuming, stands next to an equally displeased Crowley. Sam smirks, fully lifting himself into the bus. “I got tired of waiting.” Shutting the door on Dean’s yelling, Sam settles in for a drive filled with shouting, cursing, and more shouting. If he’s lucky, he’ll be asleep soon.

Earth-1969

Dean’s grip on his wheel tightens, negativity surfacing despite the groovy music, chill vibes, and the sweet smell of grass that drifts about the cabin. “Seriously,” he mutters, watching another group of people traipse by from the driver’s seat, “we’ve been here for over an hour. How have we not moved yet?”

“Dude relax…” Sam chuckles from the back, sprawled across the shag carpeting they installed weeks before, gutting most of the van’s interior for greater mobility. Joint dangling out of his loose grip, “We’ll get there when we get there.”

“Easy for you to say…” He shifts his attention from behind to the traffic again. An inch of space opened, but Dean keeps their van stationary. Doesn’t expect a miracle like traffic clearing up any time soon. Dean sighs, dragging his legs up and onto the dashboard. Stretches out until his toes poke at the windshield. Reaching into the back, he curls his fingers. “Let me have some.”

“What’s the magic word, Dean?”

“Quit stallin’ – I bought the damn grass, Sammy!”

Sam pokes his head up, dropping the joint in his waiting hand. “It was please. You knew that.” He rests his chin near the other headrest, sighing. “Do you think you’ll be this pissy when we get there? Or will you let yourself enjoy the concert?”

Dean sucks down his hit, hissing a breath between clenched teeth. “I’m sure it’ll be a real gas, Sammy… if we ever get there.”

They’d been looking forward to this the entire summer. This being Woodstock. Three days of peace, love, music… and people. Too many people. Probably half the country, Dean thinks, taking another hit. All the other kids like Sam and Dean who traversed great lengths for a taste of freedom. Escaping from under the oppressive thumb of the man.

Their ‘man’ went by the name John Winchester. When he heard where the brothers were headed, he was anything but pleased; actually, he forbid them from leaving. Confiscated Dean’s keys and grounded them.

He did not go far enough, given how he and Sam idled a few miles outside Bethel. Dean stole back his Baby’s keys and left a little special treat for John. One good trip deserves another, and maybe once they return their father will be in a better mood. Groovier. More attuned with a higher plane of existence.

Although Dean wishes he kept some of that acid on him. Reaching a higher plane sounds pretty nice. Emptier, too.

“Hey,” Sam shakes him from his reflection, “look at what they’re doing!” He points past Dean, finger bending against the windshield near his feet. A car drives off the road and onto a nearby shoulder. It rolls to a stop, doors flung open as an entire tribe pours free. They gather their bags and join the crowds pouring through the cracks between cars. Like fish swimming upstream. Swimming home. “Maybe we should do that, too?”

Dean scowls, pushing Sam’s arm out of his way. “Like hell I’m abandoning Baby!”

“She’ll be fine, Dean. There’s no way she can get hurt here…” Sam drops both his hands on Dean’s bare shoulders, kneading the skin there. After taking the joint back from him, though, and biting on the end. “How can anyone get hurt – feel bad or… or do harm – when we’re this close to paradise?”

It’s a convincing argument. Dean resists being swayed easily, however.

He cannot leave Baby on her own. Not after everything they’ve been through. Not the first real thing that is his.

Dean spotted her on his twentieth birthday. Taking a break from work, bumming a joint from his co-worker Ash, they watched Bobby haul in a wrecked van with his rusty tow. She creaked and groaned, sparks trailing behind as her bumper scraped the ground. Ash nudged him, chuckling, “She’s a piece of work, ain’t she?”

He agreed, for a different reason. Time stretched at that moment, seconds passing like days. Dean felt a powerful force shake the core of his very being, Bobby bringing her close enough that his gaze caught both her headlights. She called out.

And he answered.

“It’s not like she’ll be doing good, sitting out there – collecting dust with the other scrap,” he argued. Paced Bobby’s office, fingers twitching through his hair while detailing all the reasons he deserved the wrecked van. “And you can take out whatever parts I use in repairing her from my pay. Hell, I can work on her overtime and you don’t have to give me shit.”

Bobby steepled his fingers together, slouching in his chair. Face impassive while he absorbed Dean’s rambling. His silence exacerbated his nerves, Dean tasting copper from how hard he bit his lips. Finally, Bobby sighed. “I was gonna use her for scrap,” he says, standing, “but if you can get the ol’ gal working… she’s yours. Besides, ‘bout time you had something other than that pansy ass bicycle you got.”

“Thank you, Bobby, thanks…” Emotion swelled from within, Dean at a loss for words. Instead, he threw his arms around his boss, squeezing him tight. “Thank you.” Jumping off, he fled the room. “I promise, she’ll be perfect!”

That began a beautiful, but maddening, relationship.

She was on his mind all the time. If Dean were working on another car, he wondered if she would need the same maintenance. While eating dinner, he thought about the many joints he could swing by for a quick bite. A few times, while in the throes of LSD, he envisioned her appearing in front of him. Honking, revving an engine he hadn’t fixed – her ways of communicating. During one of these trips, she told him her name.

“Baby?” Sam asked, sitting on the ground a few feet from where Dean worked. Pencil in hand, midway through a sketch. “She told you her name was Baby?”

Dean poked his head out the hood, wiping at sweat camping above his brow. “Yeah. I mean… don’t know why I didn’t see it before. She looks like a Baby, y’know?”

“Whatever.” Sam continued drawing, bangs falling over his face, “Hey, you think you can get her working by Sunday night? Heard there’s a party downtown, and the band they booked will be far out.”

“Maybe if you lend a hand?”

Sam ignored Dean’s pleas for help. Dean carried on, not expecting an answer. His brother never had the talent for cars like he did. Honed under Bobby’s gruff tutelage. He left his mark on Baby in his own way, painting a psychedelic landscape across her body after the mechanics and interior were finished.

Together, they brought new life to a magnificent beauty. She repays them by delivering them where they need.

Which, if they left her now, would be like a betrayal. Baby had already been cast aside once, on her deathbed. Dean cannot leave her. Even if the first day of Woodstock arrives and they were still in this same place.

“Dean…”

“I can’t, Sam,” Dean winces, fiddling with his pendant. Shifts, feet on the pedals again. “I just… yeah, nothing should happen. Can’t help think that…” He trails off, gazing out the window. Thoughts disappearing, burned up from the radiant light of an angel who deigned catch his stare.

He’s gorgeous. Mussed, raven hair, blue eyes tinged red from grass, and a frumpy, suede jacket marked with scratches and scuff marks. The man briefly passes the door, one of the many walking. He smiles, then carries on conversing with his friend.

Sam waves a hand in front of Dean, breaking the connection. “Dean?” he asks, “Hey, hey Dean? You okay there? …This was some weak shit, brother, shouldn’t hit you too bad.”

“What? No… it wasn’t – wasn’t the grass, dude.”

“Then what?”

“I…” Dean tries finding his angel, sees him being swallowed by others. Soon he’ll be gone. And it’d be in fates hands whether they meet again. Unless…

Suddenly the song on the radio fades, replaced by another. It’s one Dean doesn’t recognize; the station name is as unfamiliar. At some point the signals must have switched, a notorious problem Baby has. He listens as the melody begins, building to the chorus. The chorus plays, and Dean knows. And he smiles.

Dean pulls over, shifting into park. Sam tumbles from the sudden jerk, “What are you doing?”

“Parking, Sam. Don’t you know?” He takes the keys, shoving them in his pocket. “We’re gonna walk the rest of the way.”

Sam blinks, smoke creeping past his lips. “Why the change of heart?”

“It’s like the song, Sam… everything’s gonna be all right!” Dean hops out of Baby, Sam clambering alongside him through the side door. “Come on, let’s get going!”

“What about our stuff?”

“We’ll come back for it later – come on.” He drags his brother off the grassy patch and onto the hot pavement. The fleeting regret of not grabbing his shoes flits by, feet burning with every step, but he grows accustomed soon enough. They enter the meandering pack, Dean looking back at Baby one last time.

She waits there, encouraging him forward. Always.

Earth-G00-g4

Sammy rocks with the motion of this strange, red box he’s sat in, crawling along slowly. Older brother Dean grunting as he tugs on the handle. “We’re almoth there, Thammy,” he says, stopping, the bright red box rolling into his legs. Jostling Sammy as it stops. “Juth a few more blockth.” Dean looks behind at him, bright smile encouraging one on Sammy’s face. He gurgles and claps his hands together, bouncing. “That’s right! Get pumped! If we’re gonna take down those monthers, we’ll need t’be ready!”

He has no concept of what Dean means when he talks about ‘monthers’. But from what he gleans, Sammy thinks it’s a game they’ll be playing. Reinforced as he notices the busted fire hydrant they always pass when visiting the park with Mommy.

Vibrating now, Sammy shakes the red box. Babbling, going on about how excited he is for whatever game Dean thought up.

Dean gnaws on his lip with the one front tooth still in his mouth. “Careful with Baby, Sammy… you’re gonna tip her over!”

Earth-10k

“…with state-of-the-art tracking upgrades, undetectable weapons systems, and the most fuel-efficient engine the geniuses in R&D spent weeks agonizing over,” Dean slaps the roof of the pale teal smart car parked among rows of sleek, shiny, luxury vehicles, “Baby Number Twenty-Three is prepped and ready for our next hunt.”

Sam snorts, raising his glass in celebration. “That’s all well and good, Dean… but can we still get NPR?”

“Still get NPR?” Dean giggles, lips stretched in a tight, droll grin. “Samuel, the dashboard computer has an entire library filled with NPR’s back catalogue that we can listen to without a signal.”

“Good. Then we won’t be stuck listening to classic rock like during our last stakeout.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m still trying to scrub my memory of the awful noise.”

“Took me three hours with some freeform jazz. Why don’t we put that on while we finish up this bubbly?”

Dean agrees, leaning through the window and hitting a button. Saxophones, trumpets, and an enchanting snare drum pour from the speakers. He sighs, leaning back out. “Now this… this is music.”

Sam reaches across the roof, tipping his glass. “Here, here.” Dean brings his own glass close. Clink!

Earth-783

Baby’s retired, but still loved. Hangs proudly on a wall between framed photographs of a young John Winchester, standing beside her on the beach with medals draped around his neck. Taken down whenever she loses her luster, and either Dean or Sam wax the shine back on her sleek, black wood.

Years after John’s death, no one takes her on the waves. Out of respect: for her, their father, and the bond they shared. Nothing more sacred than the love of a surfer and his board. They own a variety of boards – collected them. Beautiful boards, expensive ones, and the special few that have earned the brothers trophies, medals, and titles.

But there will only be one Baby.

Earth-2390.45

Sam waits by the open hangar doors, two beers in hand. Charlie stands nearby, binoculars held in shaky hands. “He’s cutting it a bit close, isn’t he?”

“This is Dean we’re talking about,” he tells her, “you know how he gets when he’s up there.”

“But he radioed in he was almost out of fuel! And that the left wing felt loose, and -”

“He’ll be fine,” Sam says, nudging her. Charlie looks away from the skies, glaring at him. He offers her one of the beers. “You know it. How many times has he flown her?”

She sighs, taking the drink. “Practically all his life…” Sipping at it, she frowns. Gestures wildly with her binoculars. “Still, I feel like recently he’s been taking too many risks. Making things more difficult than he needs!”

“Maybe he has,” Sam shrugs, “maybe it’s gotten boring, doing the same thing day in and out. So what if he bends the rules a little.”

“It matters when he could crash!”

“No, Dean wouldn’t go that way.” Sam smiles, Baby’s shape growing as she descends. Silhouette sharpening, engine growing louder. “He might be pushing his limits. Seeing how he can handle different situations… but we both know how much he loves that plane. Dean’d never do anything that puts her in jeopardy.”

Charlie hums. “I… guess your right.”

“Although,” he amends, grinning at her. Baby skidding to a stop on the runway, advancing towards them, “you can definitely chew him out for all that, too.”

Earth-200

Day after day, it’s the same routine. Sam and Dean return to their trailers at around four o’clock. They strip out of plaid shirts and denim, leaving their boxers and – if they were wearing them before – tanks on. For the next two hours, the brothers drift throughout the trailer while getting ready. Still undressed, powdering and painting their faces. Sometimes interrupted, like when one of their friends stops by for some quick gossip. Or Cas the fire swallower stops by, flirting with Dean as Sam perfects the curve of his eyebrow. If that runs long Sam will shoo him away with his wig, dragging Dean from the door.

It’s one of those nights.

“I don’t know why you won’t do anything,” Sam chuckles, fitting the rainbow curls over his head, “You two’ve been in love since we were kids.”

Dean’s glare shines through his reflection, although the massive red make-up smeared across his lips and fake tears under his eyes reduce the effect. “Shut up,” he says, applying more rouge, “it’s not… he wouldn’t be interested in me like that. ‘Sides, his dad is our boss. Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“I think it’d be awkward if you didn’t,” he says, “if he’s anything like our folks, Bobby’s already planning your wedding.”

“Shut up…”

Sam adds the last touch, adhering his bulbous red nose with some glue. He studies his face in the vanity mirror, checking for any mistakes. There’s none. Years of practice meant his mind could wander aimlessly but his hand will ensure a clean, finished mask every time. A mask for the people. A mask of his heritage. A mask that transforms Sam Winchester into Sammy the Angry Clown, straight man of the Campbell Duo.

Odd how, when he was younger, Sam never imagined a life like this. Like the one his parents’ imagined for him. Fought them at every turn, even applying for college. To become a lawyer. “A clown without the joy,” his dad called it.

But that’s the past. Now, he’s climbing into his multi-colored pantsuit and stuffing his large feet into even larger shoes. Dean does the same, handing Sam some ruffles while he searches the trailer for his shoes. “Do you know where I put them?”

“Check the chest,” Sam says, “I might’ve thrown them in there while cleaning.”

“Why were you cleaning?”

“To practice my unicycle.” Sam grabs some bowling pins stacked beside their sofa. “I didn’t want to trip over them and crash through the window… again.”

Dean snorts, digging through the chest per Sam’s instructions. “That was your own fault. Wasn’t my magazine left splayed open on – found ‘em!” He pulls the floppy shoes free, waving them around. His accomplishment doesn’t last. Dean notices that the sole peels around the toe box, and by poking at the tear he rips it further. “Dammit… I’m gonna look like one of those hobo clowns.”

“Why don’t you wrap some duct tape around your shoe,” Sam tells him, rising. “You’d still look like a hobo, but you won’t scare any kids with your funky feet.”

“Funny. What are you… a clown?”

“Takes one to know one, Dean!” Sam opens their trailer door, stepping outside, “I’m gonna go make sure our act’s ready. Why don’t you find me when you’re done getting ready?” Dean yells at him, Sam missing it as he lets the door slam behind him – cutting his brother off.

He traipses through the field towards the main tent, nodding along whenever someone passed. Never staying for a conversation. The other acts and crew could see he was busy, juggling the bowling pins. Always practicing, always perfecting. Dedication to the craft both embedded in his DNA and taught early on. Gifts his parents gave.

Like this. A small, yellow bug splattered with multi-colored spots and with multiple dents along her body. Her name messily scrawled on the driver’s side door – Baby. His father’s car, that he and his mom would perform in when they still clowned. The only thing John had of his father, that he passed on after hanging up the big, red shoes.

Sam slows his juggling, catching the third pin on its last arc. He shuffles the trio into one hand while he lifts the trunk with his other. The rest of their supplies lie in wait, left in usual chaotic dysfunction. Dropping the pins, Sam mentally checks off each part of the routine as he inspects the props.

Dean arrives halfway through, Sam handing off the giant, flake flower. He accepts it, pinning it on his tie. “Is it full?”

“Yep,” Sam helps feed the tube through his collar, watching Dean tug it down until the pump sits at his wrist. Dean’s fingers twitch. “Don’t even think about it. Save it for the act.”

“You’re no fun.”

“That’s the act, isn’t it?” Sam chuckles, closing Baby’s trunk. “Or is your memory getting spotty in your age?”

Dean rolls his eyes, shoving lightly at Sam. Sam responds in kind, nearly knocking Dean into some elephant dung no one cleaned up. He leans on Baby while he cackles, fighting the tears threatening to spill over. A nice distraction comes from Dean, who rams into his side. They streak over Baby, rolling off her and onto the hay-covered floor. Struggling, drawing the attention of everyone dawdling backstage.

They dirty their outfits some, but there’s enough time before the show starts. Sam expected some mishap, schedule built-in with extra time for unforeseen accidents or brotherly spats.

Day after day, it’s the same. He and Dean will cram into this tiny car, shoulders aching from how they press against each other. Packed in like sardines. Waiting for the musical cut that will send them into the ring. They’ll circle and circle while the audience claps, stopping when the tiny amount of gas in Baby’s tank runs dry. Then their long legs will unfold, stepping out under the spotlight.

The act begins, and Sam cannot fathom a life without the roar of the crowd, his brother by his side, and their family’s chariot. Without laughter.

Earth-4499

Providence seems more a dream than an actual destination. Especially after they sacrificed one of their oxen for meat, their reserves dangerously low.

“Don’t worry, Sam,” Dean says, rubbing his shoulder, “we still got the other. And Baby. We’ll be in Oregon by November!”

Sam doubts that, the fall chill cutting through their thin button-downs. His temperament was not aided by an earlier stumble in some mud, robbing him of dry shoes. Right now, he bundles another blanket around his bare feet; shuddering a ghostly breath while Dean whips the ox forward.

Baby, their large Conestoga, might look sturdy. But her wheels creak more with each passing day. From an outsider’s perspective, she looks safe. They would be shocked hearing how, when fording a river, she tipped. Brothers nearly drowning under her weight. She might appear warm. But Sam’s frostbitten fingers and red nose prove its faults.

Dean wouldn’t part with her for a better model, however. “She’s family, Sam,” Dean says, “When ma and pa set forth, all they had was her. We’ll do the same.”

Sentimentality might be their downfall. Soon, Baby won’t be a wagon. Nor will she be a reminder of their home. Baby will be their coffins.

Sam sneezes, and hopes it’s the only one for the day. His rumbling stomach already offers its own worries.

Earth-92

Days like these Dean wishes he kept working. Jack kept kicking his seat, an arrhythmic pattern that forces his lips into a stern frown. And between his crying and Claire’s complaining, Dean misses most of what his husband says. “Can you please repeat that?” he asks, spinning the dial towards its highest setting.

“I said,” Cas’s voice booms, Dean wincing from the sound, “That the doctor called my cell. He was able to fit me in Saturday at four. You’re not using the car, then, right?”

“No, I –“

“Jack! Stop it, you can’t have my phone while I’m using it!”

“I wanna turn! I wanna turn!”

“One moment…” He eases the brake pedal, slowing before the red light. Then, Dean whips around to face his children. “Jack, Claire, can you please keep the volume down while your pop and I are talking?”

Claire huffs, leaning forward. Out of Jack’s reach, his youngest straining in the car seat for her phone. She types on it, not looking at him. “Tell that to Jack. I’m talking with Alex.”

“Won’t you be seeing her in five minutes anway?”

“It’s important –“

Someone honks from behind them. Dean checks the traffic light, seeing green instead of red. “Shi-shoot.” He switches pedals, watching the road again. “Claire, give Jack one of his toys and put your phone away.”

Claire groans, stomping her foot. “Why should I?”

“If he can’t see it, he won’t want it.” After a moment’s silence, Dean checks the rearview mirror. She disobeys him, still using it. “Claire, I swear if you don’t put that away I’m driving us home.”

“But dad –“

“Don’t ‘but dad’ me, baby girl. Away.” Tone stern, he glimpses her shove the phone in her gym bag. Then grabs a dropped toy nearby. Dean sighs, focusing ahead of him – and on his husband. “Sorry about that.”

“No need,” Cas chuckles, papers shuffling in the background, “I enjoy it when you’re the bad cop. It doesn’t happen every day…”

“Because I hate it,” he grumbles, checking his blind spot while switching lanes, “so when you get home, ground Claire.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Make one up, and then I can talk you out of punishing her and be the good cop again.”

“Dads, you know I can hear you, right?”

“Quiet sweetie, adults are talking!” Dean hits his blinkers, making the left turn when appropriate. “So, the doc’s got you coming in that late? Is it important?” Nerves make his voice crack on the last word, and Dean hates how it does.

Cas hums from the other end, Dean imagining his husband’s pinched expression while he chooses his words carefully. To not worry him. “She mentioned something cholesterol. I think she wants to see me about my diet.”

“If that’s all,” Dean says, drumming his fingers along the wheel, “you better not sell me down the river.”

“I’ll try not to, but if she asks why I eat an abnormal amount of sweets I’ll have to be honest.” Cas laughs, Dean’s chest warming from the volume. At this volume, it feels like the soundwaves wrap him in a warm blanket. “Oh, I have to go. Your brother’s pointing at his watch from outside my office. I think we’re supposed to have a meeting?”

“Then what are you still doing on the phone?”

“Telling you and Jack and Claire that I love you. All of you. And Claire, good luck at practice today!”

“Thanks, dad!”

He hangs up, Dean lowering the volume before the radio comes back and deafens them. Unfortunately, he wishes it would. Because as Cas disappeared, his children’s bickering started up again. Jack upset that Cas didn’t wish him ‘good luck’. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t taking a karate class, nor comprehended what the concept of luck was. Claire received well wishes, he didn’t, and that is what he took away from the call.

They worked Dean’s last nerve. His vision blurred from the stress, Jack’s tantrum doubling in its fury. He drove on autopilot, too busy keeping calm. Finally, after Jack’s figure was thrown and hit the front windshield, Dean felt the straw rip. At the next red light, Dean acted.

“That’s it,” he turned, leaning into the second row. Claire and Jack stopped fighting immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. Dean must look crazed, but he cannot care enough to soften his features. Their fighting ripped off the warm blanket Cas’s voice provided, and he was chilled from the sudden exposure. “You two will sit quietly for the rest of the ride, otherwise when we get home it’s dinner and nothing else. Got it?” Claire nods sullenly, Jack fighting tears welling under his eyes. Dean’s heart seizes seeing his son upset, and that helps break frenzy fogging his senses. “I’m sorry for blowing up like that,” Dean says, calmer, “but when daddy’s behind the wheel he needs to concentrate. Otherwise people can get hurt. We could get hurt. And nothing would make me feel worse than if either of you kids were hurt because of me. I love you both too much to let that happen, okay? So please… be good?”

“Okay, daddy…” Jack sniffles, wiping at his eyes, “sorry…”

“Thank you, Jack.”

Dean retakes the wheel as the light turns green. It’s a block from Claire’s dojo, Dean readying his blinker. When he hits the gas, however, the car stays still.

By the time he realizes that, a semi-truck speeds through the intersection. Blowing its red light. Dean chokes back his curse, cars honking around him.

“Dad?” Claire asks, pitching forward in her seat, “Dad, what happened?”

“The uh… the car…” Dean steps on the gas pedal again, working now. He slowly inches through, drifting towards the first open space he finds. When parked, Dean’s composure fractures completely. Shattering into dust that piles in the footwell.

They were almost… that truck – it’s idiot driver – almost totaled their car. Did the very thing he warned Jack and Claire about. Images of bent metal, crumpled bodies, and blood cause the bile in his stomach to threateningly react. He squeezes his eyes, breathing deep until those pictures are replaced with soothing blankness. Counting, using the tricks his therapist imparted after his last big crash all those years ago. Getting his mind off the what could have happened and onto what did.

He’s safe. His kids, Claire and Jack, they’re safe. The car is –

The car. Dean hit the gas pedal but it didn’t budge.

At the dealer, when Dean searched for a new car after his old lease was up, the salesman hyped up all the new features. Sam listened with a skeptical ear, always asking questions. The right ones. Ones that made Dean feel smarter about his choices. He was in the car, too, with Dean and John. That fateful night.

“And this new safety feature?” Sam asked, dragging his hand along the black hood, “how exactly does it work?”

The salesman pointed at the front bumper. “It’s got built in sensors that are connected to the dashboard system. If it detects any danger, it can react faster than a human could. So if you and your husband –“

“Brother.”

“Right, brother, sorry, were driving –“

“This is his car. Not mine.”

“Well… if he’s driving, and he’s distracted because of something. And doesn’t see a pedestrian coming. Maybe a kid chasing a ball into the street… the car would stop for him.”

Dean knew which car he was leasing, then. Waiting for the sales pitch to wrap up so he can sign the three-year contract. A year in, though, Dean might screw the lease and buy the car fully. Make her the last Baby they ever get.

The Baby that survived.

Earth-32

Sam slams on the wheel, cursing as their car sputters off the road and onto untouched gravel. “No! No no no…”

“Sam!” Dean turns in his seat, gun still smoking. “Why’d you stop?”

“I didn’t,” he tells his brother, punching the wheel. It honks, rolling somewhat. Inching forward. “Damn car’s broken.”

Dean scowls, gun tilting dangerously towards him. “Don’t you talk about Baby like that.”

If there were time, Sam would calmly tiptoe through an apology while explaining what he meant in a manner Dean’s sensitive ego would appreciate. Unfortunately, Sam can hear the sirens approaching. And dust from the barren plains rides the gust, stinging his eyes. Compound his irritation from Baby’s fit. Meaning he accepts Dean’s twitching trigger finger without worry. “I don’t think we’re getting out of this.”

“Yes we are,” Dean says. He shoves the gun at Sam, jerking a thumb behind him. “Switch with me. She just needs a more practiced hand s’all.” While rounding the dark grey Ford, Sam stares into the distance. Red and blue flash, appearing over the curve. Dean ignores them, whispering for only his Baby. “I knew I should’ve been at the wheel. Even if it meant we were cutting it close.” Sam enters as Dean tries the ignition again.

Baby coughs, struggles, and then falls silent.

“No,” Dean groans, anger heavying his tone, “don’t be mad at me, girl. It’s me. Ol’ Dean…”

Sam thinks up a silent prayer. Sends it off in case there were angels listening. “Dean,” he says, laying a hand on his brother.

“We’ll be okay,” he lies, grin laughable despite how hard he tries. “We’ve been in worse scrapes before… always got out. Just another story for the news to run s’all. Winchester Brothers escape once more with their spoils, baffling pig cops and the king of sows himself, Ness…” Dean keeps up turning the keys. She doesn’t even feign a response at this point.

“Dean.” Sam tears Dean’s hands away. They’re shaking. Or maybe he is. Both of them are, knowing what waits them in the next few minutes. “It’s okay.”

Dean stares at his lap, tears threatening to spill. Like all his life, Dean reels them back before they can fall. “You think this was how we were gonna go out?”

“Always feared it might happen,” Sam admits, checking the ammunition in Dean’s tommy. Half-spent. “But I guess it’s par for the course when you do what we do. Did you?”

“No,” he shrugs, “even know it doesn’t feel… real, y’know? How could this happen to us? Dean and Sam – they called us the Untouchables. We’re fucking legends.”

“Maybe we weren’t the legends we thought, then.” A depressing thought that makes Dean slump further into his seat. Sam can see the sirens without turning his head, cars skidding in their approach surrounding them. He reaches for his gun, past the bags of money, and tosses it. Dean catches the heavier weapon. “But if we are… let’s hope there’s truth in that saying. About legends never dying.”

“Winchesters!” a deep, gravelly voice shouts from outside. Eliot Ness no doubt. “Come out with your hands up! If you make this easy on yourselves, I promise we can put you up in a nice pad behind bars where you belong!”

Dean looks past Sam out the window. Probably at Ness, himself. Meeting his stare. A tension existed there that went far beneath their professions and duties. He glances at Sam, “At least we’re going together.”

“Let’s give ‘em hell.”

Sam fires two shots as he exits the car. Dean barely opened the driver’s side door. Bullets rained upon them like a maelstrom, piercing them. Turning them into dust like that which they came from.

It comes in moments. Sam being held in Dean’s arms as their farmhouse burnt in front of them, mother lost. A drunk father who could barely raise a decent crop when America thrived. Days and days spent with a nose buried in books. When he took breaks from those, Dean made sure he lived life. Swimming in creeks, riding horses. Asking girls on dates after his brother talked him up.

Loans on the family property eating away at his father, more than the booze ever did. Burying him in a shallow plot near their mother. Losing the farm, thumbing across the country alongside every other victim of this Depression.

The hunger, the sleeplessness – the bank manager with poor temperament and slippery fingers. Their first robbery. So unpracticed, he and Dean only found their getaway car after committing the crime. Stealing her, too.

She was more than a car, though. She was home when the heat was scalding, and getting a room risked their lives. She was a symbol, of Dean and Sam, of their notoriety. She was their friend, helping them sort through issues.

Fitting, that when she died, so did they.

He blinks, feeling lightheaded. Body sluggish from blood loss. A shadow steps forward, bending, revealing Ness’s tanned face. Ness removes his hat, scanning Sam’s limp figure.

“Seemed a lot taller in the reports…”

Earth-81a

Dean polishes Baby’s handles one last time, loving how she glints in the sunlight. He rocks on his heels until gravity tips him over, forcing him onto his ass. Leans back, hands resting on asphalt as he pulls his knees towards his chest.

“Hey,” Sam calls, “who said you were done?”

He ignores his brother, staring at his beautiful Baby. “I am done, Sammy,” he drawls, “look at her… she can’t get any more perfect.”

Sam scowls, rag draped over Baby’s sidecar window. “Why don’t you help with this, then?”

“No way,” Dean chuckles, “not how it works. Y’know the rules: whoever rode Baby last cleans Baby, and sidecar…”

“Cleans sidecar…” Sam finishes, dunking the rag in a nearby bucket. Water sloshes and spills from the force of it. “Dumb rule though,” he mumbles, “especially when you purposefully drove through that mud pit.”

He grins, “There was no avoiding it!”

It’s not the truth, but neither feel the need to expose it.

Dean spotted the mud while idling at a red light, Sam busy scrolling through his tablet. Reading about a possible case in Texas, where hikers were washing ashore with holes in their chests. Construction went on nearby, piling the mud as they excavated a water-logged field.

He took a detour. Drove particularly close, waving at the construction workers while doing so. Sam yelped, frozen, mud sloshing against the sidecar. Some spilling into his lap and coating his sleeve. Then Dean sped past, hiding his laughter with Baby’s engine. Gaze pulled from the road every few seconds as Sam’s disgust proved too distracting.

Served him right, though. Dean balanced the scales, retribution for when Sam glued a suggestive sign on his helmet when he sat in the sidecar. Only realizing when they stopped for lunch three states deep.

“Why’d you do that,” he hissed, crumpling the notecard in his shaking fist; ‘I DO ANAL’ unintelligible from his strangling.

“What?” Sam poorly hid his pride behind a milkshake, shoulders shaking, “It’s not wrong.”

Dean spent longer than expected sifting through memories. Wading out of his mind, he sees Sam standing. “You done?”

“No,” he says, picking up the bucket, “but I’m tired. Think I’m gonna take a nap.”

Nodding, Dean focuses on Baby again. Drawing him from her was hard, especially after cleanings. “Dump that then, since you’re done.”

“Okay…”

Splash! Cold water races down his shirt, fabric sticking. He shudders a harsh breath, gasping from the shock of both the water and Sam’s action. His jaw hangs open, Dean slowly turning his head. Sam above with a terrible smile on his face. Innocent in name only. “You…”

“Have fun with that, Dean!” He drops the bucket, scurrying for the motel room. Dean jumps, sliding somewhat from the suds. A tiny obstacle that impacts him greatly, Dean reaching Sam when the motel door closes. Slamming against it, Dean bangs and bangs.

“Sammy! You open that up!”

“Sorry, Dean, I can’t hear you! I’m sleeping!”

Minutes seem like hours, Dean pounding the door until he gives up. Slinks back, defeated. Seeking comfort in a familiar shape.

He stretches across Baby’s seat, careful of his still-dripping clothes. Dean caresses her front light, sight, “Sam’s a big ol’ meanie… leaving him high and wet out in the cold… what are we gonna do to him next?”

Earth-406

It’s simple work, but it’s good work. It’s their work.

“Help me with this,” Dean says, motioning Sam over. His brother adjusts his cap, tucking flyaway back under while he crosses the deck. Dean, bent, fingers slipping on the heavy net, breathes a sigh of relief when Sam latches on. “Three, okay? One… two… three.”

They haul their catch over the edge, fish fighting the entire time. Their hands were whacked with tails and bit by snapping jaws, but they stayed firm. Pulling the rest of their haul up until all the fish flopped and died.

“Whoa…” Sam wipes his brow, picking up one of the fish, “these are huge. You sure Cas didn’t find this place near a toxic waste dump?”

Dean huffs, “Maybe they’re on whatever diet’s made you so big and strong?” Sam shoves at him, nearly forcing him off the boat as his foot slips. The fish underneath him taking revenge. He grabs Baby’s edge, catching himself. “Keep laughing, Sammy,” Dean drawls, glaring at his brother, “but how funny would it’ve been if I fell overboard and you had to do this all by yourself?”

“You’d’ve just gotten wet, drama queen.” Sam clears fish away with his feet, pushing them into piles they can easily manage. “Now quit playing around. We’ve got to get these packed away before they spoil. Otherwise this whole trip’d been a waste.”

He rolls his eyes but does as instructed.

Packing fish into Baby’s large cooler went by fast, Dean’s autopilot guiding him. Dean and Sam could do this while sleeping, so comfortable with these tasks. Having been on the sea since they were little, helping their father work on his boat. They did their homework on Baby, played on Baby, and when John took her far beyond usual paths, slept in Baby.

When he grew too old, he passed her onto those he knew would treat her right. Those who can uphold the family business. Men who have been fishing for all their lives.

It’s simple work, but it’s good work. It’s their work.

Earth-0

Sal finds his irritation fading when he sees his brother, Dean, stride towards a familiar car. “Dude,” he says, eyes widening in shock, “is that -?”

“Yep,” Dean answers, stroking his hand lovingly across her hood, “I’m glad you didn’t forget Baby.”

How could he? They both grew up in her, the blue 1965 Mustang the only home Sal ever knew. Staring at her, a million questions sprout like weeds in his mind. What’s she doing here? Why does she look this good? Is the army man he lost years ago still stuck in her ashtray? Of all those thoughts, Sal voices only one. “Dad lets you drive her?”

“He gave her to me,” he tells Sal, opening the driver’s side door. “Now come on, we can talk more about her while we’re on the road. Longer we drag our feet, the more likely dad’s in danger…”

It’s not great motivation for Sal, but he slides in without a fight. Brushing his thumbs on the leather seating, he pushes thoughts of his father to the back of his mind. Instead thinking about all the good memories; those he has of Baby, and coincidentally, of Dean.

Earth-1

Sam winces, Dean advancing too close in his tirade. “Okay, okay… sheesh. It was only a question. I didn’t mean to threaten the weird relationship you have with your car.”

Dean relaxes somewhat, shoulders still tense. He drains his beer in a single gulp, fingers flexing against the glass bottle. Given enough time, left alone, he can unwind once more. Although a thought strikes Sam that makes him risk his brother’s temper. Teasing too tempting.

“Y’know,” he chuckles, sliding his beer across the table. Back and forth. “Maybe in one universe, Baby isn’t a car. Maybe Baby’s a person. And that Dean and that Baby are finally fucking –“

“Sammy…” The slight edge of warning underlying his voice should give Sam a good idea as to the line he treads. “Don’t you…”

“Or does Baby being human even matter to you?”

“That’s it!”

Sam jumps out of his seat, avoiding Dean’s flailing hand. Flees while his brother climbs over the table, spilling what little remained of his beer. He hears his pounding footsteps after him, audible even though his own cackling bounces off the walls.

“Sam! Dean –“ They pass Cas and Jack, having hurried when hearing the commotion. Sam keeps moving, the distance between him and Dean lessening with each breath. How, Sam doesn’t know. Of the two, Dean’s only form of exercising aside from fighting monsters was running his mouth. But that’s definitely his hand brushing his shoulder. Dean urged on by pride, and the need to defend his Baby’s armor.

He makes a sharp left, skidding. Dean slams into the wall. Sam looks behind, briefly, spotting his brother’s fierce glare and tempered smile. “I’m gonna get you, Sammy!” he shouts, barreling towards him, “And when I do…”

They shoot out into the garage. Sam runs for safety, finding Baby. Dean follows.

Circling her, they take turns gasping for breath. They feel young – younger than ever. Decades worth of trauma shaved off, wrinkles smoothening, and souls lighter like when they were children. Hell, Heaven… Lucifer, Michael, and Chuck… all distant, fading dreams too impossible for reality.

Soon, Dean’s irritation fades. He forgets why he chased Sam into the garage. Sam notices the brighter mood of his brother but doesn’t needle him further.

Why spoil such a rare moment? Another good memory for Sam, Dean, and Baby.

Our Baby.

#supernatural #spn #spn15 #dean winchester #sam winchester #baby the impala #supernatural fanfic #castiel #destiel #deancas #15x13 destiny's child #supernatural coda

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chaoticgremlinwholikescheese · 4 years

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CHAPTER 17

JACK’S POV:

“Merry christmas!” Race shouts. The boys cheer, their faces bright. The building is freezing, but none of us feel it. The presents sit under the tree, hastily wrapped in newspaper and butcher paper. The tree is one we picked up off the street, but it’s perfect. It’s decorated with ornaments made out of buttons and bottle caps. The tree is lit by some candles nearby, the scent of the wax flowing through the air along with the pine.

The boys are clustered around the room. Some are chatting, some are playing cards. Katharine and Alex are sitting together talking about the last suffrage meeting they went to. The two of them talk non-stop now. It’s nice to see them getting along so well.

What's left of the food sits on the table. Davey brought some of his mom’s meatloaf, Katharine brought some of the fancy food from her house, Alex came with a batch of cookies, and the rest of us managed to scrounge up some sodas and snacks. It’s not the nicest feast, but it’s pretty damn good for a bunch of newsies.

“Hey, Les! Come over here! We need ya to place the star on top of the tree!” Finch shouts. Les runs over, a big smile on his face. Finch hands him the star, which is actually just a rusty piece of metal. He hoists Les onto his shoulders and holds him up as he places the star on the tree. “Looks perfect!” Alex shouts out.

“Presents time!” Specs yells. Everybody hurries to gather around the tree. “Les, you go first. You’re the youngest.” Albert hands him a small box and Les opens it. “My very own newsboy hat!” He proudly puts it on and it falls over his eyes. “Ah, you’ll grow into it.” Jojo says, slapping him gently on the back.

Little by little, gifts are exchanged. Crutchie gives everyone a pair of gloves that Alex helped him sew. They’re a little lumpy and a little threadbare, but they’re the best pair of gloves I have ever owned. Spot got Race a nice silver kazoo and Race got Spot a pair of brass knuckles. All of us pitched in to get Davey a brand new book from the book store. He started reading it immediately.

I got a new set of paint brushes, with real wooden handles. It’s perfect timing too, my old brushes were pretty much destroyed. Katharine receives one of those new fountain pens. It even has a silver tip. I saw some of the shops selling them on 11th.

Everyone is playing with their new gifts, exchanging thank yous and hugs. The energy in this room is tangible. Everyone’s hearts are glowing. “Hey Alex. Come up to the roof with me, I have something to give you.” I whisper. Alex and I grab our coats and climb up the fire escape, leaving the noise of the party below.

The night air is cold and our breath freezes into white clouds. I can hear cars and people moving below, the street lights tiny below us, like a reflection of the stars above us. The moon is almost full and it looks down on us. We sit on the edge of the roof, feet dangling over. It would be scary if we didn’t know that we had someone there to catch us if we fell.

“I know you don’t celebrate christmas, but I got you something anyway.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a small cardboard box. I hand it to her and she slowly opens it, tucking the box into the lid. Her mouth goes wide as she pulls out the necklace. “It’s the soda cap from our first date. I wanted to save it for something special.”

“Jack…” her voice is soft. She puts it on, gently holding the cap. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” She wraps me in a hug, giving me a long kiss.

“We should probably go back inside before they wonder where we went.” Alex says. I nod. We climb down together, coming back in through the window. It looks like no one noticed we were gone. They’re all still clustered around the tree.

“Oh! Look!” Jojo crows, pointing to the space above the window. I look up and see a thing of mistletoe hanging from the frame. “That wasn’t there before.” Alex mumbles. “Your welcome.” Katharine winks, crossing her arms. “C’mon, you hafta kiss! It’s the rules!” Mike shouts. I roll my eyes but I turn towards Alex.

She stands on her tip toes and we kiss. Everyone cheers and wolf whistles. I pull away and grab Alex’s hand, leading her over to the group. We join them around the tree. Alex leans her head on my shoulder and I wrap my arm around her.

I feel safe here, surrounded by my family. It’s odd and mismatched, but it’s the only family I could ever want. We’re definitely not perfect, we argue and fight. But in the end we always make up and get along. We know that we would fight for each other, that when one of us needs help we’ll be there. And that’s the only thing that really defines family.

#family doesn't break fic #jalex #jack x alex #jack x ofc #newsies #newsies fic

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mothers-little-pistols · 4 years

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Incorrect Quote Dump (1/?)

Warning, this post is so fucking long.

Thrill, writing in his diary: February twenty-eighth, 2020. Today I watched a crewmate fall and eat shit.

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Widow: GO TO BED! Kit: NO! Widow: JUST GO TO BED! IT'S TWO AM AND YOU CAN'T BE AWAKE THIS LATE IN THE ZONES! Kit: WATCH ME!

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Ghoul: So you all fucked up pretty badly. Good luck finding new tires for this thing. Kit: *scoff* I think the ones we have are fine for at least another fourty miles. Ghoul: *pointing to the blown-out tires that have all but shredded off the rims* You fucking fubar'd the tires on this and you think it can go for another fourty miles!? Toxin: *cackles* Kit: You both shut up.

[][][][][]

Jet: Wait a minute. Jet: Share...skill... Jet: *inhales* AA-

[][][][][]

Poison: So what exactly do you and your little band of assholes do? Kit: *looking at the chaos that is the Pistols* Tss...ooh...hard question...auh...?

[][][][][]

*after they find the Zone Four motel* Kit: *enjoying a cold shower for the first time in a while* Poison: *opens the door and walks in* Kit: Who the fuck's there? Poison: It's me, I have to piss. Kit: Ok, you do that. Try anything and I'll shoot you though. Poison: Whatever. *silence* Kit: Flush that toilet and I'll shoot you. *silence* *toilet flushes* Kit: *is sprayed with boiling hot water* POISON-

[][][][][]

Thrill: I am your God now! Bring me your virgins! Ghoul: What virgins? We're all sluts here. Jet: Who's 'we'? Ghoul: *points at Poison* Poison: Hey!

[][][][][]

Kobra: So what are we doing out here exactly? Poison: Kit wanted us to find something called the... Poison: *takes off glove and looks at smudged writing on hand* Poison: ‘ Hellements of Armony’.

[][][][][]

Toxin: *scurrying through The Zones* Squeedly-dee, stay out of the desert!

[][][][][]

Widow: So, ok, I go over to Poison's room. Here I was expecting their PC to have burned down because of all the decomposing moth carcasses in their CPU fan. But no. I was not that lucky.

[][][][][]

Kit: *drunk and draping herself into Kobra's arms* Oh doctor! What's the diagnosis? Kobra: *sighing and playing along* You're horny for Poison... Kit: Oh my! Horny for Poison, you say? Well, do you have a cure? Kobra: *dropping her and walking away* Yeah, leaving me the fuck out of this.

[][][][][]

Poison: *obviously drunk* BATTERY CITY! CAN SUCK! MY! D- Kobra: *slaps his hand over their mouth* And that's enough tequila for you. Poison: *muffled* LET ME SPEAK!

[][][][][]

Widow: Thots on Val Velocity? Poison: So Val has thots now. Kit: Crawling all over him like weevils. Jet: I think they're the Ultra Vs, actually.

[][][][][]

Widow: Why don't you listen to Cherri Cola's Poetry Corner and maybe you'll calm down.

[][][][][]

Poison: *is fucking dead* Thrill: Thrill: Wake up, piss boy.

[][][][][]

Toxin: Are you fucking stupid? Kit: How long have you been friends with me? Toxin: Three years? Kit: Am I stupid, Tox? Toxin: Maybe a little bit. Kit: It's ok, you can call me an idiot. Toxin: Yeah, you're a fucking dumbass.

[][][][][]

Widow: *after settling an argument* Court dismissed, bring in the dancing lobsters.

[][][][][]

Poison: Hold on. Poison: *leaves the motel and stands outside* Poison: *SCREAMS* Kit: Kit: I'm fucking that.

[][][][][]

Poison: FOR THE LAST TIME! Poison: STOP CALLING ME 'PISS JACKET'! Ghoul: IT SMELLS LIKE PISS! Poison: IT'S COLOGNE! Jet: Are you sure though? Poison: Ghoul: Jet: Poison: Fuck yourself.

[][][][][]

Kobra: Hey, Poison, check this out. Poison: *fiddling with their raygun* Hang on, I'm busy. Kobra: Hey, look at me. Poison: Give me a second. Kobra: I'm more important, give me attention. Poison: I said give me a God damn second. Kobra: I'm getting very upset. Poison: I don't give a fuck how upset you are. I said give me a second. Poison: *puts their raygun down* Hello, what is it? Kobra: *points to his helmet upside down on top of his head* I can balance a helmet on my head.

[][][][][]

Poison: *standing in Kit's doorway* I'm sad, can I lay on your floor for a sec?

[][][][][]

Jet: *standing outside* Don't you come in this room, Korse, I will dust your ass.

[][][][][]

Thrill: Party Piss Jacket Peepee Pants Penishead Poison, will you please come here? Poison: *>:(*

[][][][][]

Widow: Can I ask you something? Kit: What's good? Widow: Why are you such a whore? Kit: Drive sidestreet and get dusted.

[][][][][]

Kit: *yelling into the other room* Jet! Jet Star! Jet: *doesn't respond* Kit: Destroya damnit. Thrill: JETTY! Jet: *looks up* What? Kit: You wanna get food? Jet: Huh? Kit: Do you wanna obtain edible substances? Jet: What? Thrill: YOU WANT FOOD!? Jet: Oh, yeah, I do! Kit: Then come outside, there's an angel cake in the next Zone over! Jet: Make me. Thrill: SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET FOOD! Jet: Alright.

[][][][][]

Thrill: *flipping Kit off with both hands* Kit: Thanks, Thrill! *:D* Thrill: Fuck you! *:D*

[][][][][]

Ghoul: They broke it, they blew up the school, they own a trenchcoat, they have a gun- Poison: This started about Diamond accidentally stepping on my headphones.

[][][][][]

Kobra: I overheard Poison yelling at Toxin about banana bread and something about 'I've made a shitload of banana bread, don't you dare put that much sugar in it, it'll be grainy as shit-' Thrill: I think we should regulate humans...with guns...

[][][][][]

Toxin: Skibidefuck!

[][][][][]

Kobra: *takes off his helmet* Toxin: He looks like a baby. He looks like a literal infant. I wanna caress his cheek and put him in a crib and sing him lullabies. FF and MLP: Toxin, what the f u c k?

[][][][][]

Kobra: No one here is gonna make fun of you. Except he might. Ghoul: Yeah, I might.

[][][][][]

Pony: *tries to create a sense of calm by lighting incense only to discover that the sticks were sparklers* Widow: That's painfully on-brand, actually.

[][][][][]

The Girl: *whispering into walkie talkie* Poison, the Pistols are drinking beer, I need you to come pick me up-

[][][][][]

Ghoul: Hey Poison, do you think I can get this egg into that jar without it cracking? Poison: No. Ghoul: *throws it at Kobra* Guess you were right.

[][][][][]

Toxin: Dude, I thought you could do a kickflip. Ghoul: I can! I can! I did one this morning!

[][][][][]

Val: Hey Vaya, do you have any gum? Vaya: *spits their gum out at him* Val: *blinks* Ok then- Vamos, do you have any gum? Vamos: *spits their gum out at him*

[][][][][]

Kit: *walking into Ghoul's room* Hey Toxin, Ghoul- Oh, you guys are doing dress rehearsal. Shiny. Auh, I'm gonna go to Tommy Chow Mein's shop real quick, you guys need anything? Hair dye, Power Pup?

[][][][][]

Widow: *holding up a jack-o-lantern* I made a goblin, what'd you guys make? Toxin: *holding her pumpkin turned into a bong* I made a kick-ass bong. Widow: ...creative! Diamond: *cutting a hole in theirs* I'm gonna fuck this pumpkin.

[][][][][]

Ghoul: *looking through a telescope* I love this Zone! Widow and Kit: *play wrestling in the dirt* Poison: Lemme see- *looks through telescope in the other direction* Kobra and Toxin: *fucking on the hood of the M240* Poison: Gorgeous.

[][][][][]

Diamond: *has been staring at the same ray gun for the past thirty minutes* Tommy Chow Mein: Buy something or fuck off.

[][][][][]

Val: Hey guys. Good alternative recycling; when you're done with a glass bottle, eat it. Fucking eat the bottle.

[][][][][]

Kobra: *reading sign outside the shower* No shoes, no shirt, no pants, no socks, no underwear. Kobra: Ok, I think I'm good. *gets in*

[][][][][]

Widow: Look at the buns on that guy. Jet: *laying on the ground covered in burger buns* Korse: This is the comedy police, the joke's too funny! Widow: *holding her ray gun* I'M NOT GOING BACK TO THE ICEBOX-

[][][][][]

Jet: *while he's in tears* It's a mental break down... Jet: *plays kazoo to the tune of Final Countdown*

[][][][][]

Dr. Death Defying: What'cha doing on the roof, Tommy? Tommy Chow Mein: *on the roof of his shop* I lost a frisbee. Dr. Death Defying: Are you smoking battery acid up there? Tommy Chow Mein: ...yeah.

[][][][][]

Pony: Keep drinking, Val, don't be boring! God! Pony: *to Diamond* I want him to fucking pass out so someone finally notices me.

[][][][][]

Poison: *wearing the Mousekat head while they’re standing in the empty hotel pool* Thrill: What the fuck? There's a furry in the pool. Poison: *raises their ray gun* Thrill: AA-

[][][][][]

Ghoul: *sliding into the trans-AM* What's up, pussy? Poison: How do you know what I ate yesterday? Ghoul: Poison: Ghoul: Yeah, you right. Poison: *starts the car* Mhm.

[][][][][]

Poison: *driving* Diamond: *in the backseat* POISON! Poison: Yep-? Yeah-?? Diamond: *pointing out the back window* LOOK! *there's a car full of Draculoids on their tail* Poison: OH! OH FUCK! floors it NO, NO, NO, NO! NO-

[][][][][]

Val: *lays on the floor* Ooh, I'm exhausted. Thrill: Yeah, you're really sweaty. Val: You should've seen the other guy- Girl- Your mom- What? Thrill: What? Val: What?

[][][][][]

Dr. Death Defying: *coming in at three AM over the radio* Stop it. Get some help.

[][][][][]

Jet: I'm gonna tell you what I don't do. I don't know shit, I don't get stuff, and I don't understand things.

[][][][][]

Thrill: So you'll do it? Kit: Yeah, man, I'll dust him. Thrill: For how much? Kit: How about thirty? Thrill: Thirty thousand carbons? Kit: *spits out drink*

[][][][][]

Widow: Can you sing the song? Dr. Death Defying: *singing* Shut the fuck and go to sleep- Widow: Thanks *:>*

[][][][][]

Toxin: *wielding a water gun* Put the carbons in the bag, right now- Tommy Chow Mein: That's a water gun. Toxin: *throws it at him* Tommy Chow Mein: Ow! Fine, asshole, just take it-

[][][][][]

Val: *walking out of the V's hideout* Last one out is a stupid idiot! The V's: *have been standing outside for the past hour*

[][][][][]

*before they got with the Pistols* Tommy Chow Mein: *over the loudspeaker* Would the owner of the lime green Honda please come to the front desk. Diamond: *walking over* Are my lights on? Tommy Chow Mein: No, I just wanted to see what you looked like. Your car's fucking ugly.

[][][][][]

Poison: You ready for the best night ever? Widow: You mean sleepy time tea and a good night's sleep? Poison: ...we're going to a Mad Gear concert. Widow: ...I already made the tea.

[][][][][]

Dr. Death Defying: *over the loudspeaker* Attention shoppers, our store closes in ten fucking minutes. Get your shit and let's fucking go. Tommy Chow Mein: *distantly* Hey, you don't fucking work here-

[][][][][]

Diamond: Pony is so annoying. Pony: *outside the window of their room* I heard you were talking shit about me- Diamond: WE ARE ON THE THIRD FLOOR-

[][][][][]

Toxin: 'Tommy Chow Mein' is short for 'Thomas Chowder Mainstreet'. Tommy Chow Mein: Get the fuck out.

[][][][][]

Diamond: *a sand pup* What up? I'm Diamond, I'm nineteen, and I never fuckin' learned how to read.

[][][][][]

Ghoul: *looms over Diamond* Diamond: *looks up from writing in a notebook* Ghoul: Diamond: Ghoul: Diamond: Diamond: I'm writing porn, what the fuck do you want? Ghoul: *loses it and fucks off*

[][][][][]

*at dinner* Jet: Short-ass. Poison: Cuck. Jet: Fuck you. Poison: No, fuck you. Jet: Eat shit and live. Poison: You look like you bite deodorant sticks. Jet: *holds up bowl* I will cut your hair to look like this. Poison: GHOUL, HE THREATENED ME-

[][][][][]

Val: *wild cackling* I GOT ANOTHER HEADSHOT! *cackling continues*

[][][][][]

Toxin: Oh Destroya. You don't think- Ghoul: By the way it's looking, Tox, I'd say Val's a dirty... Toxin: Oh Destroya- Ghoul: Collectivizing... Toxin: No- Ghoul: Gemini. Toxin: GEMINI! GEMINI! Ghoul: Yeah, go get him, Toxin! Toxin: REEEE- *runs in Val's direction* *screaming*

[][][][][]

Toxin: *holding her pet possum* Yeah, and spray him down with that shit in the bottle there. Kobra: *reading the label* For fleas and ticks, huh? Ghoul: *starts laughing in the distance* I'm sorry, for a sec I thought you said 'fleas and piss'! *laughter continues* Thrill: We could get some of that for Poison then! *laughs* Toxin: *quietly* Party 'Piss Jacket' Poison.

[][][][][]

Diamond: *walking down to the kitchen* Fuck it, I'm hungry enough that I'll eat the stale cereal. Jet: It's five AM, also that cereal is beyond fucking stale. Diamond: *disappearing into the kitchen* I'll probably hate myself afterwards but, eh, am hungy.

[][][][][]

Widow: Kit, I think your dress rehearsal partner is gonna slap me. Kit: ...I'm sorry? I can't really stop 'em. Poison: *raises hand* Widow: AA-

[][][][][]

Kobra: It's almost six in the morning. What the fuck? Jet: Hi, almost six in the morning. I'm dead. Kobra: *-_-* Kobra: *0_0*

[][][][][]

*in the Nest* Val: *sits down with a can of Power Pup* Toxin: You happy? Val: Mhm. Toxin: Good. Your happiness distracts from the fact that I poisoned that Power Pup. Val: Good. I don't like my foods unpoisoned.

[][][][][]

Vaya: *eating a piece of bread* This bread is, like, on the precipice of being stale. Vamos: That sucks. Vaya: Yeah. Vamos: I wouldn't be too happy. Vaya: Yeah, it's the worst snack I've had the misfortune of eating. Vamos: Then stop? Vaya: No, I hate myself and therefore I'm gonna finish it. Also Val would kick my ass if I wasted food. Val: *from the next room* I would! Vaya: See? Vamos: Fine, finish your fuckin' bread.

[][][][][]

Thrill: You- You've been- Been- You've been- You've been hit with a distraction spell. Thrill: *punches Val in the thigh* Val: OW, YOU FUCKER- Thrill: *gets up and runs*

[][][][][]

Val: *opens pack of fruit snacks with teeth* Poison: *intense stare* Val: ...what? Poison: *points at fruit snacks* Val: No. Mine. Poison: I will fucking dismember you, give them to me.

[][][][][]

Ghoul: I don't see how you can sleep with that fucking blanket. I tried to once and it was so fucking hot. It also weighs more than me, probably. Poison: *curled up in a blanket* It's not my fault you're cold-blooded. Ghoul: *hisses* Jet: What'd you say about the cold-blooded? Poison: I was talking about Ghoul. Jet: Ah. Ghoul: Yeah, Jetty, you're friends with a reptilian. Kobra: *quietly* You're not Leafy. *the other three lose it*

[][][][][]

Poison: *slaps Kit's ass* Night! Poison: *goes to their room*

[][][][][]

Kobra: *walking up to his room* Widow: Why is it that whenever he walks on stairs, it sounds like the stairs are trying to eat him? Kobra: *turns around and squints*

[][][][][]

Diamond: Eugh, this off-brand ramen tastes like ass. Widow: Yeah, it really does. Diamond: If it's not Better Living brand, it's not ramen. Widow: That's what I told Thrill. Of course, I was ignored. Kit: Thrill has small pea brain.

[][][][][]

Val: Fight me. Ghoul: No. Val: Fight me. Ghoul: Diamond already tried to fight me in the kitchen, I don't wanna fight anybody else. Val: Beat my ass. Ghoul: I cannot. Val: Why? Ghoul: Ghoul: I'm small.

[][][][][]

Toxin: Hey, I said Kobra was cute, I didn't say he was smart. Kit: That...applies to me... Kit: Why does that apply to me??

[][][][][]

Toxin: *licks Kobra's cheek* Diamond: Don't lick that, you don't know where it's been! Kobra: *>:(*

[][][][][]

Poison: I'm too sober to be having this conversation! Toxin: No, we're having this conversation! What the fuck do you mean!?

[][][][][]

Val: I suck? I suck?? You died! You died! You just died and you’re saying I suck???

#blazing fire ;; party poison #ghostly lad ;; fun ghoul #sweet venom ;; kobra kid #neon nasa ;; jet star #fabulous four #little clementine ;; the girl #dramatically fabulous ;; show pony #shoplifter shooter ;; tommy chow mein #sup doc ;; dr. death defying #foxy sharpshooter ;; gun kit #spidery darlin' ;; widow bite #battery acid ;; toxin dealer #zapped carbon ;; electric diamond #heartthrob flatline ;; thrill killer #mother's little pistols #fucking rat ;; val velocity #hashtag twinning ;; vaya and vamos #kitpoison (gun kit/party poison)#kobratoxin (kobra kid/toxin dealer)#ghoultoxin (fun ghoul/toxin dealer)#tlotfk au #incorrect tlotfk au #incorrect danger days quotes #incorrect killjoy quotes #incorrect tlotfk quotes #incorrect killjoys #incorrect danger days #incorrect tlotfk #radio frequency #// there are probably more tags that i should add to this but i'm tired

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kathyprior4200 · 4 years

Text

Haven Hotel: That’s Disengagement!

A princess with long black hair walked out from a balcony. She wore a black undershirt with a white bow tie on top. A dark teal shirt, long white pants and white high heel shoes completed the look. Her face was white and teal blushes were present on her cheeks. She was the inverted, antithesis of Charlie, the princess of Hell in a parallel world.

“For all my life, I’ve been taught that all angels have good inside them. But I know that to be a lie. Ever since Lucifer and Lilith, God’s closest angels betrayed Him… I don’t think I can believe in these flawed teachings anymore…”

The princess was Caroline Egnam, born and raised in Heaven…though she was not at all one would expect her to be in such a place. Self-entitled and pessimistic, nothing much could cheer her up except heavy metal music, rebelling against the rules and the occasional brawl.

“It’s inevitable that all those imperfect angels will go to Hell. They deserve to deal with suffering and challenges. Best of all, they wouldn’t be bound by social expectations. Heck, I wouldn’t be too surprised if it were me. I do enjoy my comfortable life here, just not these restrictions.”

Her servants Pub and Chub were fat white cherub angels with horns on their heads, black wings, and black eyes. One held an electric guitar while the other shot out torpedoes from a small cannon.

Outside was a white clock tower standing tall against the blue sky. The numbers read 0 then changed to 365 days. Writing above the numbers read “days until the next cleanse in Hell.”

Caroline leaned against the marble balcony and began to sing in a low growl.

(“I’m Always Evading Shadows”)

“At the end of the journey, there’s suffering

Denying it, how often I’ve tried

But my life’s a disgrace

Just a slap in the face

And the harsh truths have all been denied”

“A sliver of despair in this world of light

I know this world’s not free of sin

I search for the good

But get misunderstood

And reality will always win”

“Why have I always been so imperfect?

Lost in this brainwashed sea

I wonder if the world’s to blame

I wonder if it could be me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Trapped, drowning in the social flow

Free-will forbidden, my answers are hidden

Lying down below”

“Some people sugarcoat their speeches

I always blab out what I mean

I may be cruel but I am no fool

Things are never what they seem

Believe me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Waiting for people to awaken

In vain”

A nearby portal opened and out came the Exterminators, bloodstains over their wings and bodies and harpoons. They took off their creepy LED masks, their white angelic faces revealed. One by one, the citizens clapped and cheered. One of the Archangels with four black wings flew up to the front, his spiked halo glowing. He took off his mask, revealing a white face with yellow eyes and fiery red hair.

“Another successful purge,” their leader Samael praised. “You cleansed more sinners while still keeping the population in a good balance. Well done, all of you.” He cleared his throat and made a cross symbol over his heart. “For the greater good in the name of our Lord.”

The angels repeated the phrase.

“Until next year. Dismissed.” The Archangel soldiers saluted and then flew off separately to see their families.

All around Caroline, Holy City was basked in a heavenly glow. The city was located up in the sky among the clouds, but no one had to worry about falling, even the ones without their wings out. A large church with the appearance of the Notre Dame Cathedral stood proudly in the city square, made of polished marble. Choirs and songs floated through the stained glass windows as the regular angels went in and out to pray and visit with their neighbors. A large fountain sprouted non-alcoholic wine of a golden color. It had a white statue of Mary and Jesus as a young boy at the top, both with welcoming faces.

The streets were spotless and clean. Roofs and roads were powered by the sun’s rays. The Cloud 9 supermarket had endless amounts of food for sale…no one ever had to worry about going hungry. Charity workers and volunteers worked by the dozens, passing out food and bestowing miracles for those who needed them in the lower levels of Heaven.

This version of Heaven was very similar to the Heaven in the realm next door, the one above the familiar Hell with the Hazbin Hotel. Unlike those angels with their blonde hair and red blushes, these angels most often had black hair and teal blushes on their cheeks. Like in the other Heaven, some of the bipedal angels displayed animal-like characteristics: some had heads of doves, others had swan wings and mannerisms. Many of them had fur, ears, and fluffy tails of dogs and wolves. It was the only place where dogs and cats could dance and prance together without conflict. Still a few others had faces of flowers or even objects like harps and musical instruments.

God’s Palace was the grandest place of all: it was settled at the highest point of Heaven like Mount Olympus. Only a few angels were allowed to visit there. Seraph angels with six rainbow wings guarded the throne of God as well as the outside of the palace. There were rumors that in the palace gardens, the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge were grown there, heavily protected.

Lucius and Lilian were Caroline’s parents, those who took the place of Lucifer and Lilith after they were banished. They were named the new king and queen of heaven, thus Caroline became the princess.

Lucius had a white face, teal blushes on his cheeks and short dark hair. Lucius wore a gray suit with a dark blue bow tie and a black top hat with two white features attacked to the brim. Lilian’s hair was long and black, and she, too had the teal blushes and typical angel features. She wore a golden halo crown and an elegant white dress. Both had white wings which could turn black when they were angry or defensive.

Along the street, a red car stopped beside the sidewalk. A tall creature opened the car door and stepped out. The spider angel had a furry dark gray face and body, plus multiple slender arms: six in total. He wore tall boots, green gloves and a shirt with a white bow-tie near the top. His shirt and sleeves had black and dark green stripes. Green dots resembling eyes were located under his eyes.

“Thank you for the ride,” said the spider angel.

“No problem, Devil Grit,” said the driver Travis, a white furry guy wearing a top hat.

Devil walked over to a vending machine and bought himself a granola bar. He then gave it to a homeless guy leaning against the wall.

He walked inside a building and onto a stage in an auditorium. His opponent was already standing nervously at his spot, a microphone rising from the ground and stopping in front of him.

Pentious Senor was the nervous white snake. He had a white face with large slightly teal eyes with white pupils. He wore a white bow tie with a blue circle in the center below his thin neck. Surrounding his face on a flap of skin were bright teal eyes against dark purple. His suit was light gray with dark purple vertical stripes. Finally, he wore a large light gray top hat with a large green eye moving eye in the center.

The crowd settled into their seats and the debate began.

“Those other brave do gooders will do great with helping me with my presentation. Anyone want to try?”

A couple of hands shot up. Mechanical eggs on robotic legs moved around to help out the white snake lord.

Senor pushed a button and a presentation showed up on a screen titled “Heaven Economics and Invention Ideas.”

“I don’t like to fight,” Senor said, “and I’m super nervous up here…”

Devil Grit glared at his cowardly opponent who then yelped, “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Heaven doesn’t need any future technology,” Grit argued, “because we already have better things: friendships, food, and fun.”

Pentious Senor glanced down nervously at his note cards and read from them. “At this rate I will persuade the entire East end of Holy City by night’s beginning. And nothing, not a single beauty in this paradise of bliss, will be able to change my mind or escape the constrictive grasp of persuasive argumentation.”

“Heaven will be ours, though it’s mine in my mind. And everybody will know the name of…”

“Scared Snake,” said a female voice.

“W-who said that?” Senor asked.

“You ready for a debate, old man?”

The voice belonged to Berri Blossom, the opposite of Cherri Bomb in Hell. She was a tall cyclops with black skin, with a single green eye with a black cross in the center. She wore a long dark green dress and white high heeled shoes. Her black skin was decorated in some areas near her shoulders with tiny teal specks. Her long hair was curly, blue at the top and black near the bottom.

She walked over beside her academic partner Devil Grit. “Why don’t you play with your tinker toys somewhere else while I go over the logistics of divine law school?” She looked professional and poised.

“You want to go, madam?” Pentious Senor asked. He flicked his hood back. “Well, let the battle for tenure and status begin!”

A neon logo appeared on the screen, saying “Divine News” surrounded by a halo. The names of the news cast appeared on the bottom of the screen.

“Good afternoon, Holy City!” said a woman with short black hair, wearing a light blue dress. “I’m Catie Carejoy.”

“And I’m Ron Wrench,” said the man next to her, wearing a business suit and who had a wrench for a head.

After discussing the weather, various humane societies, and legends on Earth, Catie continued, “The debate battle is underway between inventor and conservative coward Pentious Senor and professional economics expert Berri Blossom. Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of His Majesty Lucius, who’s here to discuss her brand new passion-project! All that and more after the break!”

Inside the break room, Agatha adjusted Caroline’s white bow tie. Nearby, a blue tinted sign read “No smoking.” Another sign read “In The Air” in large letters.

“Okay, you remember what to say?” Agatha asked Caroline.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Caroline stated.

Agatha brushed her long black hair from her face. Like Vaggie in Hell, Agatha’s thick hair extended down to her legs, giving her hair the appearance of moth wings. She had a green cross over her right eye and her left eye was purple with a white pupil. A teal bow was perched on top of her head. Her skin was dark gray and she wore a dark gray crop top with white xs over her breasts. She also wore leggings, her right legging striped dark green and light gray, her left legging light gray.

“Oh this is gonna be great!” Agatha said happily. “How about you make your speech sound more exciting?”

“Come on, Agatha, I know what I’m going to say,” Caroline answered, crossing her arms.

Agatha walked over to the pitcher of ambrosia punch on the table. Pub and Chub ate bagels from the table. Agatha got an idea. “Oh! What if you…”

“Sing a song about it?” Caroline asked, with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not going to. This is serious!” She curled her hand into a fist and brought it down on the palm of her other hand. “They won’t take me serious if I start belting out some random song. Life isn’t a musical.”

“But neither is it an emo tragedy,” Agatha pointed out. “Life is great, especially with all the cute guys around.” Her single purple eye shinned.

“Romance, bleh,” Caroline made a face and Agatha giggled.

“Hey,” Agatha brightened, pulling out a piece of paper. “I have some ideas about what you could say.” She bounced up and down. “The highlighted bits are the best parts!”

“They’re all highlighted,” Caroline replied, scanning the paper. “You call your childish drawing your ideas for me?”

“Sure!” Agatha said. “Look here.” It showed a list of different terms “sinners = winners” “Misunderstood are still good” and “demons and angels party between worlds!” Skulls were lined up at the bottom of the page: “we’re all connected by death.”

“Say, that’s actually pretty good!” Caroline said with a smile of sharp teeth.

“Thanks!” Agatha beamed.

Caroline snatched the piece of paper from her friend and tore it in half, much to her shock. “But you should know my ideas are always better.” She tossed the pieces of paper aside, gave a salute and walked out the door.

Catie waved with a smile. “Hello, Caroline. I’m Catie Carejoy.” She held out her hand but Caroline didn’t take it. Catie continued, pulling her hand back. “So this project of yours, when did you come up with this idea of creating a hotel in order to…break the law as the rumors say?”

The angel crew murmured nervously.

“I’m gonna keep this short,” Caroline said. “You might think my idea doesn’t hold water, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’m too influential to give a flying feather about what some news lady thinks of my proposal.”

The crowd gasped. Ron shook his head.

“Well, if you can’t take constructive criticism and be polite…”

“…and we’re live!” called a voice as a buzzer sounded.

“And we’re back!” Catie said, rushing over into her seat. “So, Carrie…”

“It’s Princess Caroline Egnam,” said Caroline, sitting in a chair beside her and Ron Wrench.

“Sorry. So tell us about your project.”

Caroline took a deep breath. “As most of you know, I was born here in Heaven, and growing up, I’ve always tried to see the good in everything around me. But recently, I don’t believe that’s always the case. We just completed another Extermination. So many sinful souls lost but for what reason? God said in the Commandments “thou shall not kill,” yet killing random people is okay? If we can’t even trust ourselves with our actions and thoughts, is Heaven truly paradise? Not to mention that ever since Lucifer and Lilith betrayed Him, we don’t know who to really trust. Some people are given too many chances!” She pounded her fist on the desk, startling Catie.

Caroline stood up and made her way forward. “No one is truly flawless. Mistakes are made, but we get blamed for doing things we sometimes enjoy. Sex, drugs, partying, swearing, even violence. All because we don’t live up to standards imposed upon us, both here and on Earth! I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such lies and propaganda! So, I’ve been thinking…isn’t there a more liberating way to hinder forced compliance here in Heaven? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to express change through…recreation?”

The angels talked quietly amongst themselves. Aggy nodded in appreciation.

“Well I think yes,” Caroline continued. “So that’s what this project aims to achieve.” She walked back to the desk and sat down. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind, a hotel that encourages moderate amounts of so-called sin!” She spread out her arms.

The audience stared in stunned silence. Many of the adults were shaking their heads.

“Who is that girl?” asked a dragon watching from inside a soup kitchen. “What’s her deal with trying to cause more trouble for this world?”

“She’s nuts!” added another angel with an eagle’s head and wings, wearing a suit.

Caroline added nervously, “I figure it would serve a purpose…a place to work toward self-expression. Yay.”

Among the crowd of angels watching the news outside, a tall man with a thin pale brownish face stood toward the back. He wore a light blue dress suit, had blue and white hair, fluffy deer-like ears, and large blue eyes. He watched the program with a look of worry. A deer creature made of light appeared beside him. A sign posted on the wall showing the same man as a DJ read: “Counseling and good times with the Techno Angel!”

A camera man shook his head at Caroline. Agatha walked up to him and said, “Please give her a chance.”

Caroline sighed. “Look, I know every single one of you has insecurities and issues that need not be bottled up. If you could just embrace those sides of yourselves…”

Caroline then smirked. “Maybe I’m not getting through to you.”

Agatha clapped her hands and “ooohed” in excitement as Rub and Chub got the electric guitar ready.

Caroline showed a pair of sharp white teeth and black horns emerged from her head. Black feathery wings sprouted from her back and an X appeared over her right eye. A harpoon appeared in her right hand and blue curved horns emerged from her wavy black hair. She posed over the desk and began.

(“Inside of Every Angel is a Monster”)

“I have a dream

I’m here to tell

About a fantastic mind-blowing hotel

One of a kind, go and yell

A great place to dwell

Catering to specific clientele”

*Guitar starts and scream vocals*

“Inside of every angel is a monster

Inside of every do-gooder is a sinner

Inside of every jolly go-lucky mentality

Is a subconscious portion that’s always dimmer”

“Resist all the rules

You’re not passive fools!

With just a little time

Down at the Hazbin Hotel!”

“So all you rescuers, priests, and heroes

Gifted athletes, jocks, and cheerios

And the sheep citizens, relief is here!

All of you angels, leaders, and stars

Traditionalists with fancy cars

And the activists on Mars

Show no fear

No taboos, no laws

Embrace your flaws

You’ll be truly free

Check in with me

It’s the right path, you’ll see”

“There’ll be no more pressure

And no more status quo

Just friendship, fun, and endless bags of dough

Establishment put to rest

You’ll be like, “Yes!”

Once you check in with me!

“So all your hierarchies, GMOs, politics, and isms

Lectures, labor standards, and diamond studded prisms

Ancient Indian elitisms

All must die”

“All you fantasizers, artists, servers, and lords

Spoiled children, winners of awards

Imposers of chores

Face your fear!”

“Be who you are

And you’ll go so far

Our service will raise the bar

You’ll be the star

Come from near or afar at the Hazbin Hotel!

Yeah!”

“Wow,” said an angel in a top hat. “That was…alright.”

The crowd clapped half-heartedly.

Catie shook her head. “What in the Nine Circles makes you think a single denizen of Heaven would give two feathers about becoming a bad person? You have no proof that your little experiment even works! You want people to disobey God and the rules just…because?!”

Caroline lifted up her head. “Well, we have a patron already who believes in our cause.”

“And who might that be?” Catie asked.

“Oh just someone named…Devil Grit.”

“The grumpy old spider?” asked Ron Wrench.

“He’s not old,” argued Catie. “He just acts older than he is.”

“Anyway,” said Catie to Caroline. “You couldn’t even get that guy to do something bad, even if a gun was pointed at his head.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Caroline argued. “He’s been troubled, dirty, and having conflicted thoughts for two weeks, now.”

“Breaking news!” called a voice as the screen changed to a recent debate shown in a building.

The news came on, detailing Devil Grit and his recent TED talk about the 7 Heavenly Virtues.

“Well, it looks like the one discussing the Heavenly Virtues is none other than…conservative Devil Grit! What a coincidence!”

She and Ron did a “ratings!” and jazz hands.

“Don’t look at this!” yelled Caroline, waving her arms from behind the screen.

“I’m sorry to say, but it looks like your plan’s departed on arrival,” said Catie. “I hope you learned a good lesson here.”

Caroline’s eyes twitched, her teeth barred. “Lesson?! I’ll teach you a lesson, bitch!” The princess and Catie fought fist and claw on the desk. Ron called for security.

After Caroline was kicked out, Agatha followed her wordlessly to the white limo. Devil Grit, Agatha, and Caroline rode back to the hotel.

Devil Grit lounged in the far seat, wearing an outfit of black with green stripes and green gloves on his four hands.

“Devil,” said Agatha with concern. “I know you were trying to do good by doing your professional speech. But could you please try not to help society in public? Now people won’t believe us when Caroline says that people are free to express their earthly desires.”

“I’m sorry Aggy,” said Devil from the other seat, “But I have a reputation to keep up. Helping the greater good is His plan for all of us. Besides, a good professional debate is a reasonable form of self-expression right?”

“Not to everyone,” said Agatha. “What about the hotel? People are thinking that you don’t care about Caroline’s project at all.”

“I do care, senorita,” said Devil. “I just don’t think it’s going to be easy to accomplish in such a short time. So many angels are fixated on tradition, myself included.”

“I do appreciate all of your help,” said Caroline, still fuming after the interview, arms crossed. “But I will make this project work, even if I have to do it myself.”

The white limo pulled up in front of the hotel, a pristine building made of glass and marble. The group got out of the car and stepped inside.

White wings made of rainbow scales posed as part of the structure on the roof. The stained glass windows by the door were decorated with apples, a tree of life, and many shades of blue and green. The sign above read “Hazbin Hotel” in big letters on the roof. Inside the lobby, a painting of Adam reaching toward God was displayed on the high ceiling. The hotel had seven floors with seven rooms on each floor. There was even a lab down in the basement which belonged to a frog man named Terry, the opposite of the demon fish scientist Baxter from Hell. A bowl of blue berries and blue raspberries sat on a table below a welcome banner. Aggy rested on a couch while Devil Grit munched on a granola bar.

“It’s probably a good idea to stock up some more food in this place,” said Devil Grit. “Good or bad, people always seem to be greedy when they’re hungry.”

Devil Grit pulled out a chart and went over probabilities and graphs regarding the hotel and the potential number of visitors. Caroline just sighed and walked away toward the door. She went outside and took out her cell phone, calling her mom.

“Carol cakes!” called her mother through the phone. Caroline cringed.

“Mom, I told you not to call me that! I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” said Lilian with a giggle. “How was the interview?”

“Meh. It was alright. I proposed my idea, but nobody seemed to buy it.”

Lilian’s tone turned more serious. “Caroline, why do you insist that everyone must go down to that horrible place? Why can’t you just see the good in people?”

“Because,” Caroline said, “Everyone has flaws and they don’t realize it.”

“Yes, but that also applies to you, too. Before you get involved with the lives of others, you need to look inside and critique yourself.”

“I’m a princess. Everyone else has more flaws than I do.”

Lilian let out a long sigh. “Young lady, we’ve been through this I don’t know how many times. You have to push your selfish thoughts aside and just accept the way things are. It’s part of a higher purpose.”

“And what is this “higher purpose” anyway? To be His flock of dazed sheep, dancing around without any care in the world? To not experience ecstasy and adventure, even for just a moment?”

“That stuff is dangerous and forbidden. Thousands of souls would do anything to get up to this highest level of Heaven. And you just want to throw your afterlife away?”

Caroline paused in thought. “If it means proving myself and serving Him in a way I see fit, then so be it.”

“You have delusions of what entertainment and happiness is, Carol. Sometimes, you need to take the time and appreciate the beauty that’s in front of you.”

“Other than my own refection, I don’t really see beauty in many other things. Well, metal and watching battles…oh and tragic poetry…”

“You have a lot to learn, dear daughter,” Lilian replied. “I’ll leave you alone to think about it.”

“Whatever.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

Caroline hung up and went back inside, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against the door frame, closing her eyes in frustration…trying to hold back a stream of tears.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Two knocks, followed by five fast ones. Caroline got up and turned around to answer it. She swung the stained glass door open. From outside stood a man with a pale face, wearing a light blue pinstriped dress coat. A white upward cross was part of the design on his blue undershirt. He was carrying a modern microphone atop a staff in his left hand. His small antlers were white and his hair and deer ears were blue with white tips. He wore glasses as well. Caroline narrowed her eyes.

“Hi, excuse me…” he spoke quietly. “Is this…”

“Fuck off!” Caroline spat, slamming the door in his face.

She opened it again.

“…the right address?” finished the man.

“No!” she shouted, slamming it again.

“Hey Aggy!” called Caroline.

“What?” her friend asked.

“The crybaby Deer Man is at the door!”

“What?!” she asked, blushes appearing on her cheeks.

“Who?” asked Devil Grit.

“What should I do?”

“Well…let him in!” Aggy said, eye shining.

Caroline rolled her eyes and scoffed. She sighed and opened the door again.

“May I talk now?” the man asked.

“Sure, whatever,” Caroline said.

The man held out his white gloved four-fingered hand and smiled. “Stalaro, it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.” He walked in. Worry was etched on his face. “I saw your interview on the picture show and I was worried sick! I was afraid you were never coming back after your argument. I haven’t been that upset since the 1929 Stock Market Crash!” He sniffed, “So many orphans…”

“Hello there!” Aggy called with a smile, staring up at him and walking in front of him. “I’m so glad you’re here to help out my friend with this new hotel! I’m a big fan of yours and just being in your presence is just…” She swooned. “Oh just take me already you cute, pompous, talk show, blueberry pimp lord!”

Stalaro gave a nervous laugh, “Dear, I’m mostly into guys but I appreciate the sentiment.” He conjured up a strawberry in his hand and popped it into his mouth.

Aggy deflated a little.

“But if I wanted to take anyone away…they would be gone already.”

Stalaro tilted his head. His blue eyes briefly glowed with blue upside down radio dials in them. Electricity sparked around cyan colored voodoo symbols in the air. His eyes filled with tears, tears spilling down his pale brown cheeks.

Aggy watched in bliss, while Devil and Caroline rolled their eyes at the show-off.

Stalaro shook his head and his eyes returned to normal blue.

“No, I’m here because I want to relax and help out.”

“Say what?” Caroline asked, eyebrow raised.

Stalaro held up his staff which glowed blue. He said with a sad crack in his voice, “Goodbye, is this thing off?”

He tapped it. A blue sad looking eye appeared in the center of the microphone. It spoke in a mechanical voice. “You’re silent, quiet and unclear!”

“That’s your motivation motto every day?” Devil Grit asked, crossing his four arms. “Pathetic!”

“Tragic and mysterious, I love it!” Aggy squealed. “It’s like the opposite of announcing. It’s denouncing.”

“Um…you want to help?” Caroline asked.

Stalaro appeared behind them after morphing into light.

“With…” he spoke in her growl then his normal shy sounding voice, “…this random thing you’re trying to do. This hotel. I want to help you run it, if that’s okay.”

“Uh…why?”

Stalaro choked a bit on his words. “Why doesn’t anyone do anything? Sheer absolute lethargy! I’ve been partying around and keeping busy for decades. I would like to do something more relaxing and easier.”

Aggy wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Stalaro blushed uncomfortably. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!”

He gently pulled her off him. “My work became overwhelming, lacking focus. I’ve come to crave a new form of disengagement!”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as disengagement?”

“No,” Stalaro said. “It’s violent and messy, not really my thing. Life is truly strange…reality, fantasy, true tragedy. After all the world is a grave, and the grave is a world of disengagement!”

Caroline brightened a bit. “So, does this mean you think it’s possible to taint an angel?”

Stalaro sniffed and held up a hand. “Who knows? Anything’s possible. Sinning, oh the vice of humanity! I think there’s plenty left that can change such do -gooders. But then again, the chance that was given to them was the life they lived before. The reward is this!” He spread out his arms. “According to God, there’s no undoing what is done…or at least that’s the way it should be.”

“So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t fully believe in my cause?” Caroline asked.

Stalaro turned around to look at her. “Consider it an investment in ongoing knowledge for myself and others.” He let out a small smile. “I want to watch the blessed of this world struggle to give into temptation, only to repeatedly realize and raise themselves toward the golden ladder of success!” His eyes glowed blue.

“Right…” Caroline began.

“Yes indeed,” Stalaro said, both of them walking off to the side. “I see you taking risks and who better to keep you grounded than I.”

“Ah, so what’s the deal with Mr. Frown over there?” Devil Grit asked.

“Wait, you’ve never heard of him before?” Aggy asked, blushing. “You’ve been here longer than me!”

Devil shrugged his shoulders.

“The Techno Angel, one of the most complex beings Heaven as ever seen?”

“Eh, not big on certain politics and the arts.”

Aggy sighed and leaned in close to explain.

“Decades ago, Stalaro manifested in Heaven, seemingly in one day. He began to catch the attention of overlords who had kept to themselves for centuries. That kind of attraction and magic power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his adventures all throughout heaven just so everyone could experience some joy, tragedy and emotions. Do gooders starting calling him the Techno Angel, (as unoriginal as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient and constructive heroes. But one thing’s for sure: he’s an unpredictable source of silliness, a depressed spirit of mystery and a loving being of order…or disorder, the likes of which we can get involved in, especially if we want to end up aroused!”

“You done?” Devil asked. “He looks like a blueberry businessman. Or a shady con-man.”

“Well, I trust him completely!”

“Do you blindly trust any man? All men?”

Aggy skipped over to Caroline. Stalaro examined a family portrait of Lucius, Lilian and a young Caroline in the center. Young Caroline wore a white dress with a turquoise top to it. Her hair was jet black, braided in black barbed wire, her cheeks had teal blushes. Her mother had long black hair and wore a fancy white dress and a round gold crown. Her father was dressed in a dress suit of white and blue, with blue and black stripes in the center below a white bow tie. He wore a large light gray top hat with a dove and a green apple on it. His cane also had a green apple on the top. Both of them were smiling, showing rows of sharp teeth, white wings folded behind them.

“Caroline, listen to me, you can believe this dreamer. He isn’t just a sad face. He’s a miracle maker, pure good! But… don’t count on him to believe in your cause. He could be tainted and rebel, but we don’t know that. He could very well side with God and your parents. And he’s most likely looking for a way to hinder everything we’re trying to do if it means following God’s rules. But still, give him a chance. He’s really sweet.”

“I…” Caroline began. “…we don’t know that. Look, he’s a crying bitch, and he probably doesn’t want to change.”

Aggy put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.

“The whole point of your hotel is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better and people can embrace their flaws! How can you turn someone away? You can’t. It goes against everything you’re trying to do. Everything you believe in.”

Caroline looked downcast. Her friend had a good point. She hated when people made good arguments against her. But it also gave her a chance to consider her thoughts. Aggy kept her grounded and added some cheer to her overall fake afterlife. Caroline smiled at her.

“You take care of yourself,” she said to Aggy.

“Caroline,” warned Aggy, “Unless you are serious about responsibility, do not make a promise with him!”

Demons often made deals with each other that often resulted in gaining power at the cost of one’s soul or freedom. Usually the one who initiated the deal would gain advantage. A demonic deal was bad in and of itself. Breaking an angelic promise could result in rejection, eternal torture and damnation.

“Don’t worry,” said Caroline. “I learned one thing from my dad.” She mimicked his low voice, “Ya don’t break trust with other angels!”

Caroline marched over to the Techno Angel.

“Ok…so Stal... You’re prissy as fuck, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a too-dangerous risk. But I don’t.”

Glowing blue symbols briefly appeared around a concerned Stalaro, then vanished.

Caroline continued. “I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be flawed. After all, it’s in their nature and the sooner they realize it, the better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition there be no lessons or lovey-dovey speeches made.”

Stalaro twirled his cane and held out his smallest finger from his right hand.

“So, it’s a promise, then?”

The room was surrounded by a pink aura as light spirits roamed around the walls. The wind blew against Aggy’s and Devil’s faces.

“Nope!” Caroline yelled, holding out her hands. The energy stopped. “No shaking, no promises! I…hmmm…”

She paused in thought.

“As Princess of Heaven and heir to the throne, I hereby order that you help out with this hotel for as long as you desire.”

A moment of pause…

“Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” Stalaro said with a slump of his shoulders and walked on. His cane vanished. Caroline did a thumbs up.

Stalaro stopped and spotted Aggy to the side.

Aggy went up and tickled him under the chin, much to his dislike.

He pushed her arm gently away. “Frown, my dear. You’d be too fully dressed if you were a man.”

He walked on, Aggy perplexed at being rejected. “Why does he have to be gay?” she mused, sadly. “Liking nude men…oh I could just swear right now…darn.”

“So…where is your hotel staff?” Stalaro asked Caroline.

“Uh well,” Caroline began. Stalaro peered at Aggy through his monocle below his left eye.

He stuttered. “You’re going to n-need more than that.”

Stalaro walked over to Devil Grit, who was sitting on a stool.

“And what can I do, my business fellow?” asked Stalaro walking over to the dark furred spider, blushing.

“You can suck a dick,” Devil retorted in a grumpy tone.

“AH! Ok,” said Stalaro, blushing and stepping back. “Can it be yours?”

“Fuck off,” Devil added, pulling out a long knife from his belt.

Stalaro summoned his cane. “Well this just won’t do. You want others to cause trouble, yes? I suppose I can cash in a few favors to deaden things up!”

He snapped his fingers and the wall beside the fireplace cracked. The circle went dark, the fire going out. Ice cold water appeared to fill in the circle and a shadowy figure solely formed inside. Stalaro walked over and removed the dripping figure from the water. A large single purple eye was revealed.

Devil, Aggy and Caroline peered at the creature. With a balloon deflating sound and a puff of white smoke, the figure was revealed.

“This little sinner is Klutzy!” Stalaro announced with a worried smile, dropping the figure.

A black-skinned short cyclops female landed on her face on the floor. She stood up with a grumpy look on her face. She wore a dark green skirt with a white stray cat off to the left side. Her arms and legs were white and stick-shaped. Several blue dots stood out from the lighter green color of her skirt. Her shirt was black with cyan paint spots off to the right. Her large eye took up much of her face; it was purple with a white pupil. Her sharp teeth were black. Her short hair was teal with a dark blue spot off to the left.

“I’m Klutzy,” she grumbled, clenching her fists. “It’s a waste of time to meet you fools. It’s been a while since I made new rivals.”

Her pupil narrowed from side to side.

“Why are you all men?” she asked. “Have any women here? Or video games? Screw this place.”

She briefly picked up Caroline, then let go.

“Oh man, this place is boring!” she exclaimed. She ran over to a vase and proceeded to knock it over with her elbow. It shattered to pieces on the floor. She tossed couch cushions aside.

“It really needs a more manly touch, disorganized clutter’s more fun.” She grinned as she poured dirt from a flower pot onto the rug.

“Yes, yes, yep, yeah!” she yelled as she proceeded to break windows and knock down more stuff. Then she plopped down on a couch once the room was messy. “I’m bored. Make me some food or something.”

Aggy, Devil, and Caroline looked on in worry, Stalaro just stared off into space.

A cat angel was working on a Rubik’s cube with colleagues. His furry face was black, framed by white fur. His little top hat was white with a blue band across it. A big teal bow tie was under his neck, over his black furry chest framed by white fur. His wings were a brilliant blue, with black and red mathematical symbols on either side: the pi symbol, E = mc squared, signs for addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, among others. More symbols were visible within his two pointed ears. His teeth were sharp and purple and his long eyebrows were teal. His eyes were purple and sclera white. The angel placed a Rubik’s cube in front of him. “Ha!” he declared in triumph. Read ‘em and weep, boys! Full…whoa…”

He felt himself being transported in a flash of light to the hotel. Part of the science room that the cat had been in was merged with the hotel lobby…posters of the elements, the solar system and Biblical works of art.

“What in Heaven’s name is going on?

Then he brightened when he saw Stalaro. “You!”

“Ah, Core, my old friend,” Stalaro sniffed, his head briefly looking like it was in between antlers from a stuffed deer head on the wall. “You made it.”

“Glad to see you, you son of the sun!” Core said. “I just completed my Rubik’s cube after just an hour.”

The cube vanished as Stalaro looked on.

Core raced over to Stalaro and embraced him in a side hug. The deer-like man blushed. “So, what can I help you with this time?”

Stalaro blinked nervously. “C-Can we snuggle?”

Core laughed. “I mean, seriously, why’d you bring me here?”

“My friend, I’m doing some dirty work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services. If that’s okay?”

“You must be joking,” Core said, laughing nervously.

“I don’t think so, motherfucker!” Stalaro replied.

“You thought it’d be a great idea just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I’m some kind of tragic boy?”

“Maybe,” Stalaro sighed, as crying sounds came from his microphone.

“I ain’t doing no dirty work.”

Stalaro appeared behind him. “Well I figured you would be the perfect face to greet and critique the guests at this fine establishment.”

He pointed his staff off toward a stand with vegetable drinks as claps and boos sounded from his staff.

“With your grumpy cat face and love of solitude…”

Core lifted up the corners of Stalaro’s mouth with his paws. “Aw come on, Stal. Don’t forget to smile once in a while!”

His mouth frowned once he let go.

Stalaro walked over to the stand. “Don’t worry, my friend. I can make this more interesting…if you wish.”

He conjured up a bottle of catnip with his finger.

Core stared with wide happy eyes. “What, you think you can buy me with sad eyes and some cheap catnip? Well, you can!” He purred and took the bottle with him.

Caroline, Devil, and Aggy arrived.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Aggy squealed. “Brilliant idea to have healthy drinks!”

“No!” Caroline protested. “This is supposed to be a place that encourages sin! No some kind of, frilly, Zen, child’s play…”

Devil rammed into Caroline. “Shut up! Shut up! We are keeping this!” He pointed all his fingers toward Core and the stand.

Core noticed Devil Grit and slid up to him. “Hey cutie,” he flirted.

“Go screw yourself,” muttered Devil Grit.

“Only if you watch me,” Core joked. “Or more likely, Stalaro will watch you.”

Caroline leaned in close to Core. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. You are going to go insane here!” She grinned, her teeth sharp.

“I lost the ability to go crazy years ago,” Core replied, sniffing the catnip.

Stalaro walked in, an ever-present frown on his face. “S-so, what do you think?”

Caroline ran over to him. “This is horrible!” she spat.

“It’s amazing!” Aggy beamed.

Aggy leaned in close between Caroline and Stalaro, embracing them in a hug.

“This is going to be very disengaging,” Stalaro exclaimed. Dubstep sounds emitted from his mouth as he stared around with worry. He stepped away from Aggy. “Caroline, I can’t lose you. We can’t lose you.”

Stalaro changed his light blue suit into a black funeral outfit. He did the same with Caroline, Devil, Husk, Klutzy, and Aggy, who were all wearing black clothing from the early 1900s. The room changed, the walls now covered with Voodoo symbols, Christian crosses and deer antlers.

“Take it boys,” Stalaro said. Light spirits appeared and played violins, a piano, and a flute in a sad symphony.

Stalaro sang his reprise to Caroline.

(“Stalaro’s lament Reprise”)

“You’re on a mission

Your innocence fell

And it’s so dangerous but hey, I wish you well

Yes your blunt protests

Will send you straight to Hell

And I can’t bear to see you banished, or your soul up to sell”

“Don’t bring your afterlife to an end

No matter what you say, I’m still your friend

We all have our wounds to mend

And you’re vulnerable feelings are real, don’t pretend”

“Inside of every angel is love and emotion

They have values and lasting devotion (devotion to God)

While you recruit those around

Don’t be swallowed by the ground

The authorities can retrieve you tight and bound (no turning around)”

“Here above the sky

Spread your wings and fly

They’ll spend a little time

Down at this Haven Ho…”

An explosion rattled the windows. Klutzy saw a door flying toward her face and she broke it in half with a karate chop.

The room and everyone’s clothing returned to normal.

Everyone looked outside and saw a podium in the air, held up by flying metallic eggs. A familiar snake debater appeared.

“Look who it is harboring the striped annoying opponent! We meet again, Stalaro!”

“Do I know you?” Stalaro asked.

Tears came to Senor’s eyes. “Oh yes, you do! Watch this presentation!”

The eggs danced in the air, singing a song about Senor trying his best to rule Heaven. He read from notecards. “You all can’t compete with me. Your hotel sucks. I…shall…destroy it…with… my…”

Stalaro giggled and blushed.

Senor looked up from his cards in anger. “Not like that, pervert!”

Stalaro snapped his fingers. A portal appeared and white tentacles shot out, knocking the podium off balance. The metal eggs knocked into Pentious Senor and he yelled, “Ow that hurt! Show mercy!”

Stalaro used a drop of his blood and the podium exploded in green smoke.

Senor emerged from the crater, arm shaking, fangs shattered.

“Shoot me with your ray gun,” said a metal egg beside him. Senor face-planted on the ground.

Stalaro looked on, sadly while everyone else stared, stunned.

“Anyone hungry?” Stalaro asked turning around. “Please don’t make me cook jambalaya. It’s way too spicy and it nearly killed me! I much prefer tea and sugared strawberries, oh the way they melt in my mouth… but anyway, you could say the kick brought me straight into Heaven.”

Stalaro lead the way back to the hotel, the group following him.

“Yes sir, new changes are about to take place. Now…”

Stalaro waved his finger at the lit up sign above the glass, gem-encrusted building on the roof.

The sign changed from “Hazbin Hotel” to “Haven Hotel.”

“Stay tuned.” He finished with low whimpers.

#haven hotel #hazbin hotel #heavenuva boss #helliva boss #2p #2p characters #alternate universe

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joshslater · 6 years

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Kyle and Cody

@cashgodcodystrong published a fan-fiction on his blog, and I immediately fell in love with how the protagonist flows in and out of agency. But there were too many things I wanted to put my fingerprints on, so here is my remix.

Cody and I became best friends in middle school, and stayed close all through high school. So it was only natural that we shared an apartment after high school, while we figured out what to do next in life. Living with someone is very different than going to school with someone, and it soon became clear that we weren't as close anymore as we had once been. Our work schedules made us drift apart, and he spent most of the little time that overlapped in the gym, working on his already naturally muscular build. But even though the roof was pretty much the only thing we shared nowadays, I always assumed we were still somehow friends. Not after yesterday.

It was late afternoon and Cody was back from the gym. I joined him less and less often, as I can't really build mass and he had been progressively more taunting about his gains. I was about to go on a date, so I wouldn't have joined him even if he wasn't a dick at the gym. He was wearing his typical, super slim white compression shirt and pants, that leaves very little to the imagination. On top of that a pair of grey athletic shorts, presumably to not be stopped by the police for indecency. He was glistening in sweat. It didn’t look like a single inch of him was dry, despite the high tech materials. Cody plopped down on the couch and put his feet up on the ottoman.

"Hey man, if you’re gonna be sitting on furniture you should probably clean up first. You’re soaked." "Yeah, nah..." "Stop being a jerk man, get off my couch, you’re gonna leave stains." "I’m not getting up." "Dude what’s wrong with you? Get the fuck up off my couch! Take a shower!" "How about I sit here, and you get down on the floor and take off my shoes for me." "Just get off the couch."

I started to approach him. When I was in reach of his feet I froze. "Come on, take off my shoes."

My face fell blank and I slowly got to my knees so that Cody's feet were at my chest.

"Now take them off", he said and nudged my chest with his foot. I stared at the foot that nudged me and slowly put both of my hands on it. The shoe was warm. My mouth fell open in disbelief as I pulled his shoe off. I looked up in shock and confusion, and saw Cody grinning.

"Good boy, now the other one", he said as he put his socked foot on my shoulder while I reached for his other foot. I pulled off the shoe, and his foot went right into my face. His socks were black, short and almost soaked.

"Hahaha! Un-fucking-believable, you’re like a robot", he said while moving his foot across my whole face, holding my head in place with the other foot behind the back of my head. He pulled his feet back, and saw my shocked expression along with the sweat he left on my face. My hair was damp, and I was engulfed in the sour scent of fresh foot sweat and funky gym shoes. I still had time for a shower before my date, if I’d hurry.

"Hahahaha! Sorry buddy, you wanted to learn the hard way. How, about you give this feet a good rub?” I started rubbing his warn, damp feet. "And thank me that I’m letting you do this." "Thank you." "Kiss my foot." I planted a kiss on the socked foot in my hands. "Hahaha, I can’t believe that you are doing this. I wonder how I get you out of this 'mode'?"

He stood up in front of me, my head was almost eye level with his crotch. He placed his hand around my face and made me look up to him. He caressed my cheek with his thumb.

"Okay, you can be free."

I quickly grabbed his hand and pulled it away from my face.

"Cody!" "Hahaha! You should have seen yourself. You were on your fucking knees kissing my feet." "Cody! What the fuck did you do? How did you do it?" "You were like, ‘master Cody you are the best, master Cody I love your sweat’" "No, the fuck I was not!" "Fuck yeah, you were." "No–"

Cody violently grabbed the back of my head and pushed it towards his balls, and slapped my cheek.

"Tell me you love it" "I–" "Okay, you’re going to wear my sweaty clothes to your date." "I love your sweat" "I know you do, and I think you need a whole day to really enjoy it"

I panicked. This was my first date with this girl I was interested in, and I couldn't meet her while wearing his gym clothes, even if they had been freshly washed.

"You can be free."

I sat at his crotch with my nose near his balls. It was humiliating, but I didn’t want to risk going out looking, or smelling, like Cody.

"Look who’s being a good boy? You wanna give it a kiss for good luck?"

I got chills down my spine. I didn’t want to be anywhere near his balls. I didn’t know what to do next. Was doing what he wanted the best, for now? I closed my eyes and quickly gave his crotch a peck kiss.

"Hahaha, I guess I’m a pretty good damn teacher. Now undress so you can put my clothes on."

"But! I kissed your–" "Do you want to lick my ass before you go?"

I froze mid sentence, went to the bathroom and took off my clothes.

"Hey, if you want my clothes you’re going to have to put them on out here."

I don’t want your clothes, I thought as I got out of the bathroom with one hand on my crotch. Cody was naked but wasn’t hiding anything, lounging in the corner of my couch, legs spread wide, showing off his huge dick he's been so proud of since middle school.

His clothes were dropped in a pile in front of him. I grabbed his white compression pants, and tried to put them on quickly to avoid standing naked in front of him. I ended up tripping over, almost face planting in his crotch, because his wet bundle of clothes were so unruly to put on.

"Don’t worry about your clit. It's not like she will have a bulge to look at once you’re in pants."

Awkwardly I managed to put them on, and the equally difficult compression shirt, and the two wet socks. I finished with the damp exercise shorts. How the fuck could he sweat this much? Of the two of us I probably had most sweat on me now. I certainly smelled the worst.

"I think you’re forgetting something". In his hand was one of his shoes that he had relaced while I was preoccupied struggling with his clothes. He held it with the opening towards me, toes up, like a muzzle.

I got down on my knees next to him and put my face in it. He pushed it in hard so my chin fit into the heel and the upturned tongue of the shoe pressed against the ridge of my nose. He then tied the shoe laces tight around the back of my head, so the tip of my nose and chin touched the sole inside the shoe.

"Okay, now you’re ready to go on your date, hahahahaha."

I stood up with his warm shoe on my face. It smelled so much worse than his socks and feet.

Then all of a sudden I forgot about what I was wearing. I searched the pockets of the gym shorts and asked Cody, “Have you seen the keys to my car?”, muffled through his shoe, as if it was normal. His face was just a giant smirk. He followed me around the apartment as I looked for my keys, looking like he would burst into laughter at any moment. As if he had hidden the keys or taped them to my back or something. Finally, and with little time to spare, I found the keys in the pocket of a pair of trousers I’d hastily left in the bathroom.

"How about you just go to bed like you are, have some sweet dreams and let me know how you're feeling tomorrow?"

"I guess that’s okay", I said in a monotone voice.

"I can’t believe it. I am a god!", I heard Cody say as I went into my room.

I laid down in bed with his shoe on my face and his sweaty compression clothes hugging me. I vaguely remember doing the motions of undressing, but not actually removing any clothes, and going to bed as if I was naked. I immediately fell asleep and blissfully dreamed about Cody's body, his abs, his sweat, his arms, his clothes, his scent, his feet, his shoes.

I woke up in shock, still wearing his damn shoe on my face like a fucking Alien face hugger. It was still warm, but now from my breath. All the moisture had brought forward a deeper, muskier stench. I unsuccessfully yanked it in panic a few times, and frantically started to untie the hard knot behind my head, threw the shoe across the room, and jumped out of bed.

The clothes felt dry, but reeked of Cody. I reeked of Cody. The bed reeked of Cody. The whole room was filled with the smell of Cody, his sweat, his feet, his shoes. I felt unclean and violated, more than ever before in my life. His stink was ingrained into my pores, like a branding. I wanted him off me.

I started pulling off his compression shirt, feeling it peeling away from my skin, tugging where it had dried to my body. I threw it in a corner, and the shorts after. The compression pants were nearly as unhelpful coming off as they had been getting on. The upper parts that had been covered by shorts were still damp.

The socks were damp too, as sleeping with clothes on, and a shoe inhalator, had made me sweat under the covers. The mix of my and Cody’s feet juices took the stink in the room to a new level. I rushed out of my room, towards the bathroom. I wanted to shower in bleach to get his scent off me, his smell out of my nose, the taste of him out of my mouth.

I spent probably half an hour in the shower, really soaking in the hot water. Standing face up, gargling water in my mouth. Repeatedly lather in citrusy soap and rinsing it off. I don’t know why I had reacted in such distress and panic. I’d only slept a night in someone else’s clothes, after all. I could imagine a scenario where I would wear his damp workout gear voluntarily. Say I exit the shower at the gym and someone had taken all my clothes with him. If Cody had offered his clothes for the way home, I sure would have taken him up on it. But it was the way he’d made me do it that made me feel violated. Perhaps it was mind tricks, but I couldn’t shake him. I probably imagined it, but it felt like I now smelled of citrus and Cody. When I brushed my teeth I tasted mint and Cody.

Just as I was about to leave the bathroom I went into the shower again for a few seconds, until I was dripping wet. Then I went into my room and put on the compression pants and compression shirt. Then the socks and the shorts. I picked up the shoe and walked out into the living room, where the other shoe sat in front of my couch. I sat down, fixed the lacing and put both shoes on. I leaned back where Cody sat yesterday and let my wet body inside his clothes make the smell of stale gym bag come to life.

Now I am really scared.

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bee-kathony · 6 years

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The Oath | Ch. 1 - “Discoveries”

Reeling from a bad breakup, Claire finds comfort with a stranger, Jamie Fraser — owner of Fraser & Co. the newest Whisky company in Edinburgh. They share their pain, loss and dreams, after all… it was just supposed to be one night together.

a/n: Hello there! This is a brand new fic I’ve been working on and am so excited to finally share this with everyone! I hope you enjoy and can’t wait for the rest of this story to unfold xx

January 20th, 2019

Claire was running late (as usual), and had just texted Frank to let him know she was on her way home from work. Being promoted to Chief Resident at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, while amazing and the highlight of her career thus far, also came with its obvious stress. She had been late more times than she had been early since her new role and while Frank was a forgiving man, Claire knew he could only take so much of her tardiness.

But it’s not like Frank had been perfectly punctual in their entire four year relationship. A history professor at Edinburgh University, Frank Randall had his fair share of late nights grading papers and tutoring students.

A quiet ding came from Claire’s pocket and she pulled it out to check the message.

Frank: No rush

“No rush he says,” Claire muttered under her breath as she wrapped her scarf loosely around her neck. “We’ll see if you’re in the same mood when I get home, shall we?”

Claire had an awful habit of talking to herself and had received her fair share of odd looks on the street and on public transportation. She held her own however, being born and raised in England by strong and loving parents, Claire wasn’t afraid to be herself — strange habits and all.

Edinburgh had become a second home to her after she finished university at Oxford. That’s where she had met Frank who was a teaching assistant in one of her classes. They began dating, taking things slow at first but soon Claire found herself packing her bags and following him to Scotland — a country she had never even been to before.

Call it love, call it a foolish thing to do, but Claire adored Frank and had no regrets about uprooting her life.

Twenty minutes later, Claire unlocked the door to her home, relishing in the warmth as she stomped her snow clad feet on the welcome mat.

“Frank, I’m home!” She called out, but heard no response.

Unbuttoning her brown tweed coat, Claire slid her arms out of it and laid it across the chair in the entryway. How odd. Frank was usually home at this time of day and always called out to her when she entered.

Brushing it off as nothing but good thick walls, Claire strolled into the kitchen to see what Frank was making for dinner. Even odder. There was nothing on the stove — no pots or pans, and no glasses of wine waiting on the counter to welcome her home after a long day.

This wasn’t like Frank to not cook dinner, especially on Fridays, their home date nights. Checking her phone for any missed messages, she saw no new notifications and so she laid her phone out on the counter and resolved to search the house.

“Frank?” She called out his name as she climbed the stairs to their bedroom. If she was being honest with herself, his lack of presence around the house shouldn’t be too out of character… especially recently.

They had been having problems, as most couples do at some point in their relationship. Claire wasn’t too much of a fool in love to admit that Frank had his flaws — as did she. At times, she found herself flinching when he raised his voice above normal volume because the phone company had billed them wrong again. Or when he smashed his fists down on the table angrily whenever Claire had told him about applying for the Chief position at work.

He was always supportive of her dreams, but not when they got in the way of their time as a couple. This was all very understandable — who wouldn’t be upset that their significant other would ultimately be spending less time with them? But Frank had held it over her head… her commitment to her job. Even if he didn’t voice his every thought out loud to her, Claire had felt the iciness in his touch the past couple of months and the greedy way he came to her in the night, spreading her legs and entering her without warning.

She often wondered what her parents would think of Frank if they were still alive. Henry and Julia Beauchamp died in a terrible car accident when she was only fourteen and since then she had been under her Uncle Lamb’s guardianship. Her uncle had been her rock when she lost both her parents, and had encouraged her to follow her dream to become a doctor and save lives — making up for the sheer fact that she wasn’t able to save her parents lives.

The light was on at the end of the hall in their bedroom, and for some reason Claire felt that she needed to be quiet as she padded down the hardwood floor.

“Frank?” She tapped her knuckles softly on the door before pushing it open. “Are you in here, love?”

“In the bathroom, Claire! Just a moment,” came Frank’s muffled voice from behind another closed door to her right.

Looking around the room, Claire noticed that their bedroom was slightly disheveled and wondered what Frank had been doing. He always kept the house in tip top shape, not a chair out of place which frankly annoyed Claire to no end. A home was supposed to be lived in, not simply a shell to hold furniture and things.

Her feet were sore from a long day of speed walking through the hospital hallways and Claire stepped out of her tennis shoes — boring and bland, the kind that were stereotypical for doctors. The sound of running water came from the bathroom and Claire sighed to herself, impatient for Frank to come out.

As she took another look around her room, Claire noticed something sparkle out of the corner of her eye on the nightstand. With her heart racing, Claire glanced at the bathroom door before going over to inspect the sparkly object.

It was an earring. And not one of hers.

In a matter of a few short seconds, Claire’s world turned on its axis. She looked down at the small diamond in her hand and felt hot tears well in her eyes. Her throat was tight and her breath caught in between her ribs like someone had punched her.

She should have known. Frank had been somewhat aloof the past few weeks, his attitude completely shifted from how he used to act. What used to be heated arguments over dinner about her attending another work conference over the weekend, turned into a nod of the head and a “See you on Monday,” farewell.

But he clearly still felt comfortable using her body for pleasure whenever he needed it. Just last night, Frank had kissed the back of her neck sending a chill down her spine. Needing to feel some kind of human comfort from the stress of her hectic week, Claire had rolled over to face him and joined together with him.

Her belly was coiled tight now and she slid her fingers down over her neck, breasts and stomach, fingers trembling at the thought of those same fingers she knew well on another woman.

The bathroom door opened with an ear splitting creak and Claire froze, her back turned away from him.

“Sorry about that darling, I was just in the shower — had a hard day at work,” Frank said and came up behind her, his hands sliding up her back and over her shoulders.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered and she wondered if he had even heard her. An answering squeeze to the tight knots in her shoulders told her that he hadn’t.

“I said don’t touch me, Frank,” Claire said it a little louder and finally turned around to face him. The sight of his face — the hard lines that decorated his cheeks, the chiseled jaw and brown eyes made her sick now, almost violently so.

“Claire, what’s gotten into you?” He looked at her with almost a scowl, as if it was her that had done something wrong.

Afraid that her words would fail her, she lifted up her fist to Frank and slowly, one finger at a time opened her hand to reveal the diamond earring of his lover.

“Fuck,” he said under bated breath. So it was true.

Claire dropped the traitorous piece of jewelry onto the floor between their feet and stormed for the door. She was jerked back by Frank’s grip on her arm and she whirled around, slapping him with a force so strong her hand stung.

“Jesus, Claire!”

“A hard day at work?!” Claire felt the strength return to her voice as she spoke, and smirked as he rubbed his red cheek. “The only thing that was hard about your day was your cock, Frank.”

“Claire,” he sighed and his hands rested on his hips which were only clad in a towel. “Can we please be civil about this? You must have known, surely—“

“Civil? For fucks sake, Frank!” Claire scoffed and spun on her heel, heading towards the closet to retrieve an overnight bag. Thankfully her best friend, Geillis lived just a few streets over. There was no way Claire could fathom spending another night under this roof.

The fact that Frank wasn’t putting up a fight gave her mixed emotions. On one hand, it made it easy to hate him, but on the other… it only crushed her, making her feel pathetic — like she wasn’t someone worth fighting for.

“Just tell me,” she said seriously as she came back into the room, bag hastily packed. “Do I know her?”

She saw the twitch of his eye and thought she might be sick right there on the carpet.

“You’ve met her a few times,” he confirmed and sat down on the bed. “Her name is Sandy and she works with—“

“Oh spare me the details, please!”

“I’m sorry, Claire. This isn’t exactly how I wanted this to happen.”

Claire looked at him, a feeling of grief for their relationship washing over her, and only felt hatred for this man.

“It isn’t?” She laughed, an almost evil witch sounding laugh. “So you were planning on still sleeping with me while you had your affair? Were you ever planning on telling me?”

“There were conversations,” he mumbled, “Between Sandy and I about ending it.”

“Ending your affair?”

“No,” he said defensively and looked up at her. “About ending our relationship.”

Claire closed her eyes, counted to three, took a deep breath and walked out of the room. There was no use in further discussion with Frank because it wouldn’t be a discussion, only an excuse to make her look like a bigger fool than she already felt.

When she reached the front door, she heard footsteps on the stairs behind her and paused, her hand on the doorknob.

“Claire?”

“Yes?” She said this to the door. Claire wouldn’t spend another minute looking at his face. A face she had loved and spent lazy mornings running her fingertips over. A face that had once looked at her with so much love it was as if she was his whole world.

“You will come back to collect the rest of your things, right?”

“Fuck you, Frank Randall.” She opened the door quickly and slammed it shut behind her, clutching her overnight bag tightly.

As she walked down the street, every step taking her closer to Geillis, she began to look for her phone to tell her friend she was coming over.

“Damn it,” she cursed, her hands franticly searching her jean pockets for her phone. Claire began to shiver in the cold January air and realized that in her haste to get out, she had left her coat on the front chair… along with her phone on the kitchen counter.

There was no way she could return to that house, even if it was to retrieve her phone. Her dignity would not be squashed another time tonight. Instead, Claire wiped away the few frustrated tears that leaked from her eyes and kept walking, only hoping that Geillis was home.

When her trembling hand rang the doorbell and the red headed woman opened the door, Claire’s bottom lip shook and she collapsed into her open arms.

++++++

“There, that’ll fix ye right up,” the ginger scot said as she handed Claire a full glass of whisky. They had stood on Geillis’ doorstep for five minutes before Claire managed to pull herself together enough to make it to the couch.

“Now,” Geillis took a seat beside her, pulling the fuzzy blanket over her feet. “Will ye tell me what the hell happened tonight?

Taking a long sip for bravery, Claire swallowed deeply letting the liquid burn down her throat. Her right hand fidgeted with a loose thread on the couch and she kept her eyes forward on the roaring fire as she spoke, giving Geillis a play by play of her eventful evening.

“That fucking bastard!” Geillis all but stood up, her face beaming red to match her hair. She set aside her own glass of whisky and gathered Claire into her arms. “I’m sae sorry, lass.”

“I just feel so stupid,” Claire wiped at her nose. “When I think back, I knew there was something off but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I just didn’t want to let myself think he would still be sleeping with me while he had an affair.”

“He’s a damn fool, Claire. I never liked him and ye ken it well. The moment ye introduced us, I felt my wame turn and I got weird vibes,” Geillis rose from the couch and refilled both their glasses.

Claire welcomed the whisky as it warmed her body. It was like a balm to her wounded soul and made her mind fuzzy. She wanted to curl up in a ball under the covers and imagine that this entire night hadn’t happened.

“Ye ken yer welcome to stay here as long as ye need.”

“Thank you,” Claire smiled sadly and then remembered. “I will need a massive favor from you.”

“Of course, I’ll do anythin’ for ye,” Geillis smiled and gave her leg a gentle pat.

“I don’t think I can face going back into that house. Would you be able to collect my things for me tomorrow? I also left my phone on the kitchen counter,” she sighed.

Geillis nodded and pulled out her own phone. “I’ll make a list of everything so I dinna forget.”

“You really are the best friend a girl could ever ask for,” Claire smiled and then felt a new wave of tears come about, but this time they were happy tears of gratitude.

“Och, dinna cry, Claire — ye’ll only make me start,” Geillis pulled her in to another embrace, stroking her unruly mop of curls between her fingers.

“Sorry,” she sniffed again.

“Ye’ve nothin’ to be sorry about, lass. Now… tomorrow I’ll go and get all yer wee things, but I’m afraid tomorrow evenin’ I canna be wi’ ye, that is unless ye wanted to come wi’ me to Broch Mordha.”

“Broch Mordha? What’s up there?” Claire sat up slightly, trying to recall the geography of Scotland.

“Och, tis a small town, but a few friends of mine ken of a local distillery that is launching their new whisky and I promised to go wi’ them to the grand opening.”

“Oh,” Claire thought about her work schedule and realized thankfully that she had the next three days off. “I don’t mind tagging along, that is if it’s alright.”

“Are ye sure?” Geillis asked. “I would prefer if ye did come just so I can keep an eye on ye to make sure ye dinna off yerself.”

“Geillis!” Claire laughed, a welcome sound and hit her friend on the arm. “I’m not there… yet.”

Geillis winked at her and pulled her into another hug, “That’s my lass. Let’s get ye into a nice hot bubble bath and then off to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll deal wi’ whatever comes yer way.”

They both rose from the couch and Claire followed Geillis to the bathroom. For the first time that day, Claire looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself. Her riotous brown curls were a frizzy mess around her slim face which was looking haggard. Bags under her red eyes from the crying and puffy cheeks to add — she didn’t feel too hot.

Once the bath was ready, she shed her layers and climbed in slowly, letting her body adjust to the changing temperature. Claire laid her head back against the bath, eyes fixated above her on a black speck on the white ceiling.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” she muttered and submerged herself under the water, letting the weight of the world wash away.

Chapter 2 “Strange Whisky Man”

#the oath #outlander fanfic #mclairefras #claire fraser #jamie will come soon enough #dinna fash #discoveries #FINALLY #chapter one

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toothedsmile · 5 years

Text

The puppeteer: Chapter six

Masterlist

Chapter six: A hero’s job

Warnings!!: mention and the action of suicide, down talking and mentions of depression.

Please don’t force yourself to read if aren’t comfortable with these topics. If you need someone to talk to don’t be afraid to speak to me. I’ve been stuck and sometimes still am with these kind of thoughts so please. Don’t be afraid to speak to me. I care about you even if I don’t know you.

Once again you were awoken by the sound of your alarm in your ear. You stood up and cursed yourself for putting it on the highest volume even though you knew that if it were any lower you wouldn’t have woken up.

You did your daily routine and mentally prepared yourself for another day at hell school.

Once downstairs you noticed that your dad left you a message saying that he couldn’t be there in the morning this week and that your mother was working late. With a deep sigh you took your breakfast and decided that while your parents weren’t at home you could eat in front of the T.V.

Taking the remote you turned on the T.V and saw that it was still on the rerun from the news from last night.

Your eyes widened as you saw that they were talking about an attack from yesterday from villains at the U.A school in the location USJ, a special training place but you didn’t know the full meaning of the name.

It seemed that the attack was done to kill All Might and happened when the first years for the hero course class 1-A were there to do rescue training.

With furrowed eyebrows you kept shoving food into your mouth and soaked in the information the news gave about the villains, you know, in case you had to run for your life when you bump into a random person on the streets and they appear to be a villain trying to murder you for bumping into them.

Once you had done whatever was needed for your next day at school you packed everything up and decided to leave as you only had fifteen minutes before your class started and you didn’t want to be late.

Having arrived at school you looked around for your friend, as you were walking you heard people around you talking about the USJ incident. Some were worried for the class and others were speaking how they totally would’ve defeated the villains if they had been there even though anyone could see in their eyes that they were scared to even properly think about it.

Feeling something tap on your shoulder you turned around and saw your friend standing there with a smile.

“So have you thought about it yet? Becoming a vigilante?”

With wide eyes you slapped them on their shoulder.

“Are you crazy! Do you want people to hear this and get the police on my ass? What if somebody heard?”

Just as your friend waved their hand in a relaxed manner to try and prove you wrong you both heard a voice that silenced you two.

“Hear what if I may ask?”

With and audible gulp you turned around to look at the speaker and saw Ilya standing there with one of his eyebrows raised.

Freaking out a bit your friend grabbed your shoulder and started dragging you to the stairs leading to the hallway of your first class.

“Huh, hear anything?? Nothing! But oh no, would you look at that it’s almost time for the bell to ring –“

“-It’s still five minutes?-“

“-We should be going now, bye bye!”

And so you ended up standing in an empty hallway in front of your class in complete silence.

Except for the fact that you were glaring at your friend so hard that one might have been able to hear the laser coming from your eyes that bore into the head of F/N as they stood there with a bit of sweat dripping from their face as they tried to avoid looking at your general direction.

It was your last hour of the day and your friend didn’t bring the topic of you becoming a possible vigilante up again during the whole duration of the day.

“Alright everyone, this is it for today’s lesson about radiation. Be sure to look over what we’ve learned again and don’t be afraid to ask questions, I’d be happy to help you.”

One of your most favourite teachers this year said that you were all allowed to leave with a pleasant smile. Walking side by side with your friend towards the school gate wasn’t awkward.

The only thing awkward was that they kept walking with you to your house even though they lived somewhere else and had to catch a bus.

“Not that I don’t like you walking with me but don’t you have bus to catch?”

They shook their head with a small smile and looked you right in the eye.

“I’m coming to your house. I know your parents work late right now so we have some time to talk.”

Sighing you accepted your fate, you knew they wouldn’t let you go anyway and would just keep bothering you.

“Fine then, we’ll talk about your oh so important question.”

You both continue walking towards your house in a slightly awkward but mostly comfortable silence.

Once having arrived you went to your bedroom and sat down onto your bed.

“So, did you actually think about it?” Your friend questioned, head tilted slightly in curiosity.

You leaned back on your hands, looking upwards to the ceiling in slight thought. “I mean, I thought about it. I would like to be a vigilante. By the time I would actually get into UA or any other great hero school a year or more would’ve already passed at least. I think. Besides, it would show what hero work is you know.”

F/N nodded at your answer, they understood your reasoning. “I’ll help with it. Of course I won’t be a vigilante but I’ll do my best to help you out.”

Suddenly they stood up and clapped in their hands as they turned to you with an excited smile.

“Start today! I already thought that you would say yes so I managed to make a quick costume that is a actually a hoodie that modified to hide your…you know. And some pants that I thickened at your knees.”

With a deadpanned expression you turned to your friend that slowly turned into a ‘really?’ expression.

“Did you…Did you seriously? Oh my god, I honestly sometimes can’t believe you.”

Shrugging they took their backpack and took out a black hoodie, a pair of black pants and a basic black dust mask with no design or anything else that would be easily identified.

None of the clothes were visibly from any brands so you really liked that, it seemed that F/n had actually used their one and only braincell.

“I don’t know whether to be proud of you or to be slightly mad.”

They smiled innocently and batted their eyes at you. “Just be proud of me.”

You changed into the clothes and actually felt a bit badass in them.

“Alright, your hair cant be visible so just in case you’ll have to put up your hood and try to find some hairpins to pin it back.”

Slightly surprised you turned to F/N again, mouth a bit open with surprise at the fact that they seemed to talk so freely about you going out and being a vigilante with tips about your hair.

“Did you like research ‘how to vigilante’ or something?”

Smiling they avoided to properly answer you and just gave a shrug with a smile that screamed “maybe I did.”

You had put your hair back, even finding a headband that you put at the front of your head so the roots of your hair wouldn’t be seen.

“Alright, you still have some time before it becomes dark but I really have to go home or my parents might become angry or something.”

They gathered their stuff and said bye to you as they ran to a bus stop in the hopes of getting a bus so they could get home in time.

Sitting on your bed you rethought about your choice of becoming a vigilante. Perhaps you had made the decision to fast and hasty. While yes, you could get to helping people like you wanted while also getting experience in the job of being a hero that you wouldn’t get in and actual hero school but was it really such a good idea?

You had never done anything like this and you had yet to unlock new possibilities with your quirk.

Dropping yourself back onto your back on you bed you continued thinking about your totally ration decision.

Time had passed and it was now dark outside, deciding to go trough with your plan you readied yourself mentally and sneaked out of your house.

Walking on the streets at night knowing that there were most likely criminals and murderes roaming around waiting for a victim was very frightening to think about. But knowing that people who were required to walk around this time because of their jobs or other personal things could be in possible danger was enough to make you keep going even with the possibility of becoming injured.

As you were walking you thought about how you weren’t really able to see a lot of things around you, and that didn’t have anything to do with the fact that it was dark but it was because of the walls and many alleyways that were everywhere and blocked your sight.

Your eyes wandered around and suddenly you looked at a roof, your eyes kept wandering around to see if there was a fire escape that could give you access to a roof so you could look around from above with an even wider sight of where you were.

Sadly enough you didn’t find one that was in your physical reach but was most defiantly in the reach of your lovely strings.

Hoping that they wouldn’t snap you pulled yourself up and surprisingly you didn’t feel anything in your fingers and your string were quite strong.

Finally you got on top of the roof and looked over the side, the view was very pretty, the lights were shining brightly like earthly stars and the few cars riding around gave some movement to the picture.

Using the memory part of your quirk you captured the sight into your brain, but as you kept looking at the other roofs you saw another figure standing on the ledge of a very high building.

Your eyebrows furrowed with concern and you decided to go check out what was going on with the person.

With the help of your quirk you got to the other roof that was barely two minutes away and landed a few meters behind the person who after hearing the taps of your feet turned around surprised with wide eyes.

Their eyes locked with yours and you both kept looking at each other for a little while before they spoke up.

“Who are you?” They stepped a bit away from the ledge getting a little closer to the middle of the roof.

“I’m just someone who’s running around with a mask trying to help people. I saw you standing here and I got a bit worried.”

Confused they tilted their head as they looked at you with question. “Why would you be worried about someone you never met?”

Smiling softly beneath your mask as your eyes got a gentle look in them you stated answering them.

“It might seem selfish but I feel better when I help someone.”

They blinked, they hadn’t expected that you’d answer them honestly believing you to be some one who would pretend to be a hero just to stab them in the back.

“Why are you standing here?”

They seemed to get a bit uncomfortable at the question as their eyes looked away from you and their body turned a bit to the side as to hide way from you.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me but do you mind if I guess?”

Your only answer was a shrug and an uncaring face that became devoid of emotion.

“Did you come here to kill yourself?”

Their shoulders tensed and they looked back to the edge, slowly stepping closer.

“Yes, I did. You actually managed to distract me for a little while but I really have to continue so if you won’t mind I would wish to keep going with I was doing.”

You started stepping towards them but stopped as they moved even closer to the edge.

“Wait please. Don’t, please don’t do this. This isn’t the right thing. I don’t know your life, I don’t know your thoughts but I can understand why you’d do this. I’ve been there myself but please. If you keep living you will find something worth living for.”

Their eyes looked at you from the side, hesitation was filled within him but they hardened and they looked down from the ledge. They lifted their leg over the edge, slowly leaning forward.

“I’m sorry but I can’t, I just can’t stay here anymore. It hurts so much.” Tears dripped from their eyes and they went.

“Wait! No stop! WAIT DON’T JU-!”

Their whole body tilted as they fell from the roof.

Everything seemed to go in slow-motion as you ran to where they stood, your strings shot out as fast as they could behind the person in the hopes of stopping them, saving them, helping them.

But you were too late.

They fell down to their death and there was nothing you could do about it.

Frozen and with wide eyes you looked at the red splotch on the ground far down from you that turned into a blur and vanished as tears came into your eyes.

You body felt empty, your heart seemed to stop and you couldn’t think about anything except for the fact that you were too late.

Your breathing became faster as you became nauseous, you clasped your hand on your mouth as you felt your food coming back up but you managed to hold it back.

On shaking legs you backed away from the ledge, slowly going faster as you ran home to the safety of your room and covers.

Getting there you changed yourself with shaking hands, they could barely hold anything.

Grabbing your phone you called the police.

“Hello this is the police, how may we help you?”

With a shaking voice you spoke. “I-I s-saw someone, they – they jumped. I –“

You spoke about the person, the place here they jumped.

The person on the other side asked for your name but you answered that you just didn’t want to think about it anymore and they understood as you said your age.

They spoke that they’d ask perhaps call you back for what you saw and hung up after saying goodbye.

Sleep didn’t come until a few hours before you would have to start for school but you didn’t think about that as the same scene kept playing in your head as if it wouldn’t leave you alone.

And so you stayed there, traumatised for the rest of the day.

#bnha x reader #bnha #reader insert #bnha various x reader #bnha midoriya izuku x reader #bnha bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha todoroki shouto x reader #bnha various

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eye-raq · 6 years

Text

Ember 8

The Ride Continues.

Erik Stevens x Kimora Myers.

Summary: For this stage along the journey of Kimora and Erik being together, Erik spends some time with his client and new friend Cyprine. Erik and Cyprine POV

So Ember PART ONE will be exactly 15 chapters. Chapter 15 will be a 15A and 15B.

“Right on the edge of fear was where trust could grow” - Cherise Sinclair

@panthergoddessbast @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @hearteyes-for-killmonger @killmongersprncss @thehonorablekingerik @thehomierobbstark @vikkidc @allhailnjadaka @killmonger-dolan @killmongersaidheyauntie @killmongersgurl @erikismybitch @killmongerskingdom @killmongersmistress @killmongerthirst @killmongerthiskoochie @hdkween @erikslulbaby @killmongerkink @supersizemeplz @marvelpotterlove @itsangeludaku@itsangeludaku @hidden-treasures21 @wawakanda-btch @bidibidibombaclaat @iamrheaspeaks @drsunshine97 @laketaj24 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @loosewindmill @janelledarling @unfriendly-blk-hottie @uhlxis @softnani @muse-of-mbaku @princesskillmonger @amarvelhoe @simplyyamberr @purple-apricots @chaneajoyyy @blowmymbackout @forbeautyandlife @wayla-kayla @tamagxcci @thedelightfulone @killmonger-bakari @disneysdarlingdiva @nickidub718 @lucidaquarian @missumuch1918 @wakanda-inspired @kaytauru @wakandantings @hairhattedhooligan @onyxvixen-writer @lostgalaxies @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @destinio1

California called for rain that day; the liquid pouring down like hail almost. It was a humid rain; the kind where your skin felt sticky and everything clung to your body. It mistifies in the air and tracks this evergreen smell that reminds you of the tropics. As for Erik, he enjoyed the weather. The smell and the way the wind blew was his perfect utopia while he finished up on his client's car.

Cyprine.

[My name is Cyprine, but you can call me C.C]

The girl he met not so long ago. Her Acura was definitely up to par;, especially for her standards. Erik could practically hear her sassy words cascading off her sharp tongue, causing him to smile and shake his head. He cranked some music, YG 10 TIMES playing on his Beats Pill.

Erik wipes in a circular motion over the brand new car engine that resides within her car, visibly pleased with his skills. It was crisp and shiny; the cast iron and aluminum alloy acting as a reflection as Erik smugly stared down into it.

You couldn’t tell him shit. Erik was THAT DUDE when it came down to fixing cars, even that dude in general.

He didn’t have the title for best Mechanic in Cali for nothing. He softly closed the hood of her car, lifting from his crouched position to wipe along the length of the car. His waterproof all black Timberlands dragged loudly along the concrete flooring and the tank top he wore clung to his tacky russet reddish-brown skin from the rain, stained in car engine oil.

A crack of thunder broke out, but Erik didn’t jump. He let out a breath before pulling out his phone, calling up Cyprine to give her the go-to come through and get her car.

“Guess who?” He leaned against her car, folding his legs.

“The guy who’s turning my Lucifer into sex on wheels.”

He chuckled softly, scratching his brow.

“Bingo.”

“That’s music to my ears...is it cool to come through now? I’m a little antsy as you could probably tell.”

“Depends if the weather is your best friend, it’s pretty crazy out there Cyprine.”

“And? I wanna feel that familiar leather on my back again Erik.”

Erik shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine by me, I’m here so.”

“Cool, be there in 20.”

———

Cyprine hung up with Erik, pulling up her lyft app right before clocking out from her job as an assistant curator at the Getty Center. It was a simple shift for her today, the cozy warmth of her office space giving her a comforting feel on this gloomy day. She had the task of assisting the lead curator in assembling and presenting the new renaissance exhibit set to start the following Monday. She closed her MacBook, unfolding her deep bronze shapely legs, sliding back from her desk. Cyprine has a natural strut that radiated erotica, walking towards her heavy duty antique coat rack that sat in a lone corner near the door to her office.

She picked up her black Akris belted cashmere overcoat, fastening it around her waist, picking up Her umbrella. Her Uber is just 5 minutes away, brown eyes staring at the GPS map of the car; a Dodge Charger, with a driver by the name of Kevin. Grabbing up her bag, she finally made her exit, closing and locking her office door. She felt someone brush past her, turning to find that it was her co-worker; Alicia. Alicia was an accounting manager there at the Getty Center.

“Don’t get that coat too wet now girl, I bet it cost a pretty penny.”

Cyprine looked over her shoulder, a light giggle escaping her lips, curly hair flipping.

“I’ll try not to, take care Alicia be careful out there.”

“Same to you C.C.”

———

Finally exiting the building, her Uber sat patiently and right on time, the heavy rain seemingly letting up and the clouds shifting. The click-clack of her olive green pumps pounded the pavement in a sweet melody, trickles of rain from the puddles splaying out from under her step. Cyprine’s dainty fingers finally grabbing hold of the back seat handle on the right side of the car. She slid in quickly, closing her umbrella and shutting the door with ease. She let out a relaxing breath, flipping her hair over her shoulders.

“Cyprine right?”

“Yes, that would be me.” She eyed the cute young man in the rear view mirror. His eyes lingered for a minute, his oval-shaped pure hazel orbs finally settling on his phone as he started the route.

“Headed over to Golden Speed?”

She looked up as the car headed into traffic.

“You know that mechanic shop?”

“Yeah, it’s the best in Cali.”

Cyprine places a small smile on her lips, Erik himself making its way into her brain.

_________________________

“It’s gonna be about 1500 for the interior design, and then roughly 3000 for the new engine.”

Erik sat behind his desk, twiddling a pen in his hand as he studied a file in front of him that he created for a new client. The phone call was with that very client; a Lakers player.

“You want a good quality engine right? I’m good for it homie, that’s what I’m known for.”

A smile crept up Erik’s lips, then afterward a snicker; clearly, the guy on the other line had said something hilarious.

“Listen, I’m not gonna keep you, bro, just come through in two days and I can get you started...ared take care.”

Erik hung up, lifting from his desk at the same time as he heard that familiar voice.

“Is there an Erik Stevens available? I’m here for a pickup.”

Erik followed that melody of a voice with his ears, finally meeting the eyes of C.C, her hands untying the belt of her fancy black coat, olive green pumps echoing as she walked towards him. A tight yellow turtleneck dress was underneath that very coat, her hair in its natural state, with soft curls, parted on the side.

She reached out her hand playfully, a professional look on her face.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Cyprine.”

Erik cleared his throat, fighting a dimpled smile to keep up with the charade.

“Cyprine huh? It’s a please miss.”

Erik did a bow, kissing her hand playfully, with a waggle of his eyebrows. Cyprine snorted a laughter, pulling her hand away before slapping Erik playfully on the shoulder.

“You miss me, little nigga?” Erik leaned forward on his desk, tilting his head in her face as if daring her to say otherwise.

“Not as much as I missed my Lucifer where is she?!!”

“Patience is a virtue.” His appealing voice replied, lifting from his workstation.

She kissed her teeth, finally removing her cashmere coat and tossing it on Erik’s desk. Erik turned towards her, walking backward in the direction of her car that he covered for a surprise. His eyes roamed over her from her head to her toes, then back up, before finally meeting her eyes again.

“Who the fuck you tryna impress?”

Cyprine held his stare before giving him an evil eye.

“I don’t have to try when it comes down to catching a nigga attention. Men are easy prey.”

Erik’s eyebrows disappeared under his dreads.

“eh, not all guys. Some are predators.” He was visibly amused.

Erik turned to continue his trail, finally stopping in front of her car.

“Now, are you sure you’re ready?”

She felt antsy, her fingers twiddling and feet pacing.

“Yeah, I’m ready just pull the sheet back.”

“No countdown?” Erik suggested with a mild expression on his face.

“No, no. Just do it E.”

Erik gave her a triumphant smirk, gripping the end of the cover before flinging it back in one clean motion, gathering the fabric.

He heard her gasp loud in his ears, that same feeling he always got whenever he made a client happy filling his chest.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD.”

It was beautiful, every single detail she gave him finally made a reality. The candy apple green was dangerous; almost like poison, and she just knew that she would fuck shit up on the road with this baby. The diamond-encrusted headrests that spelled out Lucifer gave her an early 2000s type of feel.

“Fucking sex on wheels.” She stared at it longingly.

“Nasty sex on wheels.” Replied Erik, rubbing the roof of the car.

“Damn Erik. You didn’t come to play did you?”

He opened his arms wide, his ego definitely on a trillion.

“Need I remind you? I’m the one for a reason girl.”

She rolled her eyes into her head, walking up to the car. The look on Cyprine’s face was the look he enjoyed seeing. She was drawn to this new whip and the way her fingers stroked the surface let Erik know that she would make even better use of this.

“Now this what I want you to do.”

Erik motioned with his hand for her to come around to him.

“C’mere, get in the car and start it up.”

Cyprine took no time to walk around towards Erik, stepping in front of him quickly and excitedly, damn near knocking him back with her hips.

“Damn girl.” Erik stumbles a little before catching himself.

“Don’t let me find out you can’t handle curves, Erik.”

He looked slack-jawed like somebody hit him clean across his face. That look had her hollering with laughter.

“I can’t believe you just said some shit like that out your mouth.” That’s all he could muster.

“Shhh.”

She hushed him, finally opening her car door and slipping inside. It smelled like sandalwood and cedar; guessing that it was Erik’s scent that filled her nostrils from the time he spent designing the interior.

Cyprine closed the door, grasping her familiar keys. She turned the ignition, feeling the car rumble under her, vibrating her body.

Erik knocked on her window, causing her to lower it ever so slightly.

“Pump the gas pedal. Don’t hold back either.”

She had a wide-eyed expression, her heeled foot pressing down on the gas pedal in short bursts.

That damn engine.

“You hear that engine girl? 191 Horsepower. You hear the way it’s revving up?”

Both of their eyes locked in a shared understanding.

She pumped it again, letting her foot settle on the gas peddle a little longer, watching Erik’s face contort in absolute pleasure. If you could get off on cars, Erik sure as hell would, she thought.

It was like music to her ears. She felt like she was in a fast and furious movie the way it sounded.

“Fuck me sideways.” She spoke.

“Like you said, sex on wheels right? I think it’ll fuck you more ways than that.”

Cyprine let out a soft chuckle, turning her gaze to Erik. She tilted her head back against the seat, a grateful look in her eyes, and maybe tears?

“Aye! Don’t start that shit girl.”

“I can’t help it! It’s so fucking beautiful.” She wiped at her eyes, groaning.

“I’m such a fucking baby with shit like this.”

Erik opened her car door, holding out his hand to help her out. She pulled at her dress, the fabric bunched up from her sitting.

“It’s no problem with that, you are all around pleased with my work and I’m more than proud to see that look on your pretty face. You looked like a child at Christmas time girl.”

She couldn’t help but to smile at that, the touchy side of her lunging forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, drawing him in for a hug. It happened just as quick as it started, C.C pulling away.

“I’m sorry I felt like you deserved that.”

“Why are you apologizing? It’s just a damn hug you act like you tried to kill me.”

She shoved him.

“Smart ass.”

“You smell good though so it’s coo.”

Erik turned to walk away back to his workstation, pulling out her file.

“Okay so everything is paid for, you like the design. All ends were met so we are good Miss Cyprine. All I need is for you to sign these areas that I have marked with an X, just to confirm everything.”

Cyprine grabbed a ballpoint gold ink pen from a small cup on Erik’s desk, leaning forward to study the script.

“Sign here..” Erik tapped on the paper delicately with his pointer finger.

“Then here…” Cyprine made one last swish of her wrist as she wrote out the fancy cursive of her name in Erik’s signature gold ink.

Erik smiles goofily at her, closing her file and placing it in a neat pile on top of at least 10 others.

“Wow. A hard-working man who makes his money.”

She was impressed. She may not have understood the workings of a mechanical engineer, but she understood hustle, and Erik was that and then some.

“Making money doing what I love. That’s always been my goal.”

She focused her eyes on an empty space between them, before shaking her head slightly, staring down at her fingers.

“Honestly, Erik I really appreciate what you’ve done.”

“Don’t trip, it’s not a problem.”

Her feet were beginning to bother her, finally deciding to seat herself on the edge of his desk.

“Long ass day?” Erik asked.

“Yes. My feet are killing me and I need a drink. It’s a Friday night why the hell not right?”

Erik stroked his beard, both of their eyes meeting before Erik broke it off, a thought surfacing.

“Well, seeing as we’re friends and all, you could cruise through my place. We can get drunk and listen to some music? how’s that sound?”

Cyprine paused, one eyebrow arched perfectly and questioningly.

“Your place?”

“Yeah.” Erik’s shoulders shot up.

“What’s so special about your place?”

“Step foot in it then you’ll see.”

“Well, what if I don’t like it?” She teased.

“You mean what if you LOVE IT.”

“You smug motherfucker.” He was irritating.

“So what’s it gonna be little nigga? Drinking alone? Or drinking with me?”

She pondered that, her eyes squinting on him to try and read any sign of a joke, but he was dead serious.

“Fine. Lead the way host.”

“Yee! That’s what’s up.” His huge brown eyes dancing with humor.

Erik pointed to her Lucifer.

“Let’s see how quick you can keep up with me in these streets with that car of yours.”

She liked a challenge, taking no time to agree with Erik.

“Oh yeah? Well, let’s see then Erik.”

_____________________________

Erik pulled his matte black Audi R8 with gold trimming into the roundabout lobby entrance outside of his luxury loft apartment building. He pulled up to the garage, entering in his personal PIN number to allow access into the garage to park. His favorite spot on the first level was available, pulling in swiftly. The engine made an intense vroom vroom sound, then came to a complete stop, his eyes training on the new and improved Acura pull up behind him. He smiled like the Cheshire Cat, his competitive, fixed eyes watching her window roll down, her curly mane whipping out the window, chocolate face coming into view with a bright white smile.

“You cheater! You lucky I don’t know where you stay I would have been the first one pulling in here.”

“I like how you believe that!! You must not know girl I race cars faster than both of ours stop playing with me!!.”

Erik pulled his head back into his car, finally opening the door to exit, quickly opening the back door to grab his uniform top with the Golden Speed logo embroidered on the small front pocket.

Erik motioned for C.C to follow him towards the revolving doors, the light from the fancy chandelier drawing patterns along those swinging doors. Erik sped in first, quickly twirling the doors to make it difficult for C.C to get through. He watched her annoyed expression, that small hand of hers giving him the finger before lunging forward to squeeze her tiny but voluptuous frame inside. Her heels clicked quickly along the marble flooring before finally making it into the air-conditioned building, coming face to face with extra Erik.

“You see these shoes right? You know it’s such thing as death by heels.”

Erik scuffed folding his arms, eyes falling to her heeled feet and strong calves.

“The way your legs are built you would have been alright C.C.”

“Oh, so I have nice legs?” She questioned slyly, walking ahead of him with a switch in her hips to purposely showcase her stallion legs. They glowed like she was dipped in a bath of essential oils.

“They cool.” Erik shrugged nonchalantly, speeding up to meet her strides, bumping her softly.

Erik made it to the elevators, pressing the ascending button. Cyprine stares at both of their reflections on the elevator directly in front of them, her oval-shaped brown eyes falling on Erik’s purposely low ones. He gave her a wink, followed by a charming smile, causing her to look down at her olive green pumps, watching the way her feet slid across the polished flooring. A soft ding sounded to her right, indicating that the last elevator out of the four was available for them.

“Ladies first.” Erik motioned for Cyprine to go first, reaching out from behind her to hold open the elevator door so it wouldn’t close; it had the tendency to do that in these buildings.

“Such a gentleman Mr. Stevens.” She spoke softly, focusing on Erik’s toned frame enter the elevator, turning his back towards her, his pointer finger pressing number 12. He rested his body against the mirrored wall just behind him, his eyes staring up at the many rows of light panels that littered the ceiling. His arms were folded over each other, fingers resting in the crease of his arms.

The smell that radiated off of him was the smell of rain with a hint of apricot or peach mixed with a woodsy scent. It was masculine but soft and inviting. Cyprine caught herself turning her head towards him to get a better whiff, pausing when she caught sight of him eyeing her down with a curious flicker of his eyebrow.

“Are you smelling me?” He had amusement in the way he asked that as if he were trying to make her feel uncomfortable next to him. She rolled her eyes heavily into her head, almost as if she were possessed. But deep down, Erik knew and I’m sure she knew, the effect that he caused.

“Maybe I am. You’re so close.”

“Hmph...did you know that this elevator space is roughly 80 inches wide? Then I would say about...54 inches in depth from the back wall to the elevator door.”

“I had no clue E...I’m not an expert on such things,” Cyprine commented with sarcasm, making quotations with her fingers.

“Well, the point I’m trying to make is that out of all the space within this elevator...you decide to stay settled next to me.”

Erik continues, leaning his right shoulder against the wall, downcasting his eyes on Cyprine.

“You ever notice how when there is one person on an elevator, they stand in the center, then when someone else comes in that person moves to the corner?”

Erik leaned down towards her face, Cyprine looking forward towards the LED screen, watching the count from each floor.

8, 9, 10…

“You didn’t do that though...your ass just wanted to be near me. Say it.”

“I’m not giving you the satisfaction.”

The elevator dinged, sliding open slow, Erik’s double doors to his loft staring straight ahead.

“Come on little nigga just say it and we can go.”

Cyprine lifted from the elevator wall, flipping her hair like a diva, preparing to make her exit, only to have Erik lunge forward, stepping in front of her to block her from leaving.

“You insufferable ass.” She had her hands on her hips, eyeing him from head to toe with malice.

“You insufferable ass.” Erik mocked, following up with a low dark chuckle that would usually make your knees weak but in this case, Cyprine was hungry, tired, and her pretty pedicured feet wanted freedom from the tight hold her pumps were providing.

“SAY IT. And I’ll let you pass.” He waited there, his eyes never leaving her face; unblinking.

Cyprine’s bratty nature fought to be difficult but that wouldn’t help situations, Erik would simply toy with her further, almost tormenting.

“You smell like a tropical rainforest with a hint of fresh soil and wet oak. HAPPY?!”

Erik had this bewildered look on his face, something she couldn’t quite describe but the way his tongue dragged along the inside of his mouth, those gold slugs shining as if they were freshly polished, and his full lips pulling back over his teeth was evidence that he took that response as a “yes”

“You gonna move or what irky.” She stepped forward, pushing her front against him forcefully to attempt pushing him back and out of the way.

“I love it when you women do that, Y'all actually think you can move all this muscle.” Erik finally stepped away, turning towards his door.

“Just like you men think Y'all always run shit when you don’t be running nothing but ya mouths.” Snapped Cyprine.

“Oh, we gonna have a discussion baby girl when we get in here.”

Erik patted his black cargo pockets, face set in a confused expression, his eyebrows knitted together extra tight. Did I leave them in the ignition? Nah, I couldn’t have that doesn’t make sense, he thought. Did I drop them while coming in the building? Panic set in a little at the thought of misplacing his keys when FINALLY he felt the hard outline of them deep within a lower pocket on the left side of his pants. He let out a sigh, pulling them out swiftly to unlock the doors to his domain.

“For a second there I thought we would have to call a locksmith.” Teased Cyprine.

“Shut up!” Erik barked over his shoulder, finally pushing his doors open, darkness awaiting ahead.

Cyprine watched as Erik disappeared into his Loft, then it was her turn to make a move. She took a tentative step forward, silence within his home as she finally slipped beyond those doors, closing them behind her. Swiftly, the lights one by one ignited the place, shocking her for a moment. She heard Erik’s familiar devious chuckle past the grand foyer, beyond a wall that was littered with many paintings; mostly abstract with amazing color contrast.

She shook her head slowly, stepping around the wall to find Erik perched against a railing that led down a small staircase into his living room area. Cyprine would usually respond to his shenanigans but the sight before she had her lips sealed tight. It was a large adaptable open space. It was beautiful, luxurious with its contrast of creams, browns, and deep royal blues. The wide ceiling to floor windows gave you the best view of downtown with the twinkling lights from the skyscrapers and the bustling cars down below. There was an edgy staircase with a glass railing leading to the upper level, and a matching one going downward towards what she assumed was the basement. She settled at the top of the short staircase, mouth slightly parted and eyes filled with awe and admiration.

“Is it okay to say I told you so yet little nigga?!”

Cyprine settles her gaze back on Erik, eyes flickering to his sock covered feet rubbing into the alpaca fur rug. He had his chin up and chest poked out with pride, winking at her with a smile.

“Not quite. Don’t get your hopes up high I still haven’t seen the entire place yet.” She removed her heels, feet pressing firmly against the polished marble flooring. The lime green color popped against the floor and of course her mahogany skin.

“But your living room area is amazing though, I’ll rate it a 10/10. Who is your interior designer?!! I mean this shit is beautiful.”

“A client of mines, we had small talk and he told me he does interior design work so I hired him. He basically is in charge of keeping up with the look of my home, and I give him free car work.”

Cyprine was VERY impressed by Erik.

“Well, I may need to hire him because DAMN. He’s really good at what he does.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you his info but for now..”

Erik motioned for her to follow him.

“Let me give you a tour of my crib before we let loose.”

Let loose? What was she in for? This was going to be a long night.

Cyprine followed Erik, watching his muscular back, solid and strapping, as he walked ahead of her. Cyprine couldn’t help but train her eyes there, this nigga Erik was BUILT. She didn’t want to comment on his physique, afraid he might not like the approval.

“Dining room, that as you can probably tell I don’t use.”

An asymmetrical glass wine cabinet as big as the staircase above it was outstanding. Every rack was filled with a bottle of wine whether it be white or red, sweet or dry. Cyprine could faintly make out the date 1977 on a bottle of Caymus Cabernet Sauvignon; 40 years old. She then eyed the edgy long brown dining table with matching seats that could hold at least 20 people. There was a simple plant in the middle; what looked to be white roses.

“Wow...how could you not eat in here?” She was genuinely curious.

“More for display honestly, but I have used it for dinner parties with some friends, courtesy to Mama B.”

Mama B? Cyprine briefly wondered about that before Erik continued on, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Give me a rating. You’re not getting out of this one.”

She smiled softly, “10/10 Erik. Now keep going host I’m sure there is plenty more.”

Erik curved a corner, gone from sight for a second until Cyprine finally caught up, the view in front of her practically knocking her back a few notches.

“This is where I throw down girl. Don’t play with me either I can sense the snide comments. Big E can cook baby.”

“Big E can burn some shit” she replied with a small snort.

There was an increase in the pitch of his voice.

“Lil nigga...when you step into my place, beyond those fucking doors, you don’t play with me right?!” He had a slight closed lip smile on his face that she didn’t bother to pay any attention to.

Two sets of kitchen islands sat in the middle with four bar chairs each, quartz countertops even including the ones near the sink, oven, and impressive smart refrigerator in a stainless steel. It was as if she stepped into a kitchen owned by a celebrity chef.

“What the fuck.” She muttered under her breath as she stepped into the fancy kitchen area. This dude even had a walk-in freezer box with a glass door!

“You-I-.”

She couldn’t even speak proper words.

“You-I-what?” He couldn’t hold back the heavily dimpled smile then. The more shocked she looked, the more triumphant it made him.

“Okay, So...I have nothing bad to say about this loft so far. You got the room for me?” She laughed softly, waving him away with her hand.

“It’s coo I’m kidding.”

“I got the room for 4 maybe,” Erik replies with one raised eyebrow.

“Aight so let’s go to our final destination. I’m not gonna drag your little ass all over the place.”

Erik walked around one of the counters, heading back out towards the living room.

Down those stairs they went, the plush carpet comforting her now bearable feet. There was a long hallway to travel down, an archway ahead of them. Finally, within that room, Erik flicked on the lights, throwing his arms out to welcome her into his-

“MAN CAVE.”

walls were a beige color but the outer lining was painted all black, a fancy bar off to the side in black marble with gold trimming, a wall rack behind it filled with liquor. Any drink you could imagine was on those racks, Ciroc of different flavors, Hennessy, Patron, 1800, more wine, Long Island, Skyy Vodkas, Jose Cuervo margaritas, Rum, and many more. A big black leather L shaped couch was in the middle of the den, with a small beige and black coffee table in the center.

A large TV, almost like a projector screen, was on the wall straight ahead, and in the far corner, there was a pool table and a mini kitchen that housed a countertop, a glass rack, and cabinets. The walls had different worldly art on them, the most she could make out was from Africa, and what looked like pieces from India, maybe even Russia?

All in all, this place was screaming Erik everywhere. The gold and black aesthetic was all him and she could tell by the few pieces of clothing that littered here and there, this was his main area. He probably sleeps down here too, she thought.

“You wouldn’t believe this if I told you.”

Cyprine’s head whipped towards the direction of Erik behind the bar, pulling on a fresh T-shirt and tossing his dirty white beater. She blinked a few times to focus.

“Try me.”

His shoulders bunched upward, “I took a bartending course about...three or four months ago.” Erik pulled out a cocktail strainer, a jigger, an ice tong, stainless steel cocktail shakers, and bottle pourers.

“Didn’t feel like paying money for drinks at the bar huh?” Cyprine finally walked over towards him, settling on one of his leather bar stools. She peered over the bar, seeing a sink there with draft taps and an icebox. She was amazed by this man and his place.

“I didn’t feel like paying for drinks that tasted like water instead of liquor what’s the fun in that shit? What the fuck I look like going to some hyped up lounge paying anywhere from 11 to 20 dollars for bar drinks? Then they wanna run you a couple hundred for bottles of champagne that taste like piss.”

“How the fuck you know how piss taste?! Let me find out!” Cyprine barked out a laughter, clutching her chest right above her bouncing breasts. Erik pulled a few ice cubes out of his icebox, quickly chucking them at her while she successfully dodged the first but not the last one.

He was big mad about this for some reason, and that had Cyprine snickering into the palm of her hand. Erik could be so funny even when he wasn’t trying, which was most of the time she got to know him.

“So, what makes you so special huh?” Cyprine rested her chin on the palm of her hand, watching as Erik turned away from her, studying his drink rack.

“Well, let’s think about the 1920s, right? EVERYBODY was drinking. Bootleggers made hella money off of secret parties filled with alcohol. Back then, they partied and it didn’t end in chaos like now; people acting a fool. Nah, the parties we HAD-not talking about white people..” he paused, looking over his shoulder to see if she was paying attention. Cyprine leaned back and looked up to show him she had focus.

“Nah, we had it big. People drank to enjoy themselves, that’s what I wanna do. I wanna drink to enjoy myself and why not make other people enjoy themselves right? Make a banging ass drink and let the festivities began. You agree?”

Cyprine didn’t expect a full blown explanation from Erik with a bit of history added into the mix over his reason for getting his bartender license. However, she thoroughly enjoyed hearing him talk the way he talked, all knowledgeable and excited.

“Wow. You just gave me more hope than I had before E. I like a good drink, so why don’t you surprise me huh?”

That charming smile resurfaced, and from there Erik went to work pulling down bottles she couldn’t quite catch.

“Alexa, play Up by LoveRance.”

The instrumental started out in that melody that had your hips rolling. Cyprine naturally fell into music, she was a dancer so of course, it came naturally to her. The music was a start that had he ready to unwind with him.

“So, we plan on getting drunk?”

“Why you saying WE like I’m making that decision for you lil nigga?”

“Because you’re the one making the special drinks irky. So, should I be worried?”

Erik brought over his bottles, but instead of keeping them in view, he decides to hide them under the bar. Sly ass motherfucker.

“What type of drunk are you? Let me know now before I give you my hook up. C’mon girl I don’t need you throwing up and pissing on yourself.”

Cyprine could slap the black off his skin for playing with her like that.

“FUCK YOU. I’m not a sloppy drunk. I’m very mellow when I drink, depends on how much you give me and I am OUT.”

“I can deal with that.” Replied Erik, eyes never leaving his motions as he mixed. He would use the jigger to pour into his drink mixer, shaking it over his head, dreads swinging to his motions, the ice rattling along the stainless steel of the mixer cup.

“Oh, you don’t need to work in a bar.”

“Why the fuck not? I got skills.” His voice cracked a little in the most serene way, half smiling with those teeth that would make you wet.

“Because you’re a distraction, sir. Your tip bucket would be filled with panties, not money.”

Erik didn't respond, but his eyes glanced sideways, eyebrow raised with a tilt of his head as if he were trying to read beyond her response. With a shrug of his shoulders, he sucked on the tips of his fingers to remove some liquid, finally lifting up a cocktail glass, sliding it towards her.

Cyprine studies the burnt orange liquid, a lemon on the side as a garnish.

She grips the stem of the glass softly, while her other hand graces the top of the sweating glass. She took a whiff of it, so far lemon I.Tshe thought.

Slowly, her bow-shaped lips parted, hanging over the edge of the glass with her eyes closed. The liquid began to drizzle into her warm mouth.

She made an audible whimper in the back of her throat. Damn. Whatever he did it was fucking fantastic. She definitely could distinguish the taste of Hennessy, but what else? It was so well mixed that you got a burst of flavors, and that did nothing but make her taste buds tingle.

A beatific expression overcame her soft features, dreamy eyes landing on Erik.

“What is this? That’s all I want to know.”

“It’s called Between the Sheets.”

She sure as hell felt like she was between the sheets. That and LoveRance in the background talking about beating the pussy up made her feel like she was really between a mattress and a man with a long hard dick.

“Mhmm.” That’s all she could say as she went back to savoring her drink.

“Hennessy V.S, light rum, Grand Mariner, fresh lemon juice.”

Erik watched her tip the last bits into her mouth, licking her lips slowly before flipping her hair over her shoulder, sliding her empty glass towards Erik expectantly.

“More please.”

“So graceful.” He teased with a smile, biting his lip.

“Make it in a bigger cup though that wasn’t enough.” She replies with a raise of her chin.

Erik took a sip of his simple glass of Hennessy Black, pulling the drinks from under the bar to make her another round.

The song changed to XXX by Kendrick Lamar.

“Tell me what you do for a living C.C?”

Cyprine took a black velvet scrunchie out of her Fendi shoulder bag, pulling her curly hair up into a pineapple, the short hairs in the back of her neck and on the sides of her face falling out with a bounce.

“Assistant Curator at the Getty Center.”

“Impressive,” Erik added her garnish for a finishing touch, handing over her glass swiftly.

“I plan on being head Curator. Give me about 3 more months.”

“I don’t doubt it girl, you got potential.”

“How do you know? You hardly know me.”

“I know that any black woman who packages herself as well as you do with an attitude got her shit on lock and ain’t about to stop for nothing or nobody.”

“Yeah, you right about that nigga.”

“Of course I’m right. I shouldn’t have to remind you of that girl.”

Erik gave her a warning look.

“Don’t make me have to remind you again.”

Cyprine bent her head, hugging her arms with a smile gracing her lips.

“Yes, Mr. Stevens.”

Cyprine took a generous sip of her second drink, watching as Erik kneaded his right shoulder, rolling both twice before letting out a soft moan.

“Tense?” She asked out of curiosity.

“Pretty much. My body is sore.”

“Hmm…” Cyprine drummed her fingers on the surface of the bar for a second, before letting out a smooth breath.

“Sit down right here.”

“Why?”

“So I can be of assistance. I have magical fingers I can help you work out those kinks in your shoulders.”

Erik strokes his beard, studying her for a second before walking around to where she sat, making himself comfortable. Cyprine eases off the stool, her blood feeling as if it rushed to her head from just two drinks.

Erik, of course, was physically bigger than her. Even sitting down, C.C had to stand on her tiptoes almost to get a good grip on his shoulders.

Erik threaded a hand through his hair, looking over his shoulder as her hands took their place on his upper back. She pressed the pads of her thumbs into his shoulder blades hard in a circular motion, feeling Erik’s toned back arch.

“Woah.” He chuckled softly.

“Do That again but harder this time.” He instructed, feeling Cyprine’s thumbs stab deeper into his upper back, almost painful but he loved it. “Fuckkk.” He sounded out softly, his head falling forward.

The knots in his muscles seemed to melt away after all that increasing pressure.

He had an alluring expression on his face, hands bracing the bar tightly as she moved one hand to his right shoulder, and another hand to the back of his neck. She used the pads of four of her fingers to rub in a pressured circular motion, faintly hearing the bones of his lower neck crack.

“Jesus Erik that sounded like the body of an old ass man.” She teased.

“If you were working five days a week doing nothing but crouching, kneeling, heavy lifting, and pulling, you would be saying the same shit about your body.”

“I would never let my precious temple get this bad.”

Erik had a calculating look on his face.

“You must have a man to work out the kinks after he folds that body while he fucking you.”

Cyprine tried to compose herself after that nasty comment, her weary gaze aimed at Erik’s back.

“There, all finished.” She stepped away quickly, grabbing her drink to swallow the last bit.

“I’d like to try something new please.”

Erik huffed like an overgrown child.

“That’s it? The middle of my back still hurts C.C.”

He had a pout in his lips and it was the cutest thing she had ever witnessed from him. Nope nope.

“Make me another special mix, and if I’m up to it I’ll finish the job.”

______________________

Erik got to working on another Hennessy mix while Cyprine watched with interest, giggling at him from time to time.

“This one is called Black Velvet.”

Cyprine wasted no time to begin drinking. Velvet on the tongue, warmth in the heart. This drink was seductive and elegant on the palate and it definitely would keep you coming back for more.

“Slow down girl before you catch that heat,” Erik warned her with humor.

“Well, what if I want the heat?” Erik and Cyprine shared a look.

“Calm that kitty down lil nigga. Don’t let me find out you're frisky when you drink.”

She gave a half shrug, inclining her head to the side.

“One thing's for sure I get horny when I drink.” It went quiet then...

Hem hem was the audible sound of Erik clearing his throat as he finished off his third glass of Hennessy Black.

The time wasn’t even a thought and so was the drinks. The sink behind Erik’s bar was filled with orange and lemon peels, wasted ice, and dirty shakers. The duo was nothing but a snickering, goofy, non-comprehensive mess and it was a sight to see.

“Equinox.”

Erik’s T-shirt was discarded now from all the mess he made, the beautiful body that would usually go unnoticed did for Cyprine. She was so tipsy that the sight in front of her didn’t matter.

“Equinocssss.” She sounded out slow and with a slur, her shoulders rolling and her chin elevated with grace. She bounced on the stool, her ass jiggling with every motion as if a man were behind her to tease. She grabbed the glass, bringing it to her bow-shaped lips. A moan escaped her mouth and her hand came crashing with the smooth surface of the bar, slapping it hard.

“What exactly does that mean hmmm???”

“When everything is in balance, that is the equinox.” Erik shoved his hands in his cargo pockets, his eyes so low you would confuse it with sleepwalking. He had a smirk on his face and that tongue kept creeping out of its cavern to lick at his already lubricated lips.

“You should make your own drink, the way you’re advertising this shit. I would buy it for sure.”

C.C took another sip before throwing her hands up, almost knocking the glass over.

“Oops.”

“Why are you single Cyprine?” Erik checked the weight of his bottle of Hennessy black before pouring another glass.

“Cuz guys can’t handle me that’s why. I’m not a bad girl for no reason.”

“So you’re breaking hearts huh? Devil wearing Fendi?”

“I’m not that bad!!! I’ve had my heart broken for the record. But, if I smell bullshit, you might as well turn the other way, and I can smell bullshit on a nigga Okur.”

Erik leans in towards her.

“Besides smelling like a rainforest, do you smell bullshit on me?”

Cyprine leans in towards his neck, taking a long obnoxious sniff causing Erik to snort loudly.

“Nah, you just smell like you.”

“You hella funny when you drink,” Erik replies.

She attempted to drink, but it was gone.

“Well, I need another it seems.” She pouted.

“Something new or another Equinox.”

“Something new!!!” She clapped her hands together happily.

“By the way Erik, if you’re single, why?”

He cocked his head, pausing to gather his thoughts.

“I’ve had plenty of reasons why I’m single.”

“Damn E, why in the fucking world would you be single? It just doesn’t make sense...unless you're a womanizer?” She let out a bitter laugh.

“I want a woman who's my equal, who can take what I’m dishing out.”

Erik handed her a small glass, watching her take a sip, a knowing smile gracing her soft lips.

“Henny and pineapple juice.” He Spoke for her.

“So...when was the last time…”

Cyprine spaces out, her finger dipping into her glass, twirling it.

“The last time I had sex?” Erik finished for her.

“About...4 ½ maybe 5 months ago.”

Cyprine’s throat went sore from swallowing her drink the wrong way.

“No fucking way.”

She didn't want to believe that at all. Erik didn’t seem the type to go that long without some pussy.

“Saving yourself?” She toyed with a lock of hair, her eyes looking as if she were bewildered.

“Uhh...I guess you can say that, but not really, not until marriage or anything, I’m just picky with my women.” He laughed softly, taking a long sip of his drink.

Cyprine figures that maybe there was a girl he admires, and from that, she could discern that she had to have all the qualities he wanted in a woman.

“You like them chocolate, intellectual, freaky..”

“Goofy, sexy, stylish.” Erik finished, counting off on his fingers.

They paused, laughing obnoxiously before stopping suddenly to drink some more.

________________

“Erik it’s almost 10pm.” Cyprine’s eyes scanned the dirty bar, her arm a little wet from spilled drinks. She yawned, her head lolling back and forth like a rag doll. Erik snapped his fingers, causing her to open her eyes quickly.

“You were right when you said you get tired.” He kissed his teeth.

“I can’t help it, I had to work from 9 to 5.”

“Girl I was in the shop longer than that.”

Erik stopped the music from playing, throwing his T-shirt over his shoulder. He walked up to Cyprine, helping her off the stool only for her to arch into him, almost like dead weight.

“Erik c’mon I’m not that fucking heavy.” She teased, laughing as he tried to lift her. Erik was equally drunk but more in control, his muscles failing him as he finally got her to stand on two feet. As if reading each other’s minds, they both began to laugh continuously.

“Stop making me fucking laugh! I’m trying to help you out, lil nigga.”

“Shut yo bitch ass up and throw me over your shoulder!”

Erik grunted, feeling Cyprine wrap her arms around his neck, while he brought his arm down to cup under her ass, pulling her up and over his shoulder. Her ass sat on his forearm like it was her personal seat as Erik walked up the stairs and towards his bedroom.

Finally there on the third level, Erik kicked open his cracked door, flicking on the light, watching as the wide clear space came to life.

“Mmmph.” Cyprine lifted her head, her hair practically all over her head, studying her surroundings with squinted eyes.

“Where are we exactly?”

“My bedroom.”

“Really?! damn I’m too drunk to take this in right now.”

“Good, can’t have your young eyes staring at shit it shouldn’t be.”

Cyprine punched Erik softly in the middle of his back, her muscles not helping her the slightest.

“If I hadn’t said fuck you already, FUCK YOU.” She felt queasy from being thrown over his shoulder like a rag doll.

“Nah, not fuck me Cyprine...”

Erik flopped her down on his bed, the organic cotton melting into her chocolate skin like clouds of milk. She curled up, her dress riding up, exposing her black savage beauty panties in lace. Erik moves her onto the bed further, pulling down her dress before walking over to his wardrobe, grabbing up a fresh white T-shirt.

“I’ll get you some water, here is a T-shirt. I’m not driving you home tonight I’m drunk myself, and you’re definitely not driving girl.”

She wiggled against his bed, her beautiful dreamy eyes staring up into Erik’s like an innocent girl.

“You don’t look drunk though.”

“That’s because I’m solid, takes a lot to bring me down.”

Cyprine made a low rumbling noise behind her throat, sitting up from the mattress with her curls matted.

“You're solid alright.” Erik paused.

“Stop drunk talking and change.”

Without warning she started pulling her dress up, causing Erik to turn away towards the door with an amused smirk.

“No peeking Stevens!”

“I’m not a pervert lil nigga.”

“Finished.”

—————

Cyprine took small sips from the glass of water, snuggling into Erik’s bed with her eyes dropping half way. Erik was dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and a white beater, a large white blanket under his arm, walking towards the bedroom door.

“Hey.”

Erik turned with a searching look.

“Thanks for today big head. I thoroughly enjoyed drinking with you.”

“Back at you lil nigga, get some sleep aight?”

“Wait!”

Erik rolled his eyes, dropping the blanket, turning to her with folded arms.

“Yes?”

“Text her. Tell her she’s on your mind.”

Erik stares her down with an interesting look, grazing his lower lip with his thumb.

“When I wake up, give me a full story, nasty details included.”

She made an incoherent noise, then finally sleep overtook her.

“Goodnight Lil nigga.”

Erik picked up his blanket, turning to walk down to his den. He pulled out his phone, seeing that it was 10:45pm, deciding to take a chance and text Kimora.

Let me guess, you are still up right? I know you all too well.

#amethyst1993 ErikStevens EmberFiction

198 notes · View notes

selenecrawford · 6 years

Text

Selene Crawford: The Mission, The Clan , The Judgment

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping situations, guns, Cursing (yup is still there)

The soft notes of the piano could be heard at the mansion. Luxury, pure tones of pearl, gold and black where everywhere. On the main bath of suite Selene was at the bath tub being cleaned up by the maids. In order to prevent her from escaping Tobias kept her drugged. He didn't want her precious flower to whither before the main event. Selene was being treated as a queen even though she will be judged as a traitor. Tobias, still thought he could change her mind. Men were blindfolded in to prevent them see her naked body.

Once dry she was pampered, and dress with exquisite care, like a princess. Selene try not to cry since she knew this was only a preparation for what she will have to face. The law inside the clan was absolute. Still Tobias wanted to buy her with luxury and pampering. Her mind then went to Masamune. His smile, his mischievous smile and his passionate look when they made love. Desperate she tried to think in an escape, but her main concern being unable to move was her main worry.

(Calm down, I need to think. There is got to be a way, but which?)

“I bet you are thinking in a way to leave. See, how perfect I am for you? Why can't you see that?” Tobias approached her silently and surprised her with a soft whisper to her ear.

Selene shudder internally, the sound of a drop began to be heard on her memory. A distant image became clearer are Tobias kept talking. With a deep sigh, Selene began meditating ignoring the whispers. All she wanted to see was Masamune, with this she blocked Tobias alluring words turning into just gibberish. If Ian wanted her on top shape she will have to start preparing. There was no time to loose. Tobias, frown after saw Selene's deep breath, the treatment was not working. Fine, he did all he needed to do. Applying the antidote, he left leaving Selene on her own.

“So be it love. Is your choice. Bring her in 5 hours to the chamber.”

“Yes, Sir.” said one of the guard at the entrance of the room.

Tobias walked punched one of the marble walls. Cursing Selene's stubbornness he went to prepare for the judgment.

“If you won't be mine then you will pay for your treason with your life.”

At Mai's warehouse, the preparations for the invasion of the clan's lair were advanced. The guys will be diving in two main groups. Sasuke, Mitsurani, Lancelot, Mai, Yuki and Shingen will stay at the base. Shingen, Mitsurani and Yuki as back up in case they need to get them out if they can't. The rest as technical, and surveillance support.

The main group was compose of Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, Kenshin, Ieyasu and Masamune who refused to stay.

“You can't go Masamune, you might risk a fracture or even death. You are not in conditions to go into a fight. Are you out of your fucking mind? Nobunaga aren't you going to tell him something?” Ieyasu was at wits end trying to prevent Masamune from going.

“I will do the same if I were him.” was the only thing Nobunaga could say while discretely looking at Mai.

“So he wants to go and kill himself OK, no problem, now why the fuck am I have to go? Can you answer me that?” Although pissed off Ieyasu was looking more calm than agitated.

“We need all the man power we can. Also you are a good fighter. “Yasu”.” Hideyoshi took several assault rifles and bags.

“Don't call me that.” sneer Ieyasu.

Masamune stood next to Ieyasu. “I'm not a man of going around pleading, but Selene is precious to me. Your help getting her back safe will mean a lot to me, and her. You need to meet her.” putting his hands on his pockets Masamune gave Ieyasu a sad smile.

“Too bad I met her before you. And you don't need to convince me. I'm going, she deserves to be happy. Just know that if you make her cry even once I'm making you pay for it.” Ieyasu smirk at the face of surprise of Masamune when he heard the information. Taking that as his sign Ieyasu took his equipment and left for the car.

“Where is the Snake?” Kincaid was looking for Mitsuhide.

“He went ahead, he is securing the perimeter and our contact in and out.” said Mai before Nobunaga could open his mouth.

“Mitsuhide can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear my little mouse. There is not movement at the castle yet. I'm already in position.” his voice have a tone of diversion and pleasure.

Everyone was tense and getting ready. Ieyasu secured Masamune's chest with a special bandage that will protect him for getting hard hits. The bandage was cool so will maintain part of the swelling down. Popping pain killers like candy Masamune took a couple and went to put his own equipment on one of the 3 black RTR's assigned. Nobunaga/Hideyoshi , Kenshin, Ieyasu and him on the third one. Kenshin didn't mind alone since he thought having a partner was more a hindrance. Once everyone was ready they left one by one. The road to the castle was a bit long but they managed to get a stop to eat something light before arriving to the spot Mitsuhide was stationed.

The castle was at the top of the cliff with a dignified view of the ocean.

“OK, who are these people first of all? And why they have a castle on a cliff erosion anyone?” Ieyasu's statement might be cliche, but so it was the location of the castle.

“What's the status Mitsuhide?” it was Nobunaga's turn to ask.

“The bells sounded 3 times one hour later 2 times and a couple of minutes ago 1 time. So far no more sounds or movement after that.

“The judgment that asshole is going to judge her.” Lancelot's emotive statement puzzle everyone. It was the first time his tone was out of the educated and polished manner was out of place.

“What does that mean?” Masamume was now concerned.

“ According to out research, the clan have a way to deal with those who do not follow the rules. They make a trial and force the partners to fight to death and if the traitor lives is executed.”

“Partners?”

“ Yes Dragon. According to tradition, the new generation is chosen when they are kids. They train together and when the time comes they marry and take the rains of the clan and make the next generation. If one dies before having children another pair of children is choose. When Selene refused the laws of the clan this got her branded as a traitor. But Ian pretended to protect her.” indicated Lancelot.

“And you deemed necessary to share this information now because?” it was Mitsuhide's time to be inquisitive. “It's interesting how much you know about the clan for people who were kept in the dark.”

“No need for your venom Snake. We didn't say anything for security measures. Both me and Kincaid are part of the clan. We thought to let the tradition die. Many of the methods to get the kids were cruel and aberrant.”

“What methods?, what are you talking about Lancelot?” Nobunaga didn't like the sound of that.

“What you are imagine Devil, in order to recruit our new recruits they must be break and their soul pulverized. Their soul must be tarnished, with blood, darkness and hate.” Corrupting them on a early age is part of the process.” continue Lancelot explaining.

“Wait, you don't mean...” Ieyasu tried to speak but his voice trailed off.

Yes, Dr. Tokugawa, Selene's parents didn't die on a car accident. We killed them in order to recruit Selene.”

The sound of the sea at the distance was the only thing breaking the deafening silence thru the communications channel.

Selene was escorted to the main inside patio of the castle. The sound of the agitated was around. The smell of salt, old stone and lime was strong. This help Selene to clear completely her mind. As a last request from Tobias she had a light meal. Wearing a pair of hand cuffs she walked slowly, without haste. This is her last minutes alive, she was on her way to be judge. Wearing skinny black jeans with black leather corset and a black shirt under. Complementing the outfit a military jacket with crossing zipper. Her hair was done on a french braid with a sultry make up and red cherry lips. The look made her a totally different person, someone she refused to be ever since she was trained for it. The walk ended once they arrived once they got into the inside Patio. A circle of wood was around the place. Looking around the smell of gasoline hit her like a slap on the face. Torch were around with potent light from the ceiling. Outside the circle were many people clothed on ninjitsu uniforms and face covered.

Outside of the circle on a podium was Ian wearing a dark robe. Inside the circle Tobias was armed and waiting for her. Taking a deep unperceptive breath Selene entered the circle. The place was spacious enough for them to fight. Little by little Selene connected some of the pieces. Ian began to speak.

“We are gathered here to pass judgment and uphold our traditions and values.”

“What values? Killing, for money? Are you fucking kidding me?” Selene dint let Ian continue. She need to stall the process until they arrive.

“You are so easy to read love, stalling this won't help. You made a choice.” No I didn't, I never asked for it. And I'm' not your love.” that last sentence was made into a sneer full hate.

“You never respected our traditions, you stepped on them. We gave you food, a roof, money.”

“Really? A conditionally love, as long as I learn to kill, deceive and steal. What kind of life is that for a child? You never cared for me. You only wanted me to lead the clan with Tobias. How could you kill your wife, his mother? I know your secret Ian.”

“And who you think killed your parents Selene?” asked Tobias walking towards her to take her handcuffs off.

Selene tried to talk but no sound went out of her mouth. “What?” was the breathless question that she could articulate. Walking around her Tobias smile sweetly while circling her life a shark at the ocean.

“My...my parents died in an accident.” said Selene trying to research her mind for her details of that fateful night.

“You see you are wrong, mi gatita(my kitten), on that night, we choose you, I, no the clan choose you as my bride.” Tobias stood in front of her.

“We were six and yet I fell in love with you that day at the park. I remember telling dad I wanted you. So, we followed you and I decided to get you. See, you might had block some parts of that night, but I stood in the middle of the road and your father loose control.” Once you crashed I just gave the killing blow and killed them with a knife while they were unconscious. They bleed to death. My first trophies.” Tobias stopped to take a good look at Selene.

Selene couldn't believed her ears, but one part of her knew the truth. In her mind the fog that covered the events of that night began to lift. She remembered in slow motion how they went out of the park and suddenly on part of road a little kid run in causing them to crash. After that she lost consciousness. When she woke up she was an orphan absorbed by the system.

“No, its not true you didn't, THAT'S LIE!!!!!!” she managed to shout before covering her ears and fell to her knees.

“Oh no, you are not getting out of this easily. Yes, I killed your parents, for you. You are mine and only mine. After all the trouble I went to get you and this is how you repay me, repay us.” Tobias took her by the hair and started drag her in front of his father.

“Selene Crawford, by the law of the Clan and committing the sacred sin of betrayal, your only absolution is to die. Torch it.”

The bystanders took the torch and started burning the circle of wood around them. Once the circle was completely ignited, Tobias lifted and throw her to the other side of the circle. Trembling in shock, Selene looked at Tobias taking of his trench coat. After all of these years the man she thought she knew was never there. Instead, before was Ankou the angel of death.

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#ikesen #ikesen masamune #fanfic

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