hell is empty; evil is here.

☠ — sheep’s clothing

The soft, warm air around them had turned stale and cold. Still, even after she accepted her secret was out, everything was exposed, she had a hard time processing this. There was no going back from this. There was no way to cover it up again. From here on out, things would be different - even so much to say that they would be gone. “I’m telling you the truth.” Her voice cracks. It’s all she can say, no matter how useless. Beth doubts there is anything she could tell him that would change his newly shaped opinion of her, but the fact that he admits he wants to instills her with some hope.

Just wishful thinking, she already knows it. Even before he tells her to leave, and that’s an offer she should take. She should grab her clothes and leave as quickly as she can. All the lies, all the facades, everything was to keep out of hell, and she’s been sharing the bed of someone who can send her back. Now that he knows, it’s a risk. But part of her forces herself to believe he wouldn’t do that. That’s why he’s letting her go. “Adriel–“ Beth takes a second to straighten her voice before continuing, “What would I have to gain? After all these months? If I’m truly lying to you about how I feel, why would I go along with it for so long?”

He hates himself for even considering it. With the bottle of holy water still in hand, his eyes flicker over to it before landing back on her. Watching her wince and steam in pain again... Adriel couldn’t do it. And he hates himself for that even more. But he always has, so it isn’t too much of a difference now of all cases. He’d never been strong enough to fight the first monster out of him, and now he can’t fight off the one standing in front of him. Who he’s kissed time and time again. It’s like their species is out to butcher him in every possible way -- but even as his pulse picks up, he doesn’t move.

Doesn’t mean he can’t raise his voice, since apparently nothing else will do. “I believe you, Beth! But I was just as fucked up off you --” It doesn’t matter whose gaining what. He’s a failure if he doesn’t kill her now, but that’s already behind them. And he almost apologizes, but it goes down like a shot of poison. Swallowed and forgotten to the best of his ability. “You have to go. Not gonna say it a third time.” But he would, and maybe she knows it. If he has to use force, so be it... because it isn’t about restraining himself from exorcising her. It’s about restraining himself from forgiving her.

☠ — sheep’s clothing

Her desire to reach out and touch him, to take his hands in hers, or rest her palms on his jawbones, it comes too easily. She has to force it down. Even if the past fifteen minutes has changed everything, and will continue to change everything, she can’t just turn it off. She wishes she could - but that would be too damn easy. If she could do something like that, she would have left a long time ago. Left so that Adriel would never have to learn just who he’s been spending all of his time with. What lied underneath.

His words make her feel sick the most, but she doesn’t have trouble finding her own. “No, I don’t know that. You’re worth more than you think.” Her voice loses the sad edge just for a moment, because she’s serious. Beth’s been aware of his thoughts about himself, even more so of the severity when she found him with bleeding palms and distant eyes. Taking care of him, healing rather than killing, it had been strange how easily that came. But not so much when it was only toward him. “And you’re worth more to me than anything.” Was that much evident with how much of a risk it was to stay with him? She hoped so.

Worth more than you think. How he’s supposed to process that, Adriel has no idea. It’s supposed to be a good thing -- and for a solid few moments, it is. It’s everything. It’s more than he’s ever been told. Essentially, her kind words are more generous than his parents ever cared to be, but that’s what she’s meant to do. Until they’re ready to strike, they’re supposed to wear faces like weapons and use them to their will. And he’s an idiot for believing her for a fraction of a second, even if it settles his stomach some.

It’s not about only being worth something to Beth -- ‘cause she’s enough. Always has been more than enough. But the only one who could ever find any faith in him is a demon, and that takes a heavy toll. “Wish I didn’t want to believe you so bad. But here I am.” They’ll throw him in the nuthouse again for this one -- or they sure as hell should, even though he knows it’d make a mess of him. But his blood’s still boiling, surging up and it’s hard to fight it. “And it’s you or me.” So he chooses her. “Get out of here.”

☠ — sheep’s clothing

The way he looked at her changed in a flash. Everything, gone in a blink of an eye, and she was still trying to catch up. Her worried fingers grasped and ran over this vessel’s skin, or her hair. Tugged on her clothes. It all felt like home. “It was just an excuse.” She whispers, admitting that there was actually very little to be gained by purposefully cozening up a close relationship with a hunter. Of course there was. It was just to ease her mind.

It was always an excuse, that much was true. A lie she told herself to make the situation seem less ridiculous. To make herself feel better for what she was doing and how she was feeling. How he made her feel, when it was the last thing he should have been doing to her. “I wasn’t–– I wasn’t pulling strings. I was always lying to myself! By the time I found out you do what you do it was too late.”

Just an excuse. So it’s a confession that she’s aware of what her nature entails, as well as how she’s sent it away in the name of something else. Something he hoped was stronger -- though it all seems too far away now. ‘Hope’ is a pipe dream and a sick joke. As a matter of fact, Adriel has a swallow a dry breath of a laugh and it tastes like blood in his mouth.

Even though he wants to believe what Beth is saying, there’s no way he can. Even if he took her word for it, he could never get the memories away from what she is. Because he’s not in love with the girl this body belongs to - and he doesn’t think he could ever be, if something from hell wasn’t inside it. And that all comes down to how poisonous it’s become, and his pulse picks up the pace. “And it didn’t matter? Not like I was ever worth that much and you know it.” It’s the final truth. One that she has to already know. His lack of self-worth was already demonstrated once to her, and now it was out on the open.

☠ — sheep’s clothing

Truth be told, she didn’t know what she was thinking. Not long after she began to form feelings for him, the secret was out. All that came of it was a grade A excuse to tell herself - that she was keeping her enemies closer. That if he went to make some sort of a move, she’d know about it. She would be able to use it, and him, to her advantage. Only downside was that she was already in way too deep to actually mean it. Telling him that, it seemed like a poor decision. Why give him more reasons to hate her?

Keeping it to herself, was that just continuing to lie to him? A different kind of a shaky breath escaped her lungs, a stark contrast to the one before. She was already over the edge, wasn’t she? Taking the plunge, being truly honest, that was an unfamiliar thought. But maybe her best option. “Told myself I was taking advantage of the circumstances.” Beth admitted, finding her eyes downcast moments later. Fingers pushed messy blonde curls away from the side of her face, telling herself that if he could look at her, she could do the same.

“But truth was that I had feelings for you.” They’ve never been a confession kind of couple. “Feelings I didn’t want to throw away.”

Hearing the initial confession makes his insides twist. As opposed to this sorry excuse for an explanation, all Adriel has is a helpless response to getting along with someone... well, better than he has in a long time. And trusting them, mistaken in every single way. She put a stop to so much for him. Looked after him in one way or another, and... made him smile. Better yet, Beth made him mean it. But he can’t say that now, can he?

“It’s not like I’m in on some system. Not like I can help you or get you good shit.” That much is true -- the best he can get the blonde is a trip downstairs, which he imagines she’s been avoiding above all else. “When’d you decide you were lying to yourself, and it wasn’t you just pulling fuckin’ strings?”

☠ — sheep’s clothing

Could she even begin to make him understand? Just like the words out of his mouth cemented, he took things like her back to Hell. Sent them away from everyone top side like some kind of community service. Beth never knew why he did it. Not like she could ask - but she got the feeling it was more of a have to. Would he have to do the same to her, now? The thought makes her swallow the lump in her throat, nervous hands clasping at each other. “I didn’t even know when we first got together!”

That, he was a witness to. She had no idea what he did when they first met. Not when they started spending all their time together, not when they started messing around. That revelation came after - he knew that. It was discovered right in front of him. “I wasn’t trying to get you to buy anything! This wasn’t some plan!“ Maybe that wasn’t completely true. It wasn’t an active decision on her part, not something that was a focus, but she did need him to believe that she was human, and only human.

He continues to focus on who her vessel is, and she runs her suddenly cold hands over her face. “She wanted to be.” The explanation is quick, not caring about the girl she looks like. “I found her on some roof. Ready to jump.”

It’s easier to keep his attention on what makes him angry than the part that could get him killed, or worse. Taken over for a second time by something she knows... the options really don’t come with a limit - not when hell is involved. Not when he’s seen all they can do and take pleasure from -- when he’s heard them from the inside. “And you thought it’d go alright if you stuck around?” It just makes her a liar, or an idiot. And he’s never taken her for the latter.

She keeps saying it: it’s not a scam. She hasn’t tricked him. It’d be different if he was a hunter in the wake of a death in the family. If someone had been drained by one of the bloodsuckers, he’d have less of a bias. He’d think less about some girl inside the blonde he’s come to -- god, fuck forsake him -- fall in love with, and more about who could actually mean what they were saying. “Why’d you stay with me if you figured it out? Why’re you still here when you know you could’ve gotten killed?”

Hearing that her vessel was suicidal, and about to take her own life is reassuring to some degree. But what if it’s just another lie? Like everything else?

☠ — sheep’s clothing

Her skin, minutes ago comfortably tinged with a warmth that came from pumping blood just under the surface, now felt hot and unbearable. It wanted to crawl off her bones. She wanted to disappear, and Beth remembered that she had that ability. She could flee here and now, leaving a girl in her wake, one that would remember nothing of this. But she didn’t take it. Not so easily. She didn’t want to disappear as much as she thought.

Her desire to somehow fix this, it preservered. Eyes that had already flickered back to the normal clear blue, peered down to the puddle between them. His voice made her knees weak, and no matter how hard it was to pull her gaze back up to his face, one that expressed so much hatred so suddenly, a piece of her felt that not all was lost. Maybe she was a bigger idiot that she thought. “No— look, it wasn’t all a lie!” She insists, but the words sound even worse coming from her mouth.

Wasn’t all a lie. That had to make him feel better. He’s so angry and she can’t blame anyone but herself. There were no excuses to be had, nothing she could ignore. This wasn’t something that would just go away. She couldn’t tell herself to deal with it later. She can’t manage to answer his question, either. “It wasn’t.” Repeating it doesn’t make it any better. “What’s been going on the past few months, it hasn’t been some scheme, okay? I’ve meant everything I’ve said to you.”

He wants to tell her why he knows just how much this sounds like more than lies. “So you just fuckin’ happened to hook up with somebody who usually sends your sort back where they belong. That’s got nothing to do with it?” How can he believe that, when someone stole his body like a suit and lied with it? Killed with it and made him watch?

If the girl ‘Beth’ -- (if that is her real name) is using, too, is still awake... what choices has she not gotten? What’s been stolen by her, and what part has he had in it? Even the thought of touching or kissing her again, which was all he wanted a few minutes ago, is nauseating. Worse. Because then he’s an accomplice to a crime committed against him, just the same. Calming down and trusting her isn’t an option. “You know I’d wanna buy it. You knew I’d believe you cause I didn’t have shit else to believe in!”

It’s just too bad he can’t act like his part was a lie. Like he’d somehow been in control, in the meantime... but there’s just no way. “So you’re just hiding? Is she dead?”

☠ — sheep’s clothing

This was seven months in the making. A countless number of run ins turned into plans and later, into kisses. Into more. One sip of holy water, and it all crumbled in her hands. She should have known better, she thinks, scolding herself. He was a hunter, she knew that. Should have know better. A heartbeat that shouldn’t start to pick up out of nervousness and devastation does anyway, and she feels her lungs tighten when he jumps up on his feet.

Toward the bottle. Away from her, and with that look on his face. It shatters her heart and leaves her lips agape, scrambling for words to say. He beats her to it, and the soft, loving atmosphere screeches to a halt. It becomes something toxic. Bloody, and raw.

“Adriel–“ She begins, but he repeats himself and her breath catches in her throat. It’s just in her nature to remain composed, no matter the wild feelings tumbling in the pit of her stomach. She doesn’t allow her hands to tremble, doesn’t allow her fear of losing him to show. But knowing their relationship, she has no doubt he can see it anyway.

It’s hard to find the courage to get to her feet, still dressed in nothing but his own shirt, but she does it, avoiding the puddle of holy water. “It’s not like that, alright? I swear to you.” Her voice is panicked as she wonders, could he even begin to believe her? She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. How could he?

His name sounds like poison coming from her mouth. A lie, among many others - and he doesn’t know how to put them all together. The natural pull that drags them together so often is more than magnetic, but now it’s a curse. His urge to get closer only builds up the knots in his gut, and there’s nothing that can change his mind. (Well, nothing but the thoughts already there.)

Disdain takes shape in his brows when they knit together, trying to understand and grasp all the signs he missed. Even though Adriel wants to blame her, it’s a defense mechanism to regulate and keep consistent. All he can do is think about his faults. What he’s done wrong and what he could’ve done to make this turn out differently. How he could be less attached, and face this with strength instead of weakness. But all he is now is weak. And she must see it.

“Adriel what? The hell are you gonna tell me, another lie?” She has to know. Has she been diverting his attention the entirety of this time? “What’s it like, Beth? Whose face are you wearing? Who’d I just fuck?” Only it’s worse. Because he knows what it is to have no say. And now, that’s happening to some girl with no control.

☠ — sheep’s clothing

It’s wrong to feel so comfortable in this here and now. Not when at any given moment, it can all disappear. She can be taken away, he can be taken away - an endless amount of variables come into play and it always leaves her head reeling. But not as much as his kisses feel against her neck, or the way his palms lay soft against a body that isn’t truly hers.

Only now, she’s come to think of it as hers. Every moment they’ve shared, everything they’ve experienced, it’s hers. It’s theirs. The rules of Hell be damned, because she no longer feels that way. She’ll do what she has to do, but not without this. “Dunno, maybe.” She repeats with the same amount of smug that he exudes. “Only if you make me.”

Too easy to flirt. Too easy to look at him and know that she’s in over her head, but she doesn’t care. The cap of her water bottle turns off easily, and she takes a sip to wet her mouth that felt dry from endless kisses.

It’s too late when the water burns her mouth. Sears. A pain she hasn’t felt in months, and it’s so severe that the bottle slips from her hands and drops to the floor below, spilling out. Her eyes turn that charcoal black as she sputters and coughs.

And her heart drops when she realizes this is all over.

Her mimicry is smooth and soft, quiet in the place he calls home for now. Someone told him a while ago that hunters can never stay in one place for too long, and it didn’t take long to figure out why. But this is his place, and with so many evils to knock out in Sin City, he doesn’t want to give it up. Doesn’t want to give her up.

Content to tease right back, Adriel wastes little time in quirking a brow. “Yeah, like I fuckin’ wouldn’t.” They’ve a terrible habit, or maybe a gamble between the two of them... and though he doesn’t always confess, it doesn’t take much for him to kiss the sense right out of him (if there was anything to begin with).

But she takes a drink of something he belatedly recognizes as a weapon for later on - a precautionary measure that doesn’t belong in her hands, and almost feels worried until it clicks. His insides turn to rot. His mouth tastes like ash. He can feel the blood on his hands again, see it clearly underneath muscles he couldn’t control.

And even bare-skinned, he jolts to his feet and darts for the bottle before it all spills out.

But it’s useless. Dilating eyes aside, he still sees Beth. (But that’s what they want you to see. That’s why they used your body.) And everything sinks. “You’re a fucking demon?” Of course she is. Of course it’d follow him. Of course he would end up here. Vulnerable. Dead meat, if he doesn’t condemn her to it first. “Y--you’re a fucking demon. And you knew. What the fuck else do you know, huh?” But his voice cracks, and it’s hard to sound like the hunter he’s spent almost all his time in Vegas training to be.

☠ — sheep’s clothing

A shaky breath escaped her lungs as she rose from the couch they spent the last hour (or was it two?) on, ignoring the rest of the world. It was so easy, too easy, to put everything behind her. Lock it up and burn away the key. She was no demon with him - he was no hunter with her. And it didn’t matter that he didn’t know. (Though that in itself was awfully demon of her).

Her skin felt warm and smelled of him, and all she could do to show her appreciation of that was to offer him a wide smile, and press another kiss to his lips. Her muscles still seemed to tremor, but she didn’t dare let that show. He wouldn’t let her hear the end of it, so all she did was pluck his shirt off the arm of the couch to pull it over her head. Feeling a bit parched, she leaned back away from him and made her way to the kitchenette in his apartment. It seemed that lately, she was spending more time here than her own home.

That was fine. Grabbing the first water bottle she saw out of his fridge, she soon returned to Adriel’s side, plopping back down next to him. “You planning on round two?” Just some familiar teasing, though it certainly did have aspects of seriousness.

The trouble he has with such a hungry heart and clotted conscience is never-ending. What, it’s been months now-- that he’s gotten used to the long nights and blood on his blades, and all the while a little blonde’s been smothered in playful kisses and more happiness than Adriel knows what to do with. It’s too late now. He can’t look at her without his stomach doing somersaults.

So he shifts comfortably and without fear of the creature who took him for the voyage of a lifetime. Lets her use his home as she will, and kisses her until they’re both breathless, the sheet over each couch cushion smooth against her flesh and his balmy hands. But the rest is short, and he’s in for a downward spiral (though he can’t be sure if this one’s any better or much worse than the last several).

When she’s beside him once more, he sits upright, in no more than boxers and the smug look on his face. “Dunno, maybe. You gonna beg like you were a second ago?”

arabellecrane-archive

before i was married, i worked hard and played hard. i started acting when i was six. by fourteen or fifteen i was getting jobs on my own. and that opened me to the experiences that come with an adult lifestyle. it’s part of being a young actor. the wilder the drama in my life, the deeper i can get on screen – that was kind of the philosophy i had at the time. now, i’m selective about what i do. so much so that, when i read a script and think i can do it, i have to ask myself, why do i want to do it? i look around at my wife and kids think about it carefully first. it gives you real perspective.

jamsoftheday

Visit Original Link

I’m not magnetic or mythical, I’m suburban and typical, But I got it, I got it I’m overrun with it all.

#**

She isn’t able to keep herself from giving him a little grin, her gaze going back and forth between the TV screen and Adriel. “He’s so sure his little mini me isn’t actually his. Look at that confidence.” The man in question is sure putting on a show, but so is just about everyone else involved.

"I haven’t actually thought about it… but I think I could do it."

"No kidding. You think so?" In a way, it takes him back to when lying was mandatory. He was just fortunate they didn't have a better system. "I dunno. Maybe. Maybe you're lying right now."

"Are you a frequent bikini runway model connoisseur?" She would be surprised if anyone wasn’t. Beth might not have actually seen one of those fashion shows or modeling competitions, but something she has seen is the Maury show. A laugh bubbles from her throat at the choice of television, and she hums for a few seconds before answering him. "Oh definitely. Look at that baby. Spitting image."

"Don't know what I'd be if I wasn't." Their sarcasm so quickly escalates, but he's used to it. By now, it's no less than a frequent pleasure. "Big forehead and all. Can't believe they're even asking."

"You ever wonder if you could pass a lie detector test?"

"No question." She nods, pulling her legs up under her, unconsciously leaning toward Adriel once she moves into the position. Spending time with him has become hard to explain - so she just doesn’t think about it. "Good luck, cowboy! I’m too powerful. Plus, I can tell you’re holding in more laughter."

"Least you've got your head straight for one thing." Speedos are a real trip to imagine, so he tries to stray from it, kicking one leg up to rest both on the coffee table before reaching for the remote. "Only powerful one here's Maury. Hope you're ready to figure out who's really holding stuff in." A loud 'not the father' is the abrupt start to the end of a commercial. Perfect. "Think he's lying?"

"Oh of course. I wouldn’t have missed that for the world. The bikini competition was especially good. I saw you took my blue bikini advice." She grins, before heading over to his sofa and plopping down, making herself comfortable. "No no, that vote was rigged. I was captain of the footbawl team, after all.”

"You a sucker for runway models?" It takes a moment to process before he grasps the cup, emanating heat no longer protected by a cover and hotter against his palm. Only when he's seated beside her, cup on a small table does Adriel lean back, shaking his head. "So fucked up. Making me cry baskets when I could be shooting hoops. Talk about a corrupt ruler. I'm gonna get your ass impeached."

"Don’t I know it. Show off." She teases again, taking a long sip from her drink that runs hot down her throat, warming up her vessel. Beth eyes him as he places the cardboard on top of her head, a sly smile spreading across her lips. "Story of my life. At least I have a crown now. I was never prom queen, just editor of the high school tearbook." She challenges, after putting emphasis on ‘tear’.

"Bet you tuned in to my special on TLC. 60 minutes of me. Just me. Wanting world peace. Think I sold it better than Sandra Bullock." Disbelief colors the laugh that leaves his mouth, reluctant and impossible to stifle. "You're so fuckin' dumb. They didn't vote for you 'cause of all your slogans, that's why."