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#lys' whole look is kind of.. they look strong n dangerous but in a stiff and controlled way
goldpilot22 · 4 years
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oh also some mspaint doodles of some ocs. that's specifically tma au sterling, but the others could be that or canon, since i haven't come up with au designs for them yet.
#psii.txt#my art#my ocs#sterling#lyric#lysander#lysterling tma au#you can tell it's tma au sterling bc the going feral thing#lysander's hair is more of a whitish/ash blond but mspaint didn't have a close enough color so i just made the yellow lighter#the yellow blond color rly clashes with his armor lmao#ok to rb#also im Considering changing lysander's hairstyle but idk what to#they wouldn't look right with short hair but they don't like just long hair#and an undercut type thing might be too similar to sterling's hairstyle#or maybe not actually#lys' whole look is kind of.. they look strong n dangerous but in a stiff and controlled way#but she actually is not that stiff and controlled she tends to let her emotions get the best of her esp when stuff gets happening#and underneath hes rly actually Soft Tm#yknow that one drawing ive done of lys and sterling just cuddling? yknow how in the tma au they're holding hands at every opportunity? yeah#it takes both of them a while to get comfortable with showing [and receiving] love and kindness but when they do they Really do#their story is about getting better. about learning to forgive yourself for things out of your control#ok im rambling now but. i like writing characters who Get Better. who've been hurt and had bad things happen to them and had to Do bad#things but then Good things start happening and they find a life they can love and people who love them#i just. cries. i fucking love my ocs ok i think stories where Things Get Better are very important#maybe the point of a lot of my writings is just. hold on. things will be ok someday. it will get better.#something im not always sure i can believe. but maybe thats why i write it#fuck i should post the rest of what ive written for the au
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kpop-dungeon-dark · 3 years
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The Experiment. (Dom!Sehun x You)
•TRIGGER WARNING•
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Warning(s): Con-Noncon (you consent to the act for the sake of play), dacryphilia, choking, anal, hair pulling, bondage, fear kink, gagging, slapping, pretend hate sex, puppy kink, orgasm denial, degradation and humiliation. Browse at your own risk.
Y/n gulped as she walked hand-in-hand with her older, much bigger boyfriend and dom, Sehun. A couple of 7 months now, they had soon realised after a few weeks of going out that both of them liked things on the… rougher side.
Today, they were going to try… something, after very careful planning and discussion.
Sehun knew he had to be the responsible one in the relationship always. And so during experiments as well as 'serious' things he didn't play around or let Y/n shy away, sitting her down and planning everything out.
He didn't ever want to hurt her. Not even accidentally.
The couple came to a halt when they reached the trailer placed in the middle of the jungle, Sehun turning to the girl and pushing her closer by the back of her neck before touching his lips to her forehead.
"I love you."
"I love you too… sir." A timid whisper followed the manly voice, her legs in a complete contrast to her scared voice, thighs squeezing against one another to ease the tension between them.
Oh. Her panties were already soaked.
"You know your safe words, pup." The key turned in the lock and Sehun was in character by the time the door to the trailer slowly opened inwards, his grip hardening on the back of her neck as he roughly hauled her in, stepping inside before hitting the lights as she started to whine and struggle.
"Get in here you little whore!" He was amazed by how fast her tears busted out, as if on cue. "Pathetic! Thinking you can fight against your owner! What a bad dog!" Y/n loved the insults as well as the rough grip he had on her hair, moving her before going to close the door. "You, little pup, need lots of training-!"
The man's words were cut short when she grabbed a vase that had been put intentionally there before hitting his arm hard enough with it that his grip on her loosened, aiding the girl in slipping away through the still ajar door.
"I WILL NEVER SLEEP WITH A SICK AND DIRTY MAN LIKE YOU!" The girl shrieked, her bad acting looking like one out of those porn videos as she rushed away from him, Sehun following soon after grunting and cussing. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"
They knew nobody would come as no one could hear them. This was in the middle of nowhere. They knew it. They had planned it. For weeks.
But something about blindly running in the dark followed by a man so strong and of Sehun's kind, made adrenaline rush through Y/n's veins, her core just getting needier and needier. It was a chilly night. But the fire glowing hotter and hotter deep within her ovaries was providing her enough warm to keep running as tears blurred her vision.
This felt so real. So dangerous. So vicious. Cruel. Terrifying, even.
And she loved it.
The thoughts of what was going to follow this made her knees weak, causing them to buckle up as she went tumbling down against the dead leaves, making her groan as she landed on her chest, wanting to be pounded from behind right there.
"Oh no! Oh no!" She cried harder, sounding more aroused with each word, trying to 'weakly' crawl away as Sehun approached her from behind, clicking his tongue which made her struggle harder. "OH NO SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!"
"Absolutely pathetic" clicking his tongue, the man effortlessly grabbed her ankle, dragging her against the leaves as she squawked and drooled humiliatingly, trying to 'break free' from her 'captor' as he dragged her back to the trailer. "You could have at least tried to run away, tsk. But you're really eager, huh?" The man didn't know if he was in character or speaking in general.
Because his slut of a cumsock was always ready to be fucked by him.
In the most vile of ways.
"OH NO! LEAVE ME! LEAVE ME YOU VILE DIRTY MAN!" Her heart was thumping in her ears as she struggled to act, going a little wordless from the excitement of what was to come, almost stopping completely when he threw her over his shoulder and entered the trailer before locking it shut and walking to the bed, throwing her on it. "OH GOD! OH PLEASE NO!"
"Hold still!" Slapping one of her breasts harshly, Sehun felt himself slipping deeper into his dominant headspace, in which he wasn't so tolerable to any sort of fussing, tearing her skimpy little outfit off. "Sure you want me to let you go huh slut?" Now hitting her cheek, the male said in a stern voice.
"Because from the hooker shit you wear it appears you want anything with a cock real or fake to fuck all of your pathetic little nasty holes" when she started to cry harder and thrash around, the man grunted and pulled-tore her panties off, taking a quick sniff before pushing them in her mouth, the girl's sensitive tongue picking up the salty taste almost instantly.
"Disgusting little whore lying to my face!" Grabbing a handful of hair from the back of her head, the man pulled her head back to have her look up at him before he slapped her again. "When you are practically dripping! Such a nasty little dog I have here!" Another slap on the same cheek before he let go of her hair and slapped her other cheek with his now free hand, pinching and pulling at her now reddening, tear stained cheeks.
Y/n's struggling died down a bit as her pussy pulsated harder, ovaries feeling like they were flipping in satisfaction from the cruel slaps, pupils dilating.
Sehun chuckled as his thumb grazed over her wet lips, own tongue running over his as he stepped on her feet to restrict movement. He loved to make a mess of that pretty face, inserting his thumbs in either sides of her mouth now before pulling at them, index fingers pushing her top lip out of the way to humiliatingly reveal her teeth and gums like she was some lab rat.
"You've been a bad little dog for Master, pup. And you know what happens to bad little dogs?" He stretched her mouth even more, eyes cold as ice as he felt his stiff cock harden now. "Such a pretty sleeve for Master's cock." He whispered under his breath, admiring her stretched open mouth.
Before her lust clouded mind could even decipher what was happening, Sehun had already pulled her over the bed, placing her face first against the mattress before hurriedly locking her hands in place against the headboard with handcuffs he had pulled out of his pockets, lips brushing the shell of the girl's ear as his breath fanned her skin.
"They are taught a lesson they will remember for a lifetime."
A shiver ran down her spine as she shuddered, crying even harder and loving the intensity of it all. He could be so sweet and kind but also so cold and rough. So contrasting but so good.
"Hnnngg~" she couldn't help but grind her ass against his abdomen as the man was hurriedly stripping himself of his clothes, making him chuckle as he slapped her mildly bruised ass, causing the smaller body to jump in defense.
"You sure you don't want this?" Pumping his cock, Sehun grinned as he rubbed his length before Y/n's ass cheeks, landing a slap on one before squeezing it hard and pulling at it, pushing it away from the other one. "Because it looks like you do~" a surrendered nod came from the girl, causing him to chuckle.
It was no news that the girl wasn't much of a fighter against him, always melting into her Master's control.
But now was the time of the promised surprise Sehun had told her of. The twist.
Fishing the bottle of lube out of the pocket of his discarded jacket, the male easily opened it with one hand and squeezed it hard, aiming for the tiny little fairly unused hole that would always have her thrash and whine if touched.
And it always made Sehun go for it even more.
A loud muffled whine erupted from the girl as realisation dawned upon her. Fuck. He was about to give her some good old anal that always had her penguin walking for days.
Oh no!
Y/n wanted- needed stimulation in her aching pussy and she needed it now!
Sehun, on the other hand was enjoying the now genuine struggle, humming to himself a devilishly sweet tone whilst dripping thick drops of the liquid on his cock now, the thick tip already pushing against the tiny hole now.
Readying it for the deal was one thing, but forcing it to open as it desperately tried to reject his cock and push it out was on a whole different level.
"It never manages to amuse me how you think fucktoys like you have a choice against-" biting his lip, Sehun enjoyed the feeling of her warm and tight ring of muscles encased his fat tip, hands carelessly discarding the almost empty lube. "-their… fuck-" The male grunted as he struggled to fit his impressively huge cock up her tiny ass, both hands squeezing her bruising ass before separating the cheeks to help it open up, hips slowly pushing deeper and deeper as Y/n's mouth formed an 'O', fresh tears escaping her eyes as her whole felt as though it were on fire.
But hell…
It burnt so good.
He always made it hurt so good.
"... against their Masters" Sehun was panting by the time he was able to finish his sentence, halting midway before pulling outwards to drill the entry a bit wider before moving his whole cock in, the upper half of Y/n's body going limp against the bed as she whimpered and moaned to the pain, the lower half raised in the air as it was being thoroughly invaded.
"Fuck! Such a tight little dog!" The male grunted as he felt his hips slowly easing up because of the ring of muscles slowly getting used to his cock, not many loud sounds coming from the girl.
"Come here!" Grabbing her neck, Sehun made her sit up straighter on her knees, causing her ass to slide back on his cock as she whined loudly, drool dripping down her chin as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, making Sehun thrust harder as he watched her from the mirror he had installed right above the headboard to watch her in such positions, other hand squeezing and pinching her sensitive and hard nipples.
"Look at yourself, little pup. Look up!" Pulling at her hair from behind until she was looking at him through the mirror with her lust clouded and tear filled eyes, Sehun sped up mercilessly faster, trying to fit his big balls in the hole too. "This is what you are, just a pathetic little cocksock. This is what delusional little fucktoys like yourself-" slapping one of her cheeks he humiliating pushed her nose back, making her blush even harder in embarrassment.
"-get for thinking they can whine about things. Tch. You should be grateful for whatever I give you. Such a bratty pet I have." Her eyebrows were furrowed in pain and concentration as she felt her tits fly back and forth humiliatingly fast due to the powerful thrysts, this sight alone enough to make her cum.
This mirror was such an embarrassment.
Sehun's body draped over Y/n's back as he chased his orgasm, placing his lips against her neck after pushing her hair out of the way, kissing and licking at the skin before sucking at it, one hand choking it and cutting her air supply as the other one trailed down south.
"Tell me when you're close by nodding." Was a much gentle and soft sound as compared to the loud sound of flesh slapping against flesh as his fingers creeped down and between the girl's wet and squishy pussy lips, making her close close in sweet pleasure.
Oh, good heavens. Finally.
What the poor girl found out soon after was that whenever she'd near her orgasm and nod hazily to let him know, Sehun would devilishly grin in the mirror and stop right away, waiting until the build up was gone before starting the torture all over again, an expert at holding back his own.
Why? Just because he simply could.
It was only a good while after that he painted her walls white with his seed and allowed her to cum, removing the torn underwear from her mouth to have relieved sobs tumble out as the girl collapsed against the bed, going limp as the male slowly eased her out of her restraints, gently rubbing them with the pads of his thumbs while whispering sweet nothings in her ear.
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Too Late For An Apology
Word Count: 1,823
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Reader
Pairings: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader; John Winchester x Daughter!Reader
Warnings: angst, slight torture, slight TW: abuse, but doesn’t go too in depth
A/N: i’m sorry my posting schedule sucks now oof
A/N 2: Thanks to my fav bitch @tragedy-of-sorts​ for reading and also for being my fav 
A/N 3: The reader’s like six years younger than Dean, two younger than Sam
Masterlist
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You heard your doorbell ringing in the middle of the night, while you shot your head up, looking at the clock next to you. It was 3 in the morning. You frowned slightly, reaching for your gun before slipping out of bed, looking through the eyehole.
“Dad?” you opened the door, revealing your father showing up in front of you.
“Hey, (Y/N),” you wrapped your arms around John, still in shock.
“Dad, what are you doing here? And at this time?” he walked into your apartment before you closed the door, turning on the lights.
“I have a lead. Hunting the demon that killed your mother. I’ll need your help,” he started.
You felt chills going down your spine.
“Where are Sam and Dean?” you asked.
“Sam went away to college, and Dean’s off somewhere, on a hunt probably,” he replied.
“Wouldn't either of them be able to help you better? I haven't hunted in two years, Dad,” you kept your voice low.
“They can’t know. They’ll mess everything up, you know how your brothers are. We leave tomorrow, okay?” you nodded your head softly, before going to pack your bag, getting ready for the big hunt.
---
“That’s totally unfair! (Y/N) doesn't have to train! (Y/N) doesn’t have to do anything!” you could hear Dean yelling at John, while you hid behind the door of Bobby’s house. You held a drawing in your hands, one that you made of yourself with your siblings and father.
“She is a child!” John yelled back.
“She’s twelve! When me and Sam were twelve you would force us to hunt! You never let us rest? I hate (Y/N) and I hate how you give her special treatment all the damn time!” tears welled up in your eyes as you crumpled the paper, stuffing it into your bag before sneaking back upstairs.
---
“Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you and Dad for?” you kept your gaze on your bed sheets in your hospital room, hearing Dean yell at you.
“I tried to-”
“Not only do you abandon us, now you’re back, and with Dad, and never thought it was important to tell us?” he yelled.
You frowned slightly before realization hit you. They never knew why you left.
“I’m sorry,” you clenched your jaw.
He groaned, frustrated.
“Get ready, we’re leaving,” he slammed the door shut as he walked out of your hospital room.
---
“I saw your journal in the trash can, (Y/N),” John sat down next to you in your bed.
“I’m kind of over the whole drawing thing,” you lied, shaking your head.
“What happened?” John asked.
“Nothing happened, I just don't like it anymore,” you shrugged, turning back to your schoolwork.
“Just like that?” he questioned.
“I want to go on a hunt,” you said.
“What? (Y/N)...”
“I’m sure, Dad,” you interrupted him.
“Fine. We’ll start your training tomorrow,” he agreed.
He kissed your forehead and left, before you laid on your bed, digging your face in your pillow.
---
You held back a sob, watching John’s body burst into flames. There was silence between the three of you, while you stood a distance away from them.
“Sam,” your voice was barely above a whisper.
“Let’s go,” he walked away from you, while he and Dean headed back to the car.
Your tears fell down your face, as you let out a shaky breath.
“(Y/N)!” Sam yelled.
“I-I’m coming,” you followed them back to the car, keeping your head low.
---
Your vision was blurry as you sat in the chair, a rope tied to your hands painfully. There was blood dripping from your wounds as you cried out in pain.
“Just tell us where he is,” the vampire grabbed your hair, pulling your head up.
“No!” you screamed.
Your face was covered with dried tears, new ones forming. Your eye was bruised. 
“You’re gonna talk, kid. Sooner or later,” you felt his fangs enter the skin on your neck as you whimpered. Your body was too weak to move.
“Just let me go, please,” you begged.
You could barely keep your eyes open, crying softly.
---
“What happened to your eye?” Dean walked past you, noticing the darkened skin around your left eye.
“Don't worry about it,” you shook your head, avoiding eye contact with him.
You knew he didn't remember what he did to you last night.
“Me and Sam are going on a hunt,” he said.
“Just you and Sam?” you asked.
“(Y/N), you know you’ll just end up slowing us down. If we need you, we’ll call you,” he replied.
“Right,” you nodded your head softly.
After the two of them left, you ran to your room, stuffing all your belongings into a duffel bag.
Now was finally your chance to leave them. They always hated you, it didn't matter that you were their sister. Your black eye is the least they've done to you while drunk, and you knew you had to leave.
You stood at the door, looking down at the bunker before shaking your head. It was time to go.
---
“Dad?” you opened your eyes, scrunching them as the fluorescent hospital light blinded you.
“(Y/N),” he let out a breath of relief, wrapping his arms around you as you winced.
“You’re not hunting ever again,” your eyes watered slightly as you nodded your head.
“I’m going to set you up with an apartment. You’re leaving this life,” you frowned.
“Dad, no-”
“Yes, (Y/N). You were tortured for information. I am trying to keep you safe, do not argue with me,” he raised his voice slightly.
“How come you never treat Sam and Dean like this?” you scoffed.
“They’re not my daughter. You are,” he said.
“That’s not an excuse. They’re still my brothers. They are still your sons,” you crossed your arms together.
“Enough, (Y/N). I’ll be back in the morning to get you,” he said.
“Dad,” he closed the door, leaving your room while you sighed, slumping in your bed.
---
“Babe? Are you home? I’ve been stuck at work all day, and I know we’re late to pick up…” you dropped your bag on the floor, Sam and Dean standing in front of you while you entered your house.
“Your husband and kid are out,” Dean spoke.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you were sure to take a step back.
“We could ask you the same thing, you know,” Sam scoffed.
“You left us again. You abandoned us again,” Dean clenched his fist in anger as you tensed, feeling fear run throughout your veins.
“I don't… why are you guys here?” your voice was softer as you scratched the back of your neck.
“You can't be here, you’re a danger to my family,” you could feel the nervousness in your veins as you stood firmly. You’ve spent too long afraid of them.
“You son of a bitch. What the hell are we then?!” Dean yelled.
You flinched slightly.
“Why did you leave, (Y/N)? Why did you run away?” Sam’s voice was slightly calmer, anger still evident.
“I couldn't take both of your crap anymore,” you shook your head.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean scoffed.
“The day I left, you asked me how I got that black eye. Because you didn't remember giving it to me that previous night,” you dug your nails into your palm, trying to hold back your tears. Dean immediately scoffed, shaking his head.
“You’re lying,” he said.
“All my life, the two of you have despised everything about me,” you started.
“(Y/N),” Sam opened his mouth.
“Shut up!” you yelled.
You saw a surprised look on both of their faces.
“I never noticed it until I was twelve. I drew a picture for you, Dean. It was a picture of all of us, Mom included. I wanted to give it to you until I overheard you talking with Dad. Y-You told him how much you hated… how much you hated me,” you let a tear fall down your face, as Dean’s softened.
“I always tried to do whatever I could to get you two to like me, or at least to not hate me. But nothing I ever did was good enough,” you sniffled.
“That doesn't change the fact that you abandoned us,” Dean tried to defend himself.
“The first time I left was because a vampire was trying to use me to get to Dad. He didn't want that for me, and so he took me out of the life, at least until he got a lead on Azazel,” you clenched your jaw, letting out a shaky breath.
“T-The… you and Sam used to get really, really drunk. You’d never remember it in the morning. You would h-hurt me. I covered up so many bruises because I didn't want to upset you two,” your voice broke slightly as you looked at Dean.
There were visible tears in his and Sam’s eyes.
“I never knew why you hated me so much. W-Was it because Dad treated me differently? Was it because I’m the youngest? Was it because I reminded you of Mom? Was it because… was it jealousy?” Dean took a step forward, while you quickly took a step back.
“(Y/N), we never meant… We never meant to hurt you,” Sam’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“That’s all you have? Really?” you scoffed.
“Sam, just… (Y/N). Listen to me,” Dean started.
“I was jealous of you. Dad always treated you differently, always treated you specially. I was stupid, and wrong. Every time I did anything for Dad, I would only get into more trouble. Whenever you disobeyed him, he would ignore it. I’ve been jealous of you my whole life. Even now. Y-You have a kid, you have a family. You got out. I’m sorry, kid. I’m so sorry for everything,” you wiped away your tears as you kept a strong face on.
“I need you both to leave,” you said.
“I’m sorry-” Dean said.
“The door. I need you both to leave. Now,” you shook your head.
“(Y/N)...”
“You’re about 34 years too late for an apology. I want you to leave. Don't come back here, stay away from me and my family,” the two of them looked at you in shock, before walking to your front door, while you held it open to them.
Dean gave you a small hug, while you remained stiff.
“Take care of yourself, kiddo,” he gave you a small smile, before walking out of your house.
You closed the door behind the two of them, immediately falling to the ground as you let out a loud sob, feeling your heart racing as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Your sobs died down as you leaned against the door, wrapping your arms around yourself. You needed to stay strong, and they needed to stay away.
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heyyyharry · 3 years
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Deep End - Chapter 2: Birthday Boy
…in which Harry gets the birthday surprise he didn’t ask for.
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Word count: 4.7k
AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.
WARNING: MATURE THEMES
All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist
Wattpad link
A/N: Thank you for all the love for Harry and Ezi after chapter 1. Please let me know what you think about each chapter so I can be motivated to write faster 😆
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“Humans are so funny. You make up false stories about us and refuse to believe anything that isn’t the same as your imagination,” the siren said.
Harry tossed his head back and laughed. He held out a finger at her. “No, mermaids aren’t supposed to exist. You’re not supposed to exist.”
The siren narrowed her sharp gaze, and Harry quickly moved back a bit in fear of her grabbing his leg and pulling him into the water. To his surprise, she said, “And who are you to decide that? A useless human with a useless tail–”
“Okay, enough with the tail joke.”
“–can’t even survive the drowning deep. You don’t want to believe we exist, so you won’t have to carry the guilt of trashing our homes and murdering our kind.”
Baffled, Harry worked his jaw while silently cursing himself for never taking part in those debate classes back in school. Well, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that one day he would have to debate with a deadly siren in a cave on his goddamn birthday!
He shut his eyes and sucked in a breath. “Look, lady. I’m only one small human, with a bigger than average human tail, FYI.” The siren eyed at his crotch in disbelief, so he quickly crossed his legs. “But that’s beside the point! What I was trying to say was that, if you’re seeking revenge, I can’t satisfy you because I’m not responsible for trashing the ocean or shit like that. I’m a singer, alright? And I don’t even live here. I’m from London. A land far away. If you wanna murder a human, I suggest looking for Elon Musk.”
The siren stared at him like he was the mythical creature. “I’m not familiar with all the names you mentioned,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, which had been a big distraction for him. Good to know that he could still get horny while facing death.
“Don’t you guys have fish Wikipedia?” he asked, and she tilted her head, looking rather confused. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that you should know all the facts about humans. That sounded like discrimination against sirens.”
For the first time since Harry met this siren, she actually smiled at him. “You have a lot of funny words, you strange creature,” she said, her eyebrows knitted in fascination.
“You know what?” Harry exhaled sharply. “Since you’re my kidnapper, I’m gonna stop arguing with you in case you still wanna kill me. But today is my birthday, so I can’t be kidnapped. I haven’t posted a thank you message on Twitter yet, and I might get cancelled for that. Celebrities get cancelled for literally anything nowadays. It’s annoying.” The siren blinked at him, her pink lips slightly parted. “Right,” he breathed. “You don’t have a Twitter account.”
“You said you were a singer.”
“That’s all you got from my long speech?”
“What is it? Singer.”
Harry bit his dry lip and frustratedly combed his fingers through his damp hair. “I sing. Use my voice to entertain other people.”
“Oh, like sirens.”
“I guess.”
“Except that we use our voice to kill people.”
“What?”
“Sing for me,” said the siren despite Harry’s horrified look. She seemed excited as she rested her folded arms on a boulder and gazed up at him with a twinkle in her crystal clear blue eyes. “Let’s hear it. I didn’t know humans could sing. Let’s see if it’s good.”
“Fine.” Harry blew out his cheeks and cleared his throat.
He began to sing.
“Walk in your rainbow paradise–”
“What’s a rainbow paradise?” the siren asked, but he didn’t stop singing to answer her.
“–brown skin and lemon over ice.”
“Why are you singing nonsense words?”
Once again, he ignored her, this time, closing his eyes. “I get so lost inside your eyes. Don’t you believe it? You don’t have to say you love me.”
“Love,” the siren repeated the word as if she had never heard of it in her whole life.
Harry opened his eyes and found that she was looking at him as if she could see right through him. He went on, “You don’t have to say you’re mine. Oh honey, I-i-i-i walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you.”
“Why would you walk through fire for someone?” the siren wondered out loud as she stared off into the distance, her strong brows knitted. “That's stupid. Fire is hot. I saw the humans on the boats use it one night. I almost burned my fingers trying to touch it.”
“Yeah, don’t play with fire.”
“Then why would you walk through it?”
The siren pouted, and Harry caught himself smiling at her naivety. “It’s supposed to mean that you’d do anything for the person you love. Even risking your life.”
“That’s stupid,” the siren repeated her earlier remark. For a second, Harry saw a curious little girl and not a dangerous sea creature from earlier.
“Well, it’s just a song,” Harry told her. “I personally wouldn’t do that for anyone, either, but some people do love with all they have, and would sacrifice everything for the one they love.”
An angry frown had replaced the siren’s previous perplexed expression. “Some humans murder the ones they claim to love,” she said in a cold voice. Harry felt a chill running down his spine, but then the siren went on with a softened expression. “Sirens are not supposed to love. Love is a weakness for my kind.”
Harry nodded. “Bet you don’t even have a heart.”
The siren cocked her head; a corner of her mouth raised subtly. “Every living and breathing thing has a heart. Sometimes it’s valuable. Sometimes it's not.”
“Only valuable if it’s the heart that you want,” replied Harry.
For a long moment, the siren looked into his eyes as if she was trying to read his thoughts. Could she do that? Read his thoughts?
Beads of sweat were trickling down his back as his heart began to race; he could hear it in his ears. Suddenly, the siren was pulled beneath the water. Harry stiffened at once. The ocean was still for a moment, then two sparkling tails burst through the surface. Harry’s jaw fell slack with a soundless scream when he saw another siren sinking her fangs into the first one's neck.
The other siren had bright red hair and a silver tail. There were visible scars all across her pale, lanky arms, and he couldn’t see her face. Legs too stiff to run and hide, he stood on the edge and watched in absolute terror. The scene in front of him was madness as the sirens screeched, their tails flapping, creating violent waves as they sank their claws and teeth into each other’s flesh. Harry could see blood. The first siren was not as strong as the one that was attacking her. He must save her. Maybe a part of him knew that she wasn’t entirely evil. Maybe because she was the only hope for him to get home. Either way, he couldn’t just stand by and watch her die.
Before Harry could even think of a way, a bony hand wrapped around his ankle and dragged him into the sea.
.
.
.
Harry’s dreams were thick with blood and haunted by the siren’s face. He’d been in the dark water, drowning, and the last thing he’d seen was her sapphire eyes glowing with the sunlight above as she’d stretched out her arm to grab him before he sank deeper. He woke up gasping, still feeling the saltiness of the ocean on his tongue and the pressure of water on his lungs.
He found himself lying on his bed, fully naked under the covers. Had he been dreaming?
Kneading his temple to chase away the headache, Harry scanned his sore eyes around the room and screamed when he saw her sitting in the corner. Naked. He looked away as soon as he caught her ocean blue eyes staring back.
The siren was in his room. And she had legs!
“You’re alive!” she exclaimed.
He heard her standing up but couldn’t bring himself to look. She sat down on the edge of his bed, smelling like the ocean. Not the fishy kind of smell; one that was unique, and Harry liked it even though he shouldn’t.
“This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream,” he mumbled to himself while clutching the duvet to his chest.
The siren, now a human girl, let out a sigh. “It’s not. This is real. I’m real.”
“You’re not.”
“Look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“You’re...naked.”
Even though Harry wasn’t looking, he could feel her questioning gaze pinning on him. He grabbed the covers and shoved them at her. “Cover yourself.”
“Oh...okay.” The siren did as she was told as Harry quickly placed a pillow on his private part. He finally looked at her, and she smiled while covering her upper body and the area between her legs with the duvet.
Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Better. Okay, why are you here?”
The siren’s eyes widened. “You don’t remember?”
Harry shook his head.
“We were talking when my sister attacked me, then dragged you into the water. You were lucky I saved you twice and brought you back to where I’d found you. This is the only palace on this beach, so I assumed it was yours.”
Harry sat and stared her face, trying to detect a lie but failed.
The siren rolled her eyes. She seemed disappointed as she swept her long black hair over her shoulder, exposing the huge bite mark on her long pale neck. The skin had healed, and the blood had dried, but the area was still bruised. Harry fought the urge to touch it. There was no way this was really happening.
The siren shot a glance at his ankle. And that was when Harry noticed the red claw mark around it. He shivered at the flashbacks of a siren with red hair and a silver tail charging straight at him with her mouth wide open, her sharp teeth ready to tear off his flesh.
“Sorry about my sister. She could be very...deadly,” the siren in front of him said, looking remorseful.
Harry eyed her up and down once again. Finally, he broke his silence, “What happened to your tail?”
The siren refused to look him in the eye as she said, “My mother found out that I saved you, a human, so she cursed me.”
“Cursed you?”
The siren said nothing; the corners of her mouth lowered as she stared down sadly at her legs.
What kind of The Little Mermaid plot is this? Harry thought to himself, yet didn’t say it because it shouldn’t be a joke. She’d lost her tail, which meant she couldn’t go back to the ocean. Ariel from The Little Mermaid had wished to become a human. This girl had been cursed with the life she never wanted just to save him twice.
Harry buried his face into his palms. “Shit. Fuck. I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
“It is your fault.”
His head whipped up at her honest response. “You always say what you think, don’t you?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
Harry sighed and ran his palm over his face. “Never mind. How...how do I get you back to your mermaid form?”
“Siren.”
“Sorry, siren. How do I help turn you back?”
“I don’t know,” she said sadly, clutching the duvet to her chest. “But I need a place to stay until I figure it out.”
Harry thought for a moment and nodded. “I’ll pay for your hotel room.”
“What’s a hotel?” the siren asked, her eyes round. “And why can’t I stay here in your palace? It’s big and you live alone.”
“This is a house, not a palace,” Harry said. “But I’m going back to London tomorrow, and I can’t take you with me.”
“Where is London? I want to see London.”
Seeing her so excited made Harry laugh. “No, you don’t; trust me. It’s not sunny there. Always dark and gloomy and raining.”
“It’s not sunny underwater, either.”
Harry held up a finger and kept his mouth open for a moment as he pondered over what she’d said. “Good point. But I’m still not taking you to London. That’s not a good idea.”
The siren’s eyebrows drew together. “It was your fault I’m in this situation.”
Harry gasped. “You’re so manipulative!”
“I don’t know what it means.”
“It means you say things like that to get me to feel sorry for you, and so I have to help you.”
“Oh, then, yeah, I’m manipulative,” the siren said. “Take me to London with you, or I’ll find you in London and make your life hell.”
Harry tossed his head back and groaned. As if he hadn’t been traumatised enough by all the events that had happened today, now he had to take responsibility for the life of a mythical creature. If he had been a bad guy, he would have just let the government have her and keep her in a lab like that Oscar-winning movie about the dead girl and her fish lover. But Harry wasn’t a villain. Sure, he could be an asshole, but he couldn’t betray someone who’d risked her life to save his. Twice.
Maybe if he’d just say yes and then leave quickly in the morning, he wouldn’t have to deal with her. He’d ask someone to take care of her, pay for a place for her to stay and her food. Her mother would have to take her back eventually. He didn’t know about sirens, but even in the animal kingdom, mothers never abandoned their children.
“Fine, I’ll take you to London,” he said. Seeing the smile on her face, he was lowkey thankful that he was so good at lying. “First, you have to put some clothes on. Wait here.”
Carefully, he slipped out of bed, holding a pillow in front of his crotch and one behind him to cover his butt, then padded awkwardly to his closet to change and get her something to wear. When he returned, she was still sitting on his bed, humming a familiar song and kicking her feet as if testing out her new body parts. He found it endearing, but of course, he wouldn’t tell her.
He handed her a bathrobe. “Put this on. I’ll find some real clothes for you later.”
The siren accepted the bathrobe and stared at it as if she’d been told to put it in her mouth and chew. She glanced up at him. “I don’t understand the purpose of this.”
“To cover up your private parts.”
Suddenly, she seemed sad. “I think I’m broken.”
Harry blinked. “What?”
She looked at him again, pouting. “I don’t have a tail.”
“I can see that.”
“No, I mean, a tail like yours.”
When Harry realised what she meant, his face burned, and he cleared his throat into his fist. “You’re not supposed to,” he said awkwardly. “You’re...a female. I bet male sirens don’t look the same as you, right?”
“There’s no male sirens,” she told him.
Harry cocked his head to the side, squinting his eyes. “Huh? Then how do you guys...you know?”
She blinked innocently at him. She didn’t know.
“Mate.” The word made Harry cringe. “How do you mate?”
“Sirens mate with mermen. We only need them for children.”
“Okay, that’s...new…”
Harry would be glad to find out more, but this was definitely not the right time. He waved his hand, urging her to hurry up. Clumsily, the siren got to her feet. Harry didn’t intend to stay here while she changed, but since she could barely keep her balance, she had to hold onto his arms. He stood there, staring at the ceiling as the duvet dropped. She was completely naked in front of him now and so dangerously close. The voice inside his head was telling him not to peek. Fuck. Why did she have to be sexy?
“Do you...um...do you need help?” he asked as she seemed to be struggling with the bathrobe.
“No, thanks. I got it!” she said between ragged breaths, then, “Hey your tail is growing!”
Harry’s eyes dropped to the front of his boxers, his face heating at the sight of his erection. He gently pushed her back onto the bed and rushed to the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” she shouted after him. “I need to see it in its full form!”
“This is its full form!”
“It’s still small.”
“Shut up! It’s not!”
.
.
.
Ezili felt bad for lying to this human.
Well, lying was the whole point of her mission, but he had been so nice to her when he found out she couldn’t return to the ocean. She blamed her new human heart for these emotions. Siren Ezili would never feel sorry for this ugly creature. No, wait, this one wasn’t ugly. The mermen were ugly. As much as she despised humans, she must admit that most of them were beautiful.
When this human wasn’t looking, Ezili would regard him with as much curiosity as he had regarded her in secret. The way his brown curls swept back messily. His defined jawlines. The deep dimples in his cheeks. The look of wonder in his eyes. He looked about her age, but his eyes were innocent, greener than seaweed.
She looked away as he caught her gawking. They were sitting at a small table on the floor. The room was darkly lit by the light in the corner. On the table was a mushy pile with little fire sticks on top.
“What is this?” Ezili asked, inspecting the object.
The human smiled at her, the firelight dancing in his leaf-green eyes as he said, “It’s a cake. We’re celebrating my birthday.”
“You told me not to play with fire.”
“We’re gonna put it out anyway.” He winked at her. “A little fire won’t hurt.” Ezili watched the human take out a little black thing and flick his thumb. Fire flared out, making Ezili flinch. “Relax,” he chuckled and the fire vanished. “This is called a lighter. It makes fire. This is a cake. These are candles.”
“What do we do with the cake?”
“We eat it.”
“You eat fire?”
The human laughed at Ezili’s distressed look. “No, silly. We blow out the candles, then eat the cake.”
“Oh,” she said, making him laugh harder. She found it disrespectful and annoying. Was this creature making fun of her? “What’s so funny?” she asked through gritted teeth.
The human stopped laughing, yet his dimples were still visible. “I can’t believe I’m celebrating my twenty-fourth with a siren,” he said.
“Who do you usually celebrate with?” Ezili asked.
“My friends or family,” the human said. “My friends were supposed to be here but their flight got cancelled due to bad weather.” The sadness in his eyes disappeared as he gave a dismissive wave and laughed. “Oh well, it’s not bad being alone. In fact, I’ve been alone my whole life.”
“That’s sad,” Ezili murmured, mesmerized by the candles.
“It’s not,” replied the human. “Some people live their whole life surrounded by others, and yet, they’re still lonely.”
As he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, smiled, and blew out the candles, Ezili sat there and pondered over his last words.
They didn’t eat the cake right away, because the humans said they ought to eat it after dinner. Apparently, humans ate three main meals a day—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sirens ate when they were hungry, so this was very new to Ezili. She picked up the small shiny thing that shaped like her mother’s trident and pushed around the foods on her plate. “What is this?”
“Fish,” the human said with a smile.
“Dead?”
“You expect me to eat alive fish?”
Ezili scowled at him. “That’s what we eat.”
“You’re human now. Try cooked fish.”
When she didn’t do anything but stare at the plate, the human nudged her hand with his knuckles. “Come on. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you the raw fish in the fridge.”
Ezili doubted that this imbecile creature would poison her with these colourful foods to get away with his responsibility, but at the same time, nothing was impossible.
However, she would probably faint if she didn’t eat. This dinner actually smelled good, and her stomach was rumbling because she hadn’t eaten since yesterday. And so she stabbed the fish’s burned flesh with her little trident, closed her eyes and put it into her mouth. It was soft, salty and a bit spicy, and...surprisingly delicious. She quickly took another bite, and another, and another.
“Wow, you’re really hungry, huh?” The human chuckled. “You like it?”
Ezili nodded fast, unable to answer because her mouth was full.
The human seemed satisfied. “Good. Means I’m a great cook.”
Ezili chewed fast and swallowed as the human began to eat. She tried to copy the way he held the little trident and the knife, and felt like she’d changed. Her mother would hate her so much for enjoying this. And Koa would make sure everyone in their kingdom knew and turn her into a laughing stock.
“Do you have any questions for me?” she said, breaking the silence, mostly to distract herself from thinking about the mission and her family.
The human thought for a second. “Hmmm, I have a bunch so I don’t know where to start.” Then, after a pause, “Why did your mum do this to you? Doesn’t she love you?”
Ezili wished she could stab him for bringing up the topic she’d been trying to avoid. Instead, she sucked in a breath. “She does. It’s just...the way sirens show love is different from humans. We teach our children to be strong from the moment they are born. Sirens live dependent on one another to survive, and so we always have to look out for one another. I guess that’s love for us. My mother is the Sea Queen. She’s very powerful, and so she has high hopes for my sister and I. My sister is better than me, though. I’ve always envied her.”
“Your sister is scary as hell,” the human remarked. “But if your mum is the Queen, you must be a princess.”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, so does that make me Prince Eric?”
“Your name is Eric?”
“No,” the human chuckled. “It’s a reference from The Little Mermaid. You should watch that film. You’d probably hate it though. Anyway, it’s so weird that we don’t know each other’s name. I’m Harry.” The human, well, Harry, put his hand across the table. Ezili didn’t know what to do with it so she just stared.
“I’m Ezili.”
Harry smiled, picked up her right hand and shook it. His hand was bigger than her and warm. She liked it.
“Cool name. Can I call you Ezi?”
Ezili instantly pulled her hand back. “No, you filthy creature. That’s not my name!”
“Ezi is short for Ezili.”
“What?”
Harry ignored the look of confusion she was giving him. “Or I could call you Bubbles. That’s a cute nickname.”
“Why Bubbles?”
“Because…” He tossed his head back and groaned. “Damn, woman, you gotta read the story, too. I can’t make these jokes if you don’t get the references.”
Ezili had so many questions. Just as she was about to ask, the black thing on the table lit up and started playing a song that startled Ezili.
“Sorry. My mum’s calling,” Harry said as he picked up the thing and swiped his fingers across it. “Right on time.”
“Is your mother trapped in that thing?” Ezili asked, clutching the hem of the shirt Harry had told her to wear. It was too big on her but she loved that it was comfortable and kept her warm.
“No, this is a phone,” Harry said, shaking the magical device with light coming out of it. “So my mum’s in London, and when she calls me on the phone, her voice gets transferred through it, and I can hear what she says.” He pushed himself up and told Ezili, “I’ll be right back.”
Once Harry was gone, Ezili sat there and tried her best to process all the new information. It was only her first night on land and she was already going through it. This mission was harder than she thought. Still, she had no choice but to continue. She must have that heart, and her mother would be so proud.
.
.
.
When Harry woke up this time, he was on his private jet.
“Hey.”
He screamed, causing Ezi to fall back into her seat in front of him. He whipped his head around and saw that they were the only two people in this cabin. Before he could even come up with a question, Ezi got up, her hand resting on either side of his seat as she leaned forward, until her face was so close to his that he could smell the vanilla scent of the cake in her breath.
Her eyes sharpened at once. “I know you were trying to get rid of me.”
“No...I didn’t.”
“You did, Harry. You were going to leave me at your beach house. I heard you talking on the phone last night with someone else after talking to your mum. You mentioned a hotel room.”
Harry had booked a room for her on the phone last night. He should have done it on the website.
“But guess what?” A corner of her mouth lifted. “I might not have the ability to control tides anymore, but I still have my voice. And so I can control humans with it. I sang you to sleep last night. Then when your servants came to take you to this metal bird, I made him carry you to the magic black carriage and I came here with you. You think you’re one step ahead, you’re wrong. Try that again. I dare you.”
Harry swallowed hard. He could feel his palms sweating as he rubbed them against his thighs. “Okay, I’m sorry for that,” he said.  “But you can’t control people like that. If someone found out what you’re capable of...what you are...you’d be in big trouble.”
Ezi arched an eyebrow as she slowly backed away and stood straight with her arms across her chest. Thank God, Harry’s mother called just in time. He immediately got up and excused himself to answer the phone. He left a pouty Ezili in the cabin and went to the exit to talk to his mother.
“My precious boy, are you on the plane right now?”
“Yes, Mum,” Harry sighed.
“Good. I just need the name of your date for the seat arrangement.”
Harry stiffened for a second then quickly glanced over his shoulder to check if Ezi was eavesdropping. Fortunately, she was distracted by a magazine.
“Like now?” he asked his mum.
“Yes. Last night you told me you found one.”
Yes, Harry remembered that part, but he’d only said that so his mum would stop pestering him.
He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I did.”
“Her name?”
He hesitated before saying, “Ezili Hans.”
Hans as in Hans Christian Andersen. The writer of The Little Mermaid. If he had the energy to be happy, he’d give himself a pat on the back for the creativity.
“Great,” his mother said, sounding as if he’d just told her he was getting married. “I’m so excited to meet this girl.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, dear?”
“I-I said ‘Well, of course’,” Harry said and covered it up with a nervous laugh.
When he got off the phone with his mum, he felt a light tap on the shoulder and turned around to see Ezi. Shit, had she listened to–
“I promise I won’t use my singing voice to control you again,” she said, to his surprise. "Please. I cannot survive on my own." She twisted the hem of his band-tee uneasily. Even though she looked super cute in his t-shirt and joggers, she was still too underdressed for someone that was travelling on a private jet.
“Fine. You can stay,” he heard himself say while trying to imagine her with actual clothes that fit her.
Ezi’s blue eyes lit up, and the smile that rarely showed up on her face caught Harry off guard. He almost forgot what was happening.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “But we need to set up some rules.”
212 notes · View notes
bakugorgeous · 3 years
Text
No Days Off For Heroes
🌆 Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader
🌆 word count: 4.9k 
🌆 summary: Your weekend plans take a turn for the worse when you and one of your classmates jump into action to help against a villain attack. You hadn’t thought it would end in one of you almost dying.
🌆 warnings: swearing, violence, talk of death (send me an ask if anything needs to be added)
🌆 a/n: hi all, this is my first time ever writing for mha so please forgive me if my characterization isn’t the greatest I’m still getting the hang of it <3. as of rn I’m only on season two (I’ll update in my bio as I move on) so no spoilers please if I write something that isn’t canon timeline compliant <3
🌆 masterlist
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Pulling the strap of your bag up your shoulder, you boarded the bus that would take you home from running errands all day. Of course on your weekend off from school you’d much rather be relaxing at home, or at the very least doing some light training to make sure you stay on top of your game, but your mother just had to send you running all over town, dropping things off, returning borrowed items to their rightful owners, all the things she was too busy for. You swear she waits specifically for when you have nothing going on to make you do all her errands for her.
But now, with your watch telling you it was just after four and all your tasks having been completed, you should make it home just in time to have a nice dinner, take a long bath, and curl up in your bed for a well deserved tv marathon.
Glancing up and around at the other passengers, trying to stay aware of your surroundings, your eyes passed over a very familiar head of blond hair before moving on to the next row of seats over. Once it registered in your mind, your gaze flitted back to your ruby-eyed classmate. 
Katsuki Bakugo was… certainly a very strong personality. His short temper mixed with his cocky attitude made for some interesting moments at school, but once you look past the yelling and cussing and the fact that he always felt the need to be better than everyone else in the room, you didn’t think he was all that bad. He was definitely a strong student, and you’re sure he’d make for a strong hero as well.
Seeing him outside of a school setting was a nice change, though a surprising one. You weren’t expecting to see him on the same bus as you, clad in a sweatshirt and jeans, staring down at his phone with his brow unfurrowed and his expression much… softer and more relaxed than what you were used to. For once you were seeing him when there was no one for him to compete with and nothing for him to prove. It was a nice change.
You looked away, sure that if you observed him any longer he’d feel your eyes on him and catch you in the act, ending the peaceful atmosphere of the bus ride.
Unfortunately, that peace didn’t last long anyway.
The bus came to a screeching halt, all the passengers jolting at the sudden stop, as what looked like a group of villains- you counted five or six- dashed out onto the street, followed by only two pro heroes who seemed to be struggling to get any control over the outnumbering group. Guess there were no days off for heroes.
Your head whipped to where you knew Bakugo had been sitting, your eyes locking as he found you. A stiff nod from him was all it took for you to drop your bag and sprint off the bus, Bakugo catching up to you quickly as you followed two villains who’d split off from the rest into a sketchy looking factory. 
“Did you get a good look at them?” you asked your classmate as you approached the building.
“One man, one woman,” he told you, his voice steady and confident despite quite literally running into danger. “His quirk seems to be related to manipulating steel but I didn’t get a good look at hers.”
“So we’re being lured in,” you noted, giving a quick glance over the factory. “This whole building will be a giant playground for him.”
“Yep,” Bakugo confirmed, tiny, harmless explosions popping at his fingertips in anticipation.
“Alright then,” you said, readying yourself. “Let’s see what they’ve got for us.”
The battle played out like some kind of dangerous dance. Fluid and precise, every move well thought out despite the mere seconds you had to think of what you were doing next. You hadn’t had as many chances to work with Bakugo personally as some of the other, more friendly UA students, but it seemed that you both had paid attention to each other’s quirks and fighting styles enough to fall into teamwork rather quickly. It was, afterall, part of what you were trained to be able to do.
The Metal Man, as you’d named him in your head, proved to be a challenging opponent, given that he was much older and definitely in his element, but his accomplice still had yet to reveal her quirk to you and did more work distracting and dodging than actual fighting. Their dynamic kept you and Bakugo on your toes, but it did give you an idea.
“Keep an eye out for an opening,” you muttered as you and your temporary partner found yourself side by side, watching the Metal Man stalk towards you, “I’m gonna try their own strategy against them.”
Bakugo gave you another stiff nod and you were off, taking advantage of your gymnastics training and the various rundown equipment lying about, flipping and tumbling about, trying to stay on the move as you successfully drew the man’s attention and kept him busy with your quirk, producing sharp, blade-like disks and sending them his way from the raised platform you stood on. Doing this gave Bakugo enough time to sneak up behind him and land multiple large blows on your opponent, first to the back of his knees, then between his shoulders, effectively taking him down and planting his shoe against the man’s face, pressing him to the ground.
You released a sigh of relief, finally having the upper hand against the villain and sure that the other heroes would have noticed by now the commotion coming from inside the building, but it seems you’d let your guard down just a little too low.
“Behind you!” Bakugo shouted, and you turned just in time to see the other villain, an open palm held in front of her mouth as she blew some sort of thick, purple smoke directly into your face. The smell was overwhelming, taking over most of your sense as you stumbled back off the platform, just barely hearing her maniacal laugh on your way down.
You were sure that in moments you’d feel your body crash into the ground, too disoriented from the purple haze to be able to save yourself in time. 
“Should have remembered to stay alert,” you chided to yourself, bracing for the bone crushing impact.
The impact you felt, however, was much different than what you expected.
Feeling a pair of arms wrap around your torso and force you into a roll, your partner in crime fighting had dove for you to lessen the blow of your body, landing in a heap with you across the room from where he’d taken down the Metal Man. 
You coughed and wheezed from your spot on the ground, still feeling the presence of the smoke lingering in your lungs as Bakugo was quick to get back to his feet.
“Sorry,” you choked out as he held a hand out to you, pulling you to your feet.
“Can you run?” 
Your head felt light and floaty, like you’d taken one too many rides on a rollercoaster, but you could see fairly well still once you’d given yourself a moment to adjust.
“I think so,” you told him.
“Good,” he grunted. “Cause it looks like they’re trying to make their escape.”
Sure enough, the Metal Man and Smoke Girl had bolted for a corridor of some sort, disappearing round a corner just as Bakugo took off after them, yourself trailing not far behind, but definitely slower than your normal speed.
You could hear the heavy footsteps of the Metal Man and the same hysterical laughter of his companion bounce off the walls in a taunting echo as they somehow managed to stay just out of your line of sight while you and Bakugo chased them around corner after corner until you reached what looked like a dead end room.
The door stood slightly ajar, creaking as it very slowly swayed open, urging you to come forward.
You shared a look with Bakugo before coming to the silent conclusion to enter the room with caution, just in case they lay in wait behind the door to make an attack. Presumably, you’d had them cornered, and you were not about to let the upper hand slip from your grasp again.
Bakugo went in first, with you following behind, trying to ignore the increasing dizziness swirling in your head. The room was mostly empty, except for a few boxes and crates shoved off to one side. No windows, no other doors, and no villains.
“What the-”
Before you could finish, the door behind you slammed shut, and over the sound of metal grinding against metal, you could hear a familiar maniacal laugh. You’d been trapped.
“Son of a bitch!” Bakugo shouted as he tried to pull open the door. It didn’t budge.
You stepped further into the room, looking at the crates to see what contents they held, just in case they could be useful. Your eyes widened and you whipped around, wobbling from the rush it caused your head.
“Bakugo, wait!”
His arms held back as he readied himself to try and force the door down with his quirk, he turned to you, giving you a once over as he mentally noted your worsening state.
“Gasoline,” you explained, gesturing to the crates. “You use your quirk and we go up in flames.”
“Shit,” he muttered. “They knew exactly what they were doing.”
Your head started to pound as your dizziness got worse, finding it increasingly harder not to sway on your feet as Bakugo stared down the door, trying to think of a way to force it open.
“Okay. Maybe if we both-”
Thud.
You groaned as your head smacked against the floor, Bakugo’s entire body whipping around to see your crumpled body on the ground.
“Y/N!”
The only response you could manage was a pathetic whimper as your classmate came to your side, squatting down to roll you onto your back.
“Y/N, are you with me?”
“Mhm,” you hummed.
“What happened, are you injured?”
“The smoke,” you choked out, “I think it did something to me. I can barely see straight.”
As he hovered over you, you saw his face two, sometimes three times swirling around like blossoms in the air on a windy day.
“Stay where you are,” he told you, as if you had a choice, “I’ll get us out myself.”
His determination was admirable, but proved to be inadequate. For ten minutes you laid on the ground, watching him try to ram down the door with his shoulder, kick it down, even going as far as to try and punch it down. Grunts and shouts and the repetitive sound of something heavy hitting against the metal door filled the air as you only felt worse and worse with every passing minute.
“That guy must have done something to jam it shut,” you muttered when he finally took a break to catch his breath.
“You shouldn’t be talking,” he panted, not even glancing your way. “Save your strength.”
“Don’t have any to save,” you replied. “Can’t even lift my head.”
Bakugo straightened up and took a deep breath before sending the weight of his body into the door again.
“You should take your own advice,” you told him weakly. “Give yourself a rest.”
“We need to get out of here,” he growled. “We don’t know what the hell is wrong with you and those villains got away from us.”
“The pros will handle the villains,” you assured him. “And then they’ll come for us.”
“How?” he snapped, making intense eye contact. “If no one saw us come in here how are they gonna know to come get us out?”
You bit your lip. He had a point.
“Do you have your phone?” you asked.
His hand reached around to his back pocket but his shoulders deflated and his hands came back empty.
“Must have dropped it,” he muttered. “You?”
“No. Left it on the bus.”
You were startled by his sudden turn to try kicking the door down again.
“Stupid fucking villains,” he growled.
You opened your mouth to say something, but a flash of pain throughout your abdomen successfully swept it from your mind as your face contorted and you let out a cry of pain.
Bakugo was back at your side, checking over your body for any visible wounds. At least if he could see what was happening he could attempt to treat it. Once the pain passed you were left laying there with your eyes shut tightly and your face scrunched up in misery.
“My mom’s expecting me back any minute now,” you muttered. “She’ll contact the police when I don’t answer my phone a few times. If she knows which bus I was on and the police know it was on the street where the fight happened, then they should have a general area of where to start looking, right?”
Your voice sounded so broken and choppy, Bakugo wasn’t even sure what to do with you at this point. Obviously you couldn’t just suck it up, as much as that was his first instinct in this type of situation.
“Probably,” he agreed. “If anyone on the bus saw where we went that would cut their search time even shorter.”
“So I just-” another burst of pain worse than the previous had you crying out through gritted teeth. “Just gotta hold out until then”
Bakugo nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. Something he was grateful for actually. Because you wouldn’t be able to see his unconvinced expression when he told you;
“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
In between bursts of trying to break the door down, Bakugo made sure to come check on you to see if your condition had gotten any worse. Which you had every time.
On top of the dizziness, pounding headache, and periodic abdominal pains, you’d developed a fever, lost feeling in your fingertips, and got a nasty cough.
“YOU STUPID FUCKING DOOR!” Bakugo shouted after another failed attempt to get you both out.
“How long-” A coughing fit took over you for a moment. “How long have we been trapped in here?”
He sighed and looked over to you with- was that pity? Concern? Or was your mind just playing tricks on you?
“My guess? Couple hours, probably two. Shouldn’t be long now… hopefully.”
You nodded, or tried to with the little energy you had. Your eyes were starting to droop, burning a little as you forced them to stay open.
“Don’t you fall asleep on me now,” he warned you. “You need to stay awake so we can keep track of how you’re doing.”
“Might need you to help me with that,” you admitted. “I don’t know if I can stay awake on my own.”
“The hell am I supposed to do?” he asked.
“Sit down,” you told him. “Give yourself a break- a real one- and talk to me. Keep my brain going so it can’t drift off.”
He watched you for a moment, considering your solution you assumed, before looking away and giving in. Bakugo took a seat on the floor a few feet away from you, criss-crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees, all while avoiding eye contact.
“What do we talk about then?” he asked, picking at the rubber of his sneakers.
“Hmm…” you thought for a moment. “Dogs or cats?”
“Tch,” he scoffed, “that’s what you want to talk about?”
“It’s easy conversation,” you told him, a slight whine to your voice. “I don’t have to think too hard but it keeps me awake. Just answer the question.”
Bakugo grumbled to himself for a moment before sighing and telling you, “I like cats. They leave me the hell alone.”
You breathed out a weak laugh, managing to shake your head a little.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you said to his defensive tone. “Just a very… Bakugo answer.”
“The hell does that mean?” he questioned.
“You just have a very unique way of thinking about things, that’s all.” 
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He couldn’t tell if you were insulting him or not.
“You wanna ask one?” you prompted.
You watched as his tongue flicked out over his lips for a moment as he tried to think of something.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I don’t really do small talk.”
“Fair enough. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
“On the other side of that damn door.”
The response got you to laugh, which triggered another coughing fit to take over.
“Any new symptoms?” Bakugo asked once you’d calmed down a bit.
“Not sure,” you said. “Is it getting cold in here or is that just me?”
“Just you,” he answered, watching you rub your hands up and down your arms.
“Did you ever want a different quirk?”
“No.”
“Really? You never sat around with your friends and talked about what other quirks you think would be fun to have? Or played pretend that you had different quirks?”
“Why would I? I thought only kids without quirks did that.”
“I did,” you admitted. “When my quirk developed a lot of kids in my school stopped wanting to hang out with me- or worse their parents would tell them they shouldn’t go near me- because my quirk was dangerous and they thought I might hurt them.”
“Oh,” he said, awkwardly trying to figure out how to respond to someone telling him something shitty about their life without just saying ‘I don’t care get out of my way loser’ and moving on. “That sucks… I guess.”
“Yeah, but then I found a group of kids who also had quirks that were ‘dangerous’ and we’d make believe that we had nicer, softer quirks. Like breathing underwater or making fields of flowers grow, stuff like that.”
“Any quirk can be dangerous if you know how to use it right, that’s stupid.”
“Yeah,” you shrugged, “but we were kids. You don’t think about how you could drag someone underwater and drown them or choke someone with a rose vine. You just know that sharp things are dangerous and to stay away from them.”
“I always liked my quirk,” he told you. “It made me feel powerful, unstoppable. I’m surprised that’s not the case for everyone like us.”
You decided not to comment on the ‘like us’ part. He’d probably just get huffy and go back to the stupid door, and you rather liked making small talk with Bakugo. When he wasn’t yelling or acting like everyone around him was just an extra in the story of his life he was actually kind of a nice guy.
A wave of shivers washed over your body, your teeth chattering as you shook on the floor.
“Here,” Bakugo said, pulling his sweatshirt off over his head, not even sweating the fact that he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt underneath. “Maybe this can help a little.”
You graciously accepted the extra layer of clothing, thankful for the fact that your eyes could barely stay open long enough for him to even realize the once over you’d given his abs.
You were only human, afterall.
Unfortunately, the added warmth didn’t last you very long before your body started to grow even colder, leaving you in a shivering heap on the ground.
Bakugo was back to his attempts to beat the door down, starting to get worried as you still had yet to be found by anybody. The longer you waited the worse you got and he was determined to make sure you got out okay. He even considered taking the risk on using his powers, but knew that if there were any chance of getting you out without putting your life in any more danger than it already was, he was better off saving that as a last resort. For now he just had to make sure you didn’t-
“Bakugo…” you muttered, snapping him out of his thoughts. Your voice was as shaky as the rest of you and your face had been drained of all its color. Fuck. You looked so much worse than you had when he checked on you just a few minutes ago. “I’m so tired…”
“I know,” he said, trying to mask the uneasiness of his voice, “you just gotta hold out for a little longer. The pros will be here soon.”
Maybe he shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep, but he needed to keep the hope- and you- alive until he could find a way to get this damn door down.
“It’s so cold in here,” you muttered, hugging his sweatshirt closer to your body. 
He came closer and hesitantly touched one of your hands. If he didn’t know any better he’d think your quirk had something to do with ice with how cold your body was.
Your eyes started to flutter closed again and a slight panic started to rise in his chest.
“Hey,” he said quickly, shaking your arm. “Hey! Come on, stay awake!”
“I’m trying,” you said softly, in a borderline whisper. “I just need… a quick nap… too cold to stay awake...”
“No,” Bakugo said firmly, moving you carefully but urgently so that he could hold you against his chest, “no you need to stay awake, the pros will be here soon, I promise.” Hopefully his body heat would help keep you warm, just long enough for someone to find you and get you to someone with healing powers.
“Bakugo,” you murmured into his neck, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for keeping me company.”
“Not that I had a choice,” he said, trying to push down the fear he felt. He wouldn’t let you know just how bad it really was if he could help it, but he knew his protective walls of sarcasm and blunt comments had crumbled about an hour ago.
“We both got trapped here…” you said, eyelashes fluttering against his skin, “but you didn’t have to be so nice to me… thanks.”
You could feel your breaths getting shorter, and you were too exhausted to open your eyes back up.
“If you stay awake I’ll be nice to you again,” he bargained. “Go to sleep now and I’ll keep being an asshole to you.”
The corners of your mouth lifted ever so slightly in amusement.
“Don’t make any promises you can’t keep,” you joked. 
That’s when your hearing started to fade out.
You were able to tell that Bakugo was talking to you, most likely begging you to hold out just a little bit longer, just a few more minutes, but you couldn’t make out the words. You hoped he knew you had tried your best, and you wondered if he’d manage to get you out himself, how much longer you’d be stuck in there, if you’d even make it out before you inevitably died.
Drifting in and out, the feeling of Bakugo’s hands gripping you through his shirt he’d given you started to feel so far away, and just before you were fully consumed by the pitch blackness of unconsciousness, you could have sworn you heard the faintest “I am here!”
“Bakugo!” You shouted, springing up in bed.
When had you made it to a bed?
“Don’t worry dear,” someone said, placing a hand on your shoulder as your eyes flitted around the room, “you’re gonna be just fine.”
Sterile white walls, stiff bed sheets, various monitors set up around you.
A hospital.
“You’re lucky All Might got to you when he did,” the nurse explained to you, an excited glint in her eye at just the mere thought of the symbol of peace. “You were in rough shape when you got brought in. But we got the toxin out of your system and you should be fine in the next couple of days so long as you rest.”
“The boy I was with,” you said, “is he alright?”
“Oh honey, he’s fine,” she told you. “He’s not the one who inhaled the deadly smoke.”
You knew that. You’re not sure why you were more concerned with him than you were with yourself, you just… hoped after all he did for you that nothing bad had happened to him in the time between when you lost consciousness and now.
“He came by a few times while you were still out cold, I’m sure it won’t be long until he’s back to see you.”
Your ears perked up.
“He did?”
That wasn’t what you were expecting. You thought maybe you’d see everyone once you were back at school and maybe, if the opportunity presented itself, you could pull him aside when no one was looking and thank him privately for keeping you alive. That way no one would see and he wouldn’t have to get embarrassed about it.
But he came to see you?
“Of course! Seemed real worried about you too. Kept writing things down a piece of paper, not sure what that was about. Maybe you can ask him about it when he swings by later. I’ll give your mother a call and let her know you’re awake!”
“Yeah, thanks,” you muttered distractedly as she wrote something down in your chart and turned to leave.
He was worried about you? How many times had he come to visit you? Bakugo didn’t seem like the ‘sit by your bedside and wait for you to wake up’ type of guy, not for his group of friends he usually hung out with and certainly not for someone he barely knew. Maybe it was just the shared trauma. Yeah, that might be it. Though you weren’t sure this experience was quite as traumatic for him as it was for you.
“Oh, hello! Welcome back!” you heard your nurse say outside your room. 
Your heart skipped a beat and you gripped your sheets, waiting to see if the person who came through the door was who you were hoping it was.
“Hey,” he said simply, looking almost surprised to see you awake. 
“Hey,” you responded.
“You look like shit.”
You chuckled as he took a few steps further into your room.
“Yeah, I almost died. What’s your excuse?”
You thought maybe he’d roll his eyes or go on some rant about why he shouldn’t even bother being here as he storms out, but you were pleasantly surprised by the smirk that popped up on his face.
“How long was I out for?” you asked, trying to move the conversation along before you got caught up in your staring again. It was a bit of a habit of yours.
“Few days,” he said, moving to sit in the chair pulled up next to your bed. “Doctor said that was normal though, nothing to worry about.”
“Were you?”
“Huh?”
“Worried about it,” you clarified.
“Tch.” There was that eye roll you were so used to. “Don’t get cocky just cause we were forced to spend a few hours together.”
You smiled but didn’t press it any further.
“Thanks, by the way.”
“It was All Might that got us out,” he told you. “I never did get the stupid door open.”
“Yeah but you made sure I stayed awake as long as possible,” you pointed out, “and tried to keep me warm when I was freezing to death. If it weren’t for you I would’ve died before anyone got to me.”
“Whatever,” he dismissed, looking away from you.
“Hey,” you said, trying to catch contact with his eyes, “you saved my life, Bakugo. You were a great hero that day.”
He said nothing, but you knew your words didn’t go unappreciated. For someone who wanted so badly to be the number one hero, he sure did have an issue with accepting praise from his peers. 
Your gaze flickered down to something folded up in his hand.
“What’s that?”
His eyes landed on your face before following your stare to the piece of paper he’d brought with him. He’d forgotten all about it when he walked in and saw you sitting up in bed.
“Don’t worry about it,” he told you, moving to stuff it in the pocket of his jacket.
“The nurse mentioned you were writing stuff down when you were here, is that it?” He froze. So she’d ratted him out, huh? “What’s it say?”
Bakugo sighed.
“I figured the chances of us ending up trapped in a room we can’t get out of by some bastard villains are a nonzero number so… I figured I better think up some questions I can ask you when you end up trying to die on me again.”
Your eyes softened as you looked at him trying to act casually, as if he hadn’t just admitted something really sweet to you. 
“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” he snapped, shoving the paper in his pocket and standing up. “I was bored, that’s all. Now that you’re awake I’ll see you at school. You’re better company when you can’t talk.”
“Bakugo,” you said as he made his exit. He stopped in his tracks but didn’t look at you. “Maybe next time we can switch things up and you can be the one who almost dies.”
“Don’t count on it,” he replied, leaving your room and disappearing from your sight.
Try as he might to act all big and tough and emotionless, you could still hear the smirk on his face when he spoke.
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ourownsideimagines · 4 years
Text
Ignorance is No Longer Bliss (Aziraphale x Nephilim!Reader)
Characters: Aziraphale, Nephilim!Reader, Crowley, Hastur and Gabriel (briefly).
Requested: yes
Requested by: @crowley-is-a-danger-noodle
Point of View: Third Person
Summary: (Name)’s being followed - and then a mysterious man approaches her, and everything changes. Forever.
Warnings: Stalking. Some angst, but mostly fluff.
Words: 2768
A/N: I am SO sorry. It’s been like 5 months since I posted a story. Also, mostly unedited.
---
Moonlight.
(Name) could see the figure of a man in the moonlight that spilled from between their curtains. (Name) was stiff, trying not to breathe too deeply, and trying not to alert the man of their consciousness.
He wasn’t moving. All he did was stand there. He had no real defining features, from what they could tell in the dark. There was a strange, massive blob on the top of his head, and he smelled of cigarette smoke. A part of them wanted to scream. A part of them almost did, when he opened his mouth and spoke - his words made no sense, and they suddenly got the feeling that someone, or something else, was looming over their other shoulder.
Then, they were waking up. Sunlight bathed the room in a golden glow, from open curtains (name) was sure they had closed the night before. (Name) tried to brush off what they had seen the night before. They told themself it was a dream, but deep down they knew it was something more.
(Name) couldn’t remember having fallen asleep last night.
In spite of their worry, (name) got ready for the day and headed out. They were low on almost everything in the kitchen, and would need to at least get water, and snacks. The shop wasn’t a very far walk, so they decided to skip the bus in favor of enjoying the warm weather. This time of year, it was rarely ever warm.
But even at the shop they didn’t feel very safe. (Name) would glance over their shoulder, and the isle would be empty. Or someone would be rounding the corner, whisking themself away. While getting themself some coffee grounds, they had met the eyes of a man, but once they looked away they could hardly remember what he looked like.
Had he had purple eyes?
No. No, that was ridiculous.
Yet, they couldn’t get the thought out of their head. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. And it became even clearer when another man, dressed in all black with the exception of a silver scarf around his neck approached them. He tilted his sunglasses down, allowing them to see the yellow snake-slit eyes behind them. (Name) dropped their shopping on the ground, and almost backed away from him.
“I need you to listen to me.” He spoke softly. “There’s two men following you, probably more. The fellow in the grey coat, and the short bald one.” (Name) didn’t look behind them, but they could picture the two in her mind. They had been following (name) around, now that they were really thinking about it. The man with the purple eyes and the grey coat. And his friend. It was all coming together in their head.
“And there are two more, very dangerous men, waiting for you at your flat.”
The man from the dream. (Name) was itching to run.
“I can help you,” He spoke sincerely. “My friend and I have been trying to contact you for months now.”
“Who the hell are you?” They demanded.
“My name,” The man paused, and glanced over their shoulder. “You can, uh. You can call me Anthony.”
“That sounds fake. You don’t look like an Anthony.” (Name) frowned.
“Well, if I said my other name, we’d be in more than a little bit of trouble.” Anthony grumbled, then sighed. “I really do want to help you. You just need to trust me.”
“I don’t even know you.” (Name) said. “How do I know you don’t have bad intentions as well?”
“You don’t.” He said. “But I’m just the first one to approach you. And I’ll probably be the only one to offer you help without trying to kill you first.”
“You’re not making this situation any better.” (Name)’s voice was shaking. They had to get away.
“Yeah, that’s never been my strong suit.” Anthony muttered, more to himself than to (name).
“Look, just, leave me alone.” They tried to walk past him, but he stopped them.
“How old are you?” He asked.
“Excuse me?” They scoffed.
“Your age. How old?” He repeated, treating them like a child. (Name) jerked their arm away from him.
“That’s none of your-” They started, only for him to cut them off.
“Thirty eight?” He guessed, which made their lips seal tightly. He was right. “You don’t look a day over twenty-three.” (Name)’s heart began to race. Even now, when they couldn’t see the men trailing them, they could feel their eyes burning into their back.
“What do you want from me?” They all but moaned in misery.
“I want to keep you safe.” Anthony insisted. “And we can only stand here for so much longer before they realise who I am.”
“I just want this to be over with.” They said.
“I’m afraid it’s only just begun.” He glanced behind him and frowned deeply. “C’mon, follow me.”
Anthony had an old, but fast car. (Name) was holding on for dear life as he spread through the streets. Buildings rushed by, people came so close to getting hit, and yet, (name) knew that they were safe in this car. And when it came to a stop, they found that their breathing was easier than they’d thought it would be.
Anthony helped them out of the car.
“Crowley.” He said.
“Excuse me.”
“You said Anthony sounded fake. You’re right. My name is Crowley.”
“Crowley…” They repeated. It shouldn’t have sounded more realistic, but it did. Crowley suited him a whole lot better than Anthony.
“Come on, we better get inside.” Crowley led them to the corner bookshop - they had no idea where they were, but the crowded streets and sidewalks made them think they were far from where they had started.
The bookshop was messy, but it seemed methodical. Like whoever had made the mess had done so with intent. All the piles were neat, no books were bent or splayed open. Stacks piled the walls, and (name) felt a bit more at ease in the homey territory.
“Crowley, you’re back already?” A voice called from the back - another man, from what (name) could tell. After a minute, a plump man dressed in a nice, brown suit with a beige coat appeared. He had soft features, including the shock of blond hair on his head, and kind blue eyes. “How did the meeting go-” He stopped in his tracks when he saw them. “Oh,” His eyes widened. “Crowley-”
“Didn’t exactly go as planned, Angel.” Crowley sighed. “Those pricks from above were following them.”
“Oh, dear.” The man rubbed his hands together. “I do hope my friend here didn’t scare you, my dear.”
“I was already scared,” (Name) said, their voice surprisingly steady. “I just want to know what the hell is going on. Who are those men? What do they want with me? Who the hell are you people?”
“I’ll make the tea.” Crowley grumbled before going into the back room.
“Follow me, please.” The blond man said before following after. (Name) sighed, but did as they were told. When they entered the back room, the first thing they noticed that Crowley had a tea set, with tea already prepared, waiting for them. The blond man gestured to one of his plush seats, which (name) collapsed into.
“Here,” Crowley passed them a tea cup, which they took with a short thanks. Crowley handed another to Aziraphale, and took the last one for himself. (Name) took a slow sip, surprised to find it exactly how they liked it.
“So, my dear,” The blond man started. “I feel I should introduce myself. I am Aziraphale,” He said. (Name) nodded, but it was like words were stuck to their tongue. “You must be very confused right now-”
“Angel,” Crowley interrupted. “Beating around the bush isn’t going to help us.” (Name) took another, nervous sip of their tea.
“You’re right,” Aziraphale sighed. He turned back to (name). “My dear, do you believe in Heaven?”
“I-” They stopped. Their mother had been rather religious when growing up, but (name) had never found themself to be a true believer. “Not really?”
“Do you know what a Nephilim is?” Crowley piped in next.
“A what?”
“A Nephilim.” Aziraphale repeated. “The offspring of a human and an Angel.”
“Oh,” They said. “That’s, uh… Nice?” (Name) took another long sip of their tea.
“Not really.” Crowley said bluntly. “Angels don’t like Nephlims, they think they’re disgraceful. Demons want to use them against Heaven.”
“You’re talking like this is all real - that’s ridiculous!”
“Not really,” Crowley set his tea cup down in spite of the fact that he hadn’t really had any. “What do you know about your father?”
“I don’t have one. He left before I was born.” (Name) brought the cup to rest in their lap. “I really don’t see how any of this is going to explain what the hell is going on-” they stopped when Crowley snapped. The cup became heavier in their hands, and they looked down to see that the tea had been refilled. They looked back up in shock.
“Crowley-” Aziraphal began, but Crowley brushed him off.
“Think about it,” Crowley started. “Have you ever done anything in your life that you couldn’t explain?” The nervousness was coming back. They could feel their hands shaking. “Ever heard voices, but you didn’t know where they were coming from?” They took in a deep breath, sure that in a moment they could calm themself. They just needed Crowley to stop talking. “What about your mother?” That broke it - the memories of their mother, lying in bed, on the verge of death.
She should have died. (Name) prayed every night that she wouldn’t. They went to the hospital, and they made sure their mother was comfortable. They had prayed. And they had wished. And they had crossed their fingers, and cursed the world - and their mom had survived.
The tea cup fell to the floor, staining the carpet as (name) rushed out of the back room, but not out of the shop. Their heart was beating so fast, they expected it to come crashing out of their chest. Hot tears rolled down their cheeks, and they slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle their sobbing.
It was a minute before Aziraphale came to see how they were doing. He looked rather nervous. As he approached them, (name) tried not to flinch away. He offered them a handkerchief, which they took gratefully. Once they had calmed themself enough, (name) took in a deep gasp of air, and spoke.
“What are you?” They asked. “Are you a-” They stopped themself. They weren’t sure. “Are you a demon?”
“Oh, heaven’s no!” Aziraphale said. “I’m actually, quite the opposite.”
“You’re an angel?” Aziraphale gave a short nod. “And Crowley is… He’s an angel too?”
“Ah, no, he would be a demon, actually.”
“This is insane.” (Name) said. “This is fucking insane.”
“I feel I must apologize for my friend’s behavior. He’s not exactly… subtle.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” They glanced towards the back room, but could not see nor hear the demon. “So, uh… What am I then? Am I a… what did you call it?”
“Nephilim.” Aziraphale confirmed. “I’m afraid so, yes.”
“So that’s why those men were in my house last night? And why those other men were following me at the shop?”
“Yes,” Aziraphale nodded. “You see, Crowley and I… Well, a couple of years ago we helped stop Armageddon-”
“You two stopped the literal end of the world?”
“Yes,” Aziraphale nodded again. “We deviated from Heaven and Hell. And when we got word about you, we… Well, we felt a need to help.”
“Why?”
“Because Heaven would kill you otherwise, and Hell would use you as a weapon.” Crowley had suddenly appeared from the back room, making (name) jump in shock.
“He’s quite right.” Aziraphale sighed. (Name) watched him frown - they didn’t like when he frowned. It didn’t suit him.
“Okay… Well, what do we do now?”
That was how (name) ended up where they were now. A cozy cottage far from the cities, and quiet, and safe. With their favorite angel and hard-headed demon.
They were currently making dinner when they heard the front door open and close.
“Crowley?” They called out.
“No, my dear, it’s me.” Aziraphale replied, and appeared a few moments later. He had taken off his coat, leaving him in just the brown suit. (Name) had thought it a bit silly that their roommates always wore the same clothes, but never said anything. It just meant more closet space for them. “What are you making? It smells divine.”
“I’m making chicken and biscuits. My mum used to make it all the time when I was young, and I found the recipe in one of the cookbooks she gave me.” (Name) set aside the spoon they were using to stir the gravy, and turned to face Aziraphale. “Close up early today, then?”
“Yes - it was a rather slow day, and those who came in seemed to get the hint fairly quickly.”
“Have you ever thought of stocking up on books you’re actually willing to part with?”
“I’ve tried, but my dear, books are very easy to get attached to. I once purchased a bible that was simply falling apart at the seams, thinking ai may be able to sell it to someone else, but it’s um… it’s still sitting in the back room. I refurbished it.”
“Silly angel,” (Name) laughed. “You could just… miracle away the attention. Couldn’t you?”
“Heaven and Hell are only so tolerant of mine and Crowley’s miracles. Gabriel would have our heads on spikes if he thought he could actually get rid of us.”
“You could just put all your books in the house… make a basement library or something.” (Name) turned their attention back to the stove.
“That… isn’t such a bad idea.”
“I’ve got a few of those as well, if you need them.” (Name) moved back to the gravy as it began to bubble, and turned down the heat.
“Crowley has enough of them. What is he doing today anyway?” Aziraphale came to stand beside the,, watching as they continued preparing the food.
“Not sure. Said he was gonna be out for a good part of the day. Didn’t say if he was gonna be home for supper.” They said. “Pass me the glass pan.” Aziraphale grabbed the pan, which had the uncooked biscuits, and handed it to (name), who set it on the counter.
“Then it may just be us?”
“Seems that way, yeah.” (Name) poured the gravy over the uncooked biscuits, and then moved to set the pan in the oven. “Alright, we have about twenty minutes until this is finished. Want to read a book?” (Name) walked over to the other end of the counter, where they had set their copy of Dorothy Must Die by Danielle Paige.
“That sounds delightful.” Aziraphale snapped, and an older, more weathered book appeared in his hand. (Name) walked to the living room, their angelic friend following close after. They sat down on the plush couch Crowley had conjured up when they’d first moved in, and Aziraphale sat beside them.
This had become a habit of theirs - (name) would have their book, Aziraphale would have his, and they would sit together and read. They enjoyed the quiet, and the company. Even Crowley would sometimes curl up with them, in his snake form, and take a nap.
(Name) leaned into Aziraphale, getting comfortable, and let out a hum of contentment as Aziraphale put an arm around their shoulders, using his other hand to hold the book open as he read.
One thing (name) had noticed during these readings of theirs, was the way that Aziraphale sometimes muttered what he was reading under his breath. It had been a bit distracting at first, but (name) had grown to find it adorable. In fact, they thought a lot of things about the angel were adorable - breathtaking, even.
They found themself dozing in spite of the circumstances, their book long forgotten in their lap, and comfortably snuggled into the Angel’s side, legs tucked up beside them on the couch. They could stay like this forever, they thought to themself.
And when Aziraphale noticed that they had fallen asleep against him, he smiled. Lifting up one hand, he snapped, pulling downward a miracle from the heavens, so that the food would not go wasted. It was packed away for another time, because as much as the Angel loved food, he loved the time spent with the dear Nephilim a little bit more.
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thenamesseven · 4 years
Text
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Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst
A/N: FINALLY! I’m so so sorry for making you all wait so much for an update. Truth was school is taking up most of my free time with homework and by the time I get some free time I’m too tired to do anything. I felt a bit desmotivated about writing but I think I’m back again! Thanks for being patience and I’ll try to update sooner, like I used to do before. Sorry again! Enjoy the chapter ^^
When Park Jinyoung called his employees into his office it was extremely obvious something was very very wrong. Being called by the boss to discuss private manners wasn’t something that brought good news, in fact, it was always related with somebody being fired or somebody getting yelled at for doing something wrong.
Unfortunately, even when they thought they would never go through something like that, the day when Jackson and Jaebum were called by their boss came and none of them knew what could possibly be wrong. Since they had spent the whole afternoon trying to come up with a plan to find you and bring you back home with them, none of them had checked out their social media and realize what was truly going on.
Sitting on some stiff yet pretty uncomfortable chairs, the both of them waited patiently until Park Jinyoung spoke, he only looked at them quietly, trying to think of a way to explain the big problem without getting insanely mad at them.
“What’s this”
Jackson and Jaebum jolted slightly scared when the stack of paper JYP had been holding, landed on the desk situated in front of them pretty hard, hard enough to send some sheets away before one of the boys could read whatever was written on them. By the way they looked some of them seemed to be magazine articles, the ones online pages post and the others were things posted in social media, specially Twitter and Tumblr. None of them dared to reach out and take one of the papers to read them though, whatever was going on was bad enough to have Park Jinyoung fuming in front of them when they were more or less, the favorite group of the company.
But by the looks of it, they have fucked up big time.
Since none of the guys seemed eager to reply to the easy question, JYP sighed, attempting to get some answers once again “I’m going to ask again and this time I expect a reasonable answer” He looked at both of them, leaning back against his chair while he pinched the bridge of his nose. Jackson and Jaebum knew him well enough to know that whatever the problem was, it was stressing him out a lot and that it would only made the issue even worse. “What’s the meaning of this?”
It was Jaebum the one that caught the sheet of paper Park Jinyoung tossed away. With insecure hands, he cleared out his throat and held it far enough for Jackson to read it with him. His eyes scanned the paper nervously, not really focusing on the paragraphs below but on the colorful details that could instantly give him some clues about what was truly happening. The first thing he noticed was the name of one of those gossiping magazines that are always following idols around, they had people hidden with cameras everywhere, ready to snap the perfect picture and manage to ruin their lives and careers by revealing rumours or secrets that shouldn’t have been revealed. 
His stomach started turning into tiny notes that made him feel incredibly horrible. Jackson and him were hiding an incredibly big secret after all and it definitely wouldn’t be good if it had been leaked out of nowhere, without them having enough time to prepare for it. It really wasn’t a good time for that kind of drama, specially right after you were kind of missing.
Jackson, who was already fearing the text underneath the name of the magazine, had only managed to read the first sentence before his heart started beating so hard and loudly that he could feel his brain pulsing in synch with it.
The article said:
An anonymous message that has been recently received finally gave some meaning to the pictures we posted earlier! Jackson Wang, mostly known for being a successful rapper and part of the boy band GOT7, was spotted exiting his apartment earlier in an agitated way. The reporter that was there clearly saw how he was crying but also shaking with frustration, impotence for some unknown reasons that now are not so unknown.
Thanks to our anonymous reader we know that apparently Jackson and Jaebum are sharing that same apartment with an old friend who surprisingly is a female. Her name is (Y/N Y/LN) and luckily, our best researcher managed to find her instagram. We won’t post the username here but down there you can see a picture, kind of pretty isn’t she? Who wouldn’t want to date her?
Now get ready my dear ahgases because apparently and trusting the information this anonymous reader passed us, Jackson and Jaebum are in an open relationship with this female. Yeah! The three of them are dating, living together and doing all the heated things you all describe in your fanfics behind doors. 
Jackson was seen crying after-
Jaebum crumpled the paper in his hands, making it a small ball before tossing it away. Jackson kept his eyes down on the floor one of his knees had started bouncing nervously, as a reflex of his body to get rid of some stress, shaking his head dissapointed while his fingers fidgeted with the hem of the shirt he was wearing. Honestly, he wasn’t thinking about the consequences this scandal could have for Jaebum and him, Jackson couldn’t help but think about how stressed you were probably feeling after your face, name and some other intimate things had been exposed to the public so suddenly and without any consent.
“What the fuck is this bullshit?” Jaebum suddenly spoke out, frowning as he looked at JYP straight in his eyes. Jackson, who hadn’t been expecting that reaction, turned his head towards his direction slightly surprised.
“J-Jaebum” Jackson slightly worried his language would only make things worse, attempted to warn him, to shut him up but that didn’t stop his boyfriend
“You better start explaining and pray…Fucking pray that there is an explanation that won’t led to the two of you being fired and kicked out from GOT7” Their boss sat back down onto his chair, breathing heavily as he stared at both males waiting for one of them to start explaining.
“Do you really think I’m dating him?” Jaebum pointed at Jackson with his thumb,the latter only raised one of his eyebrows to glance at him. If Jaebum wanted to die and try to save all of their asses, he better start playing his game too.
“Dude, am I that ugly?” Jackson scoffed leaning back against his chair, rolling his eyes
“This is not something that we should laugh about. This freaking article is appearing in every social media, even in some news channels” The two boys quietly gulped at that, you had seen it for sure then and they didn’t even want to think how their families were probably feeling about this scandal.
“I’m sorry but I really do not understand why the company hasn’t deny this rumour yet” Jackson told him, erasing the small smile from his lips to look as serious as he could “Not only are they damaging our image but they’re also putting in danger somebody who we consider our little sister and not a fuck toy that we could share”
Jaebum nodded to Jackson’s words, poker face on as he stared at his boss. He looked really serious and slightly angry on the outside but inside? He was about to cry and start panicking, Jaebum had never been so scared before “(Y/N) has been our friend for years, she’s been living with us for so long too…Don’t you think that if we really had a relationship with her it would have been leaked by now?”
“With the amount of people that knows us? Probably” Jackson added as if the question had been directed to him “Sir, we never lied to you, we never cause any major problems like this one. Why would we do something like this? Ruin our careers, our success for a girl? No thanks”
“Exactly” The words hurt Jackson, he knew you didn’t deserve to be spoken about like that but if it worked, it would probably safe their careers and your reputation, if that was still possible.
“Then why the hell were you crying Jackson? What the hell happened?” He asked, still not completely believing the words that were coming out of their mouths.
“We had a really strong argument in which we said some pretty nasty things to each other” Jackson explained, he wasn’t really lying, things have been rough for the three of them. The male was just omitting some details that would definitely get them in trouble “It got to the point where she left, only leaving a note behind saying goodbye”
The room stayed in silent, Jackson’s broken tone echoing through the room as silence took over it. Park Jinyoung sighed, leaning back against the chair once again as he stared to the ceiling, attempting to go through the entire situation in his mind. He didn’t believe the guys completely but he didn’t have the clues to accuse them of lying either.
If the rumour stayed going through people’s social media the situation would only kept getting worse and worse and it would simply be impossible to deny the news at some point, ruining the reputation of some of the best idols the company had along with the one of an innocent girl.
Sighing, Park Jinyoung, CEO of JYP Entertainment, stood up and looked down at both of them “Get out of here, let me try and sort this out” 
-○-
Not too far away from that room, Jinyoung sat by himself in the lobby where they usually hang out during their little breaks in their practice sessions. Mark, Youngjae, Yugyeom and Bambam were there too, having some coffee as they talked about Jackson and Jaebum. Since they whole group knew about their relationship, the guys couldn’t help but be slightly worried about them what honestly surprised Jinyoung. Weren’t they worried about their own future? He didn’t mean to be rude but had they stopped to think what would happen to them if the group disappeared? Honestly, Jinyoung hasn’t fought so much for his dream to be ruined like this. You could say that was the reason he hasn’t said anything about yet, or maybe it was because he knew exactly what was going since he had been the one who sent those pictures to the online magazine. 
Leaning back against his chair, with his legs crossed, he kept messing around with his phone, checking out some social media to pass the time when he stumbled onto a couple of tweets that caught his attention. At first, Jinyoung just wanted to read them because of the drama but then when he realized what the issue was, his blood turned cold and his heart stopped beating for a second. 
“We all want that bitch out of our lives, why would she try to get involved with our two oppas?”
“Sluts are meant to be ashamed, you can’t let them do whatever they want”
Those were the beginnings of a trail that was full of original threats and insults that you wouldn’t even know existed. Jinyoung knew immediately who they were talking about, after all this was the effect he had expected after the anonymous message he sent to that online magazine started spreading through the internet. Messages like this will be the ones to make Jackson and Jaebum realize how much their fame could hurt you if anything of your relationship went wrong.
What he didn’t expect was the replies underneath where some people were planning to go and look for you, something that was totally crazy and unthinkable for Jinyoung. Were there fans who would go to that extent for two guys that would never know they existed? Even though something in him knew his plan was going the wrong way and that the backlash you were getting was way worse than he had expected, Jinyoung kept reading, eyes widening when he read the things they were planning to do to you if they find you.
Stumbling, the male stood up abruptly almost spilling his hot coffee all over the table. The guys looked at him, noticing how scared and tense their friend was but still none of them asked any questions and just waited for him to explain what was going on. However Jinyoung knew you didn’t have much time and that explaining everything would only make his chances of finding you smaller. 
“Where are you going?” Yugyeom finally asked, too curious to hold the question back.
Jinyoung only glanced at his direction, face as pale as a ghost, he grabbed his hoodie from the chair and shook his hair, quietly telling them he didn’t have the time for explanations. “It’s (Y/N)” He simply said, pushing his phone out of his pockets to dial your number “Tell Jackson or Jaebum to call me as soon as they get out”
After saying that Jinyoung simply exited the break room, phone glued to his ear as he desperately prayed that you would answer the phone.
Nobody picked it up though and he could just hope that it wasn’t too late for you.
-○-
You didn’t know how much time had passed since you were dragged back into the alley by this unknown girls, all you knew was the pain in your body indicated something was probably broken after all the kicks and punches they threw. You were confused to say the least, since they seemed to know about your relationship with Jackson and Jaebum but none of the guys had called you to warn you about the situation, honestly, you would have never thought that if the fans ever found out about your relationship some of them would react the way these girls did.
They had walked after getting tired, only saying that a bitch like you would learn her lesson after the pain they inflicted on you. Your eyes were dry, there were no tears left to cry at this point and your throat was sore after all the begging you did. Your eyes were staring to get swollen, your vision was becoming incredibly blurred and unfortunately, your body was too weak to move an inch.
You would have called the police or even an ambulance if your phone hadn’t been stepped on and broken in your face, you could simply lay there on the floor praying to whatever God was up there that somebody would find you.
It was scary yet crazy the things some fans could do for their idols. You didn’t blame your guys though, this wasn’t their fault even though it was their fans were the ones that did it. In fact, you found yourself wishing to be with them, receiving all the love and affection they always gave you when you weren’t feeling well….If only you hadn’t ran away.
“(Y/N)!?” 
You tried opening your eyes more, move your head towards the direction of the voice in order to see if you had hit your head so bad that you were now starting to have delusions, it was impossible Jinyoung was in the same alley as you, the guys were probably preparing for their new comeback.
“(Y/N)!?” When his voice sounded closer, you unconsciously frowned. What was he doing here? How did he find you? “Oh my God, what did they do to you?”
Looking down at you made Jinyoung feel like the worst person alive, you were drifting in and out of consciousness probably too weak to open your eyes and look at him. With shaky hands, he kneeled down besides you and rested your bleeding head on his knees not even caring about staining his new sweatpants. You groaned in pain, complaining about the movements as he gently brushed some of your hair out of your forehead, looking around, not really knowing what to do.
He never planned this to happen, the only thing he had wanted to do was scare Jackson and Jaebum to death, separate you from them so when the secret came out you would be far enough to not get hurt like this. You didn’t deserve this, what happened to you was extremely unfair and totally his fault.
“I’m going to get you some help” Jinyoung whispered, trying to dialed an ambulance but his hands were shaking too much and his eyes were full of tears “We’re going to the hospital”
“Where are they?” Jinyoung didn’t need to ask to know who you were asking for, it was normal that in this kind of situation you would want to see Jackson and Jaebum.
“They are okay, JYP needed to talk with them” Jinyoung replied, managing to call an ambulance “You’ll be okay (Y/N), just don’t fall asleep on me alright? You need to stay awake”
Using the last bit of strength you had, you nodded to his words, keeping your blurry vision on his face as he asked for an ambulance to come as fast as they could but tiredness was calling for you, the pain was overwhelming and deep down you knew that as soon as you closed your eyes everything would be gone. Who knows? Maybe all of this was part of a twisted nightmare, those that were too real for your own good. 
“Please come as fast as you can, she’s losing consciousness again” Jinyoung pleaded, gently slapping your cheek with his hand to keep you awake.
“(Y/N)?”
You weren’t opening your eyes anymore, you weren’t even moving your head to him when he spoke.
“(Y/N)!? Oh god, (Y/N)?” He asked again
But nobody answered this time.
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aisling-beatha · 5 years
Text
A lot about living [SFW]
A standalone story #1
Part 1 Part 2
The Walking Dead | Daryl Dixon X Reader
Warning: Swearing
“Daryl?”
“Mhm…”
You were lying on Daryl’s bare chest, absentmindedly drawing circles on his skin. His arms tightly wrapped around you, legs tangled with yours, your bodies partly covered by the sheet. Daryl’s eyes closed as he was breathing steadily.
“If I asked you something, would you do that for me?” you whispered, not hoping for an answer as Daryl was already dozing off.
“Wha’ kind of of the question is that?” he mumbled, his voice sending vibrations through his chest. 
“Just answer,” you shrugged, lifting your head from his chest, searching for his eyes.
Daryl unwrapped his arms reluctantly, opening his eyes and watching you move away. 
You laid on your side, watching Daryl’s chest rise slowly with every breathe. His hands were now laying on his stomach as he watched you sleepily.
“Will you promise me something?” you asked, biting your lower lip.
Daryl turned on his side, taking in your worried expression. He looked so calm and relaxed, for the first time in months, and you felt wrong for ruining the moment. But ever since the two of you got together, your mind was trouble. Losing people in the world like that wasn’t anything unnatural. But it still hurt every time. And the thing was, you could never be ready. You couldn’t possibly be prepared to lose another person. It used to be easier when you were alone.
Now, it seemed like every day could be your last. And you knew, sooner or later your day would come.
Daryl looked at you closely, propping himself on the elbow, and nodded.
“Promise me that if - if I…” you swallowed, looking away, trying to get yourself together. “Promise that if I get bit, you wouldn’t be the one to put me down.”
For some reason, you knew that you’d be the one to go down first. You weren’t a hunter, like Daryl, you weren’t a great soldier like Rick was. Sure, you were doing your best, but sooner or later, that wouldn’t be enough. The death, though, wasn’t the hardest part. You die, and that’s it. Putting someone down was worse. It was unfair. You saw what it did to people. You saw what it did to Carl back at the prison, you saw, what it did to Michonne or Rick. There was no coming back from that. Once you’ve done it, it will be eating you alive forever. Especially if that was someone you loved. 
You were weaker, younger, not fast enough, not strong enough. And that made you an easy target for the world. You knew you’d go down first, and the last thing you wanted was Daryl putting you down.
“What?” Daryl’s eyes widened in shock as all the sleepiness left his body. “Ya bit?!”
You shook your head, placing a hand on Daryl’s chest to calm him down, still not looking at him. “No…”
“Then why the fuck would ya even say that?” Daryl didn’t give you time to finish, cupping your face and searching for your eyes as if trying to get instant answers. 
“Daryl…” you sighed, placing your hand over his. “You know, sooner or later, what we are doing right now won’t be enough. You know that, right? We can’t pretend that things won’t change. They will. And people are going to die.”
Daryl let go of you, still listening to your speaking and chewing on his lower lip, as if trying to figure something out. 
“I’m so scared,” you admitted, finally meeting his gaze. “I don’t wanna die and, hell, I trust you to keep me safe, I do… But if - if something happens, promise, It won’t be you.”
Daryl remained silent while you felt like crying. 
“Daryl, promise… Just, please” you pleaded, shifting closer and taking his hand in yours. “If that happens, you just keep going. Otherwise, it’ll end you.”
The silence between the two of you seemed to last forever.
You were lost in your thoughts again when you felt Daryl squeezing your hand. He then quietly nodded, understanding.
“I promise.”
***
The road home passed in silence. No one said a word. On the radio, they reported about two dead from another group. Two men of Alexandria. While, exhausted, covered in blood and mud, your people were going home.
You were lagging at the end of the group, not realizing what was happening around. The pain pulsed somewhere in the head but you couldn’t really tell, whether it was from stress or anything else.
You clutched the shirt, not daring to look down. The fabric of the T-shirt that you’d put on under your shirt was wet. The rising wind chilled the skin and didn’t give any rest. No matter how hard you tried.
When you arrived in the community, you were still not looking in front of you. The thud of the closing gate brought you back to reality. Before anyone could see, you ran. Only when you came home did you finally allow yourself to exhale. The throbbing pain in your side was getting worse.
There was nobody at home and you quickly locked yourself in the bathroom on the second floor. You leaned on the sink, catching your breath and trying to gather your thoughts, but your heart was about to burst in your chest.  It seemed that your whole body was on fire, and the blood was rustling somewhere in your ears. 
You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you still didn’t dare to look in the mirror. You were on the edge. Your brain randomly rushed from one thought to another, trying to find a solution, at least something that could prove that it was only a nightmare. It just couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t you. You shook your head, hoping to wake up somewhere in your bed, but nothing happened, and only then did you finally raise your eyes.
Your hands were trembling. You slowly began to unfasten the buttons of your shirt. Your fingers were stiff. Eventually, the fabric was on the floor. You didn’t have to look at it the second time, the traces of teeth were still imprinted in your memory. Your black T-shirt was covered with dust from the road and only your right side was dark with blood.
Your head was dizzy. And you felt like something was choking you. The sudden lack of air made you hyperventilate. You recoiled in horror from the sink, opening and closing your mouth, trying to catch the air. Panic instantly gripped you. Tears were streaming down your face as you covered your mouth, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your whole body was shaking with your muffled cries and you couldn’t stop it. 
It felt like it was already ending. You felt like dying. And more than ever you wanted to scream until you’d lose your voice. If that was how your life was supposed to end, if that was the end, you regretted so many things. And more than ever before you wanted Daryl to be here. You wanted him to hold you as you’d go weaker, apologizing over and over again. You regretted fighting with him, and you were so damn ashamed of never trying to make things better. 
Before you could stop yourself from doing it, you grabbed your T-shirt, raising it.
***
Carol ran into the bathroom. She was in the kitchen when she heard your screaming. You didn’t notice her when you came home, rushing upstairs. Carol simply didn’t follow. Your scream had nearly scared her to death. Her heart almost stopped when she saw you lying on the floor. She couldn’t tell if you were crying or laughing, you were covering your face with your hands. 
Carol’s gaze darted to the pile of clothes near the bathtub. Your upper body was practically naked as there was only a sports bra left on you. On top of the pile, there was your shirt, covered in blood.
“Y/N!" 
In a split second Carol was on her knees beside you, pushing your hands away from your face. Her worried gaze met your red misty eyes, as she made you sit up straight. That’s when she saw it. Your right side was bleeding.
"Look at me. Y/N, look at me! Are you bit?" 
You started coughing, trying to bring yourself together. And before you could stop her, Carol took your T-shirt, making pressure on your wound. She then took it away but only to wash away all the blood. And there it was. The ugly cut on your right side and parted stitches.
***
It took you almost an hour to finally calm down while you were sitting in the infirmary with Carol and Denise by your side.
"I’m sorry I scared the shit out of the both of you,” you whispered, feeling exhausted. Denise had just sutured your wound. The was no damn bite.
“You freaked out,” Denise shrugged, handing you a glass of water and two pills. “Here, take these, they’ll help." 
She then nodded to Carol, leaving the two of you. It’s only when you were leaving the infirmary, she turned around, calling your name. 
"You’d better stay away from anything related to runs or fighting. And you’d better promise me you won’t do anything stupid again.”
You were walking down the streets of Alexandria, towards your house. Carol was by your side, watching you closely in case you were going to pass out. The blood loss was serious but you refused to stay in the infirmary. 
“So that was it?” she asked after some time. 
“Yeah,” you nodded. “That bastard couldn’t even bite me properly. Just ripped off the stitches.”
Carol chuckled softly but then her expression turned serious again.
“Rick should have never let you or Glenn go out there. You hadn’t properly healed yet, and that’s what happened. It was too dangerous. You simply got lucky, you know that.”
You remained silent but nodded. You understood it, more than clearly. That was your second chance in life.
“I don’t get it, though” Carol muttered when you finally made it inside your house.
“Don’t get what?” you wondered, leaning on the wall as the nagging pain ran through your side.
“How did Daryl let that happen.”
You froze. It had been a long time since Carol talked about the two of you for the last time. She no longer tried to bring up the subject. Things were different then.
Your heart missed a beat when you heard his name. Your recent near-death experience made you think about your relationship with the man.
It was in the morning the same day when the two of you faced each other for the first time in a while. There, in the kitchen of your house, you exchanged a few words about the upcoming mission and then, in just a few hours you had a close call. You could have died today. And understanding that those few words could have been your last made you regret not trying to reach out for Daryl sooner. You missed him. And probably, that was the right time for you to swallow your pride and talk. 
“He didn’t know” you muttered, suddenly feeling ashamed. “I - I didn’t tell anybody, so he couldn’t know it.”
Carol hummed, sending you a stern look, but didn’t say anything. 
“You think, I should tell him?”
***
You woke up in the middle of the night, shaking. Your heart was racing as you tried to catch your breath. At first, you couldn’t tell the reality apart from your nightmare. In your dream, you were running but your legs seemed to have turned into stone. Walkers were everywhere, clattering and grabbing your limbs with their rotten arms. You couldn’t move and you couldn’t scream as they were coming closer and closer, surrounding you, leaving no place. 
Sharp pain in your side helped you get yourself together. You needed to calm down. The memories of the day were flooding back again. 
As calmly as you only could, you went downstairs, hoping that a glass of cold water would help you. Each step was sending a flood of pain to your side, but you didn’t want to stay in the room.
You only left a few steps when you saw it. From the stairs, you could see the small living room, kitchen and dining table, which was placed in front of the window. The faint light allowed you to see the dark silhouette. You held your breath, afraid to make any movement. You immediately regretted that you didn’t carry your knife around anymore, as panic washed over you. But something about that silhouette made you stop. You slowly made your way towards the man sitting at the table, not believing what you saw. 
Daryl was sitting at the table, his shaggy hair covering his face. Even with a small amount of light coming from the window you could see a bottle in front of him. Daryl didn’t notice you as he grabbed it, taking a sip. 
From where you were standing, you couldn’t see his face, but the way his whole body was shaking made your eyes widen in shock. Daryl was crying. He made no sound as another silent cry left his mouth, though even from a distance you could hear his heavy breathing.
Your body went numb.
“Daryl?”
***
At that point, you couldn’t even remember the original reason that had started the fight. But somehow it just ended with both of you screaming at each other. 
“I’m sick of you running away! I want to kiss you when I want to, and not when there’s no one around. And I want to hug you when you come home from your run, and not when we’re alone in our room. In case you haven’t noticed, every single soul in the community knows what we are!”
It was an ordinary morning but then everything seemed to be against you. Carol left, leaving the two of you for good, but instead of talking you ended up in the fight. 
“What is your fucking problem?!" 
"There ain’t no problem!” Daryl yelled back at you, scowling. “Go to yer friends over there, ya sure as hell enjoy their company more!”
“For God’s sake, Daryl! Where did that come from?” you demanded, coming closer. “There ain’t no friends there.”
Daryl just huffed in annoyance, waving a finger in your face. “That’s cause ya ashamed of me, right? There ain’t no place for a fine woman like you with some filthy redneck. ’S cause they call ya like tha’, right?”
Daryl started to act differently after a few months of living in Alexandria. He would distance himself from you whenever it was possible. And you couldn’t understand why. He no longer would open up about his worries and insecurities. And that was frustrating. Until the problem revealed itself in that fight.
“What?!” you exclaimed. “You really think that? You’re the one who has to flinch every time I touch you!”
“Well, ya pretty happy to touch anyone else here! So why dontcha go ta Rick or yer buddy Heath? They sure as hell don’t seem broken to you” he spatted back, turning away from you, breathing heavily with anger.
You felt your eyes filling with tears. It hurt to hear Daryl saying that to your face. There was never a single reason for him to accuse you of cheating. You couldn’t do that to both of you. As well as you were sure of Daryl’s loyalty to you. You loved him more than anyone else but sometimes you simply couldn’t deal with him.
“That’s how little you think of me?” you asked bitterly, swallowing back your tears. “I’ve already proved to you that I love you. I did it many times. And I still can count on my hand all the times you told me that. And I’m not the one questioning your feelings right now.”
You shook your head, looking away and trying to calm down. Every time you let a shaky breath you just felt like bursting out. While Daryl still didn’t look at you. He was now standing further from you, chewing on his lower lip, lost in his thoughts.
“Daryl… It can’t keep going like that” you whispered not trusting your breaking voice.
“Nah” he rasped out.
You closed your eyes, feeling small. “I hate you doing this to us. And I hate that still, after all we’ve been through, you won’t believe me,” you exhaled, gathering all your will power not to cry. “I want us to keep on going but I can’t do this alone. I can’t, Daryl… Are we on the same page here? Are you with me?”
Daryl wasn’t moving, watching you with squinted eyes.
“That’s it, then? You want this over?”
You watched Daryl’s whole body tensing up at your words.  He stood there motionless for another minute. His eyes were going between you and his vest hanging on the chair. You waited, afraid he would end your relationship right here and now. Fear made its way to your heart, making it beat faster and faster until you felt its beating somewhere in your throat.
Suddenly, Daryl nodded his head, muttering something under his breath. He grabbed his vest, putting it on his way out of the room. His movements were jerky and fast as if he suddenly felt too uncomfortable being in the same room with you.
“Daryl Dixon!” you called after, making him stop. “If you go out of this room right now, you can never come back again, you hear that?” you yelled, no longer trying to stop yourself from crying.
You covered your mouth to muffle your sobs, watching the man’s back. You thought Daryl would turn around and go back to you. But he didn’t. 
Daryl walked out of your room, slamming the door behind him. The sound made you shudder, as you instinctively closed your eyes.
***
Daryl jerked away as if your voice could hit him. You caught him rubbing his face in an attempt to wipe away the tears. He instantly was on his feet, stumbling back.
“Daryl? What are you…” you started, coming closer but stopped as you saw Daryl dropping his head to his chest, the bottle still in his hand. 
You were standing in front of him, not daring to touch him, instead, trying to look into his eyes. Daryl didn’t look at you, he was still shaking violently. He seemed so small and vulnerable at the moment that you had all your instincts screaming at you to just wrap him in your arms and never leave his side.
“’M sorry” he suddenly whimpered, dropping his head even lower. “’M sorry…” his voice filled with raw emotions. 
Your heart broke at the sound of his voice. You’d never seen him looking so damaged, so broken. 
“Daryl, you gotta tell me what this is” you shook your head, bringing your hands to his face, making him look at you.
Daryl instantly moved away from your touch, looking even more ashamed of his reaction. 
“Carol… Carol told me,” he said after some time, his voice barely above the whisper. “Y/N… I-I thought… I thought yer…”
You moved before you could even process it, hugging Daryl.  He was taken aback by your impulse but instantly relaxed into your touch, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms still by his side.
“I know…” you whispered, fighting back your tears. 
You held Daryl closer to you, as he silently cried into your shoulder. The pain in your side became so unnoticeable that you instantly forgot why you were there in the first place.
Neither of you let go of the moment. You were stroking Daryl’s hair, feeling his warm body against yours. You’d missed him so damn much. And feeling him here like that was a blessing, a second chance you never deserved.
Finally, you moved, letting go of Daryl but only to take the bottle, he still had in his hand and put it back on the table. Daryl didn’t fight back, unclenching his fingers. 
“I can’t lose ya,” he said. “I couldn’t lose you then, I just… I  thought… I ain’t good with that shit. Never was” he mumbled, looking down again.
“Hey,” you cupped his cheek. “None of that, okay? Not now.”
You saw that now. What was slowly killing you all those months. You thought you could get over it, that you could live without him by your side. You thought that he had left because he could live without you. You were wrong. Daryl didn’t leave because he was better without you but because he couldn’t stand that he couldn’t protect you, couldn’t make you happier. And now, after Carol telling him about you, all his deepest fears came flooding back at him. And this time you weren’t there to reassure him, to prove him wrong.
“I love you, you know that, right?” you whispered, searching for his eyes.
Daryl nodded, inhaling slowly. More than anything right now he wanted to hold you close, to tell you all those things he should have said months ago. But before he could do it, you shook your head, smiling softly with that special smile of yours that always made his heart do funny things in his chest.
“We’ll talk, I promise. But not now.”
You turned around, walking back to the stairs.  But you stopped when Daryl didn’t follow you.
“I’m not running away,” you explained. “I’m still hurt, and you are too drunk. We’ll sort everything out, but we’ll do it tomorrow.”
Daryl nodded, still standing frozen in his place.
“Come back. I need you” you said, already going upstairs.
***
You were lying in your bed with a nightlight on when you heard the bed squeaking. You smiled sleepily, opening your eyes. Daryl was lying next to you, his eyes still red but he was quiet. You looked into his eyes, finding nothing but love and deep sorrow in them. Daryl was hurting too.
You turned off the light and scooted closer to him, mindful of your side, laying your head on his chest. And this time Daryl didn’t flinch. Instead, he hesitantly hugged you, pulling you closer. And for the first time in months, the other side of the bed wasn’t empty.
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The summertime of our lives, 5/6
Volume: 1.
Number of parts: 5/6.
Pairings: Ninetoo x Rose.
A/N: Written for @doctorroseprompts summer bingo. Five summer-themed words: Party, Lights, Ice-Cream, Fair, Music (BINGO!). Tagging @thebookster on her demand.
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” - William Shakespeare.
CHAPTER 5:
The Doctor woke up with a pounding headache and a sore body. He was lying flat on his stomach. His position was similar to those silhouettes you could see on crime scenes. He was very alive and very dehydrated, very hot and very unwell. If he was asked, he would say that all of his limbs had been cut off his torso, that they were scattered all around him and refusing to his brain’s orders. Brain? What brain? His head only contained a puddle of brain cells in the middle of a raging battlefield. His fingers scratched the hard surface he was currently embracing. Wood. Definitely wood. His face was crushed against a surface made of varnished wood. A table? No. It looked more like a ground. A ground that was moving. Like a boat rolling on the sea. A sudden rise of bile burnt his oesophagus and he struggled to compel all his limbs to move and pull his body up. He never realised how much you can tangle a body before he messed up with his limbs that weren’t quite obeying to him. It ended up with him crashing back down to the ground. His nausea was forgotten, replaced by the pain caused by the fall. He moaned, more of annoyance than of pain. What the hell was going on? He rolled on his back. The sun was stroking his skin. He was outside. He tried to focus on his surroundings despite the whole nightclub partying in his head. Last time he had felt this awful, he was drunk. The thought made him twitch. Drunk. That was it. He had drunk too much during the pool party and he was suffering from a terrible hangover. Drunk until the blackout What a stupid idea! Why hadn’t Rose stopped him? Had she been as drunk as him? No. She wouldn’t. Would she? She had come back to the TARDIS in a more than wasted condition numerous times when she was accompanying Jack to those parties on foreign planets. He should have gone with them instead of pretending he had better things to do. He was only worrying about her in the end. Where was she now? Was she worrying about him? They were both at that party. He remembered them both walking in the swimming pool hand in hand. They had gone to the bar, ordered soft drinks… He frowned. Soft drinks. No alcohol. They hadn’t wanted to get wasted. They had just wanted to have some fun before going back home to cuddle. What could have gone wrong? Forcing his brain to retrieve missing memories was increasing his headache. Even if he wanted to known where his Rose was, he had to focus on something simpler. A goal he could achieve in this condition. First, he had to find the strength to move and drink some water. Or he could just lay here and list all the types of pain he was in. It would be quite long. There were a lot of them. There were burns and even those burns could be categorised. Stomach burns because of the excess of alcohol, irritation of the throat because of the dehydration, his neck, face and legs were hurting. If he had been there for hours, he probably sunburnt. And then, there were his wrists. This kind of burns was unusual to him. It was nothing he had ever experienced in 900 years of life. It was burning and itching at the same time. The thrill of mystery snapped him out of the numbness induced by the alcohol he had drunk last night. He was certain to have drunk alcohol though he couldn’t remember it. He obliged his whole body to move and sat up. He stretched his neck with a grumble of pain. Glanced at his wrist. Knitted his brow. There was a bandage on both his wrists and a ribbon was fastened around his left arm. What had happened last night? He caught a corner of the plaster and pulled on it. He quickly got rid of the first bandage. His frowned expression turned into one of utter surprise. There, on his unusually red skin, a black ribbon was tattooed around his wrist. It was continuing on his other wrist. It was a fine piece of art but it clearly wasn’t his style. He was no man to get tattooed. He hadn’t done this willingly. And what could it mean? Staring at those lovely lines swirling on his wrists brought a daydreaming thought he had had a long time ago, when he was travelling with Rose. Of course, he wasn’t wearing this face when he had had the thought but the memory was still there. It was during a day on Chlopović, a town of the planet Pochlović that was known for its landscapes and gardens and parks. Many of them had love for theme and were the witnesses of numerous marriages. Or, as they called it, the fastening hands ceremony. And yes, one day, he had daydreamt of going through this ceremony with Rose. Back then, he would never have admitted it. Now… It wasn’t like he would refuse if there was a chance. He was against domestics but he wanted his forever with the woman he loved. Well, if he could find her. And who was he engaged to? Where the hell was he? What had freaking happened last night? “Spitz? Spitz, do you hear me?” The Doctor opened in eyes in response to the name he had been given to be acceptable on the civic field – another human norm he hated: you had to have a ‘normal’ name to be socially accepted, and just ‘The Doctor’ wasn’t an acceptable name – and was struck by the confusion. When had he lost it again? He blinked. How long had he been there? Someone called out for an ambulance. Or for a doctor. He was a doctor. He was the Doctor. But the words didn’t get past his lips. They said he was confused, badly dehydrated and his sunburnt were serious. Someone palpated his arm. There was a pinch and a sting. The sun was still high in the sky. He closed his eyes again. They carried him, placed him on a soft comfortable surface. It would have been perfect without the loud noise of a rotor, of a motor roaring somewhere above him. A helicopter. It was the first time he was traveling in helicopter. He thought. He wasn’t sure. Next time he woke up from this alcohol induced situation, he felt much better. His head wasn’t pounding anymore and his skin was fresh, as if a layer of cold ointment had been rubbed in. He recognised the place he was in immediately. A hospital. Damn. He couldn’t be in a hospital. They would… He sat up, took the needle of the drip off his hand, took the plier on his finger off. The machine beeped loudly. “Going somewhere?” He turned his head so violently that he winced at the pop he heard. He could easily have blocked a nerve or caused himself a neck stiff. That would be the last of his worries. He had to find Rose. She wasn’t with him in that room but the Detective Inspector Alec Hardy – or the man who saved his life hours ago – was. That was the Scottish accent that gave him away. “How did you find me?” He marked a pause. “Why were you looking for me?” “You were on the list of the persons present at the pool party two days ago.” Two days ago? Whatever he had drunk that night, it was strong enough to have made him forget a whole day in totality. A familiar feeling of adrenaline rushed through his veins. Danger. Mystery. Everything he loved. Hardy turned off the beeping monitor and dismissed the nurse who had just come in. “I was there with Rose.” “I know.” “Have you found her?” “Yes.” “How is she?” “Worried about you. I called to reassure her.” “What happened at that party?” “That’s the question I was gonna ask you.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. If Alec Hardy was seeking for answers from him, he would be disappointed. His brain had completely deleted this party from his memory. He didn’t even know where he was when he was found and brought here. “The party started at 8pm. Around 10pm, the station got calls informing us that it was going wrong. Drugs have been added to the recipe and have caused a whole mess. Fights, arguments, robberies and it goes on and on.” “I know nothing of this. I don’t even remember any of the party.” “The contrary would have surprising. You ingested quite a dose. So did Rose.” “But she’s fine.” “You both had the good sense of leaving before it became unmanageable. You’ve wandered in town, met with other people who fled from the party. We have you on CCTV recordings until 5am. After that, nothing anymore. You were missing. Like dozens of people. Their talk came to an end with the brutal opening of the door and the storming in of a blonde tornado who wrapped the Doctor into a tight and painful embrace. Rose. He hugged her back, let her examine him and hug him again while fully aware that Hardy had a full view on his naked arse. “We’re gonna go back to our house. We’ll stay there. Together. I’ll take care of you.” She glanced at the detective behind them. “We can go?” “He’s got the green light from me.” He wasn’t a suspect, just a witness, and the doctors said he could go home. He was in the clear. They hadn’t found anything abnormal about him. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or not to be human. It was quite insulting. And comforting somehow. Nothing to fear. Nothing to hide.
x
“Is it me or the lights are brighter and more colourful?” Rose giggled, “You’re drunk.” “I’m not.” “You are.” “I’d know if I was.” Rose sniggered. He played offended. He thought she was lying but she knew better than him on this point. The weirder was that they hadn’t drunk alcohol. At all. It was just the beginning of the party. They wanted to enjoy it, not get wasted. So why was she too feeling tipsy? She left the Doctor alone a couple minutes to use the loo. There was a time when being alone for a while wouldn’t have bothered him. He used to be chatty, turned toward people and today, the crowd was terrifying him. Even with a numb mind that made him feel stupid. How were normal people handling such a slow brain? He grabbed another drink at the bar, and another when this one was empty. What was taking so much time to Rose? He was the silent witness of people getting drunker and drunker, of the atmosphere changing. Himself was having troubles. He couldn’t keep his balance; the sounds were coming to his ears as if he was underwater – maybe he was? – his sight was blurry. He was convinced not to have drunk alcohol and yet, he truly was drunk. He couldn’t deny it anymore as he was awkwardly reeling on the edge of the pool. “What are you doing?” It was a voice he knew very well. Even with ears that didn’t work well, he would recognise his Rose. He turned around and gave her a gleeful grin. His fifth fruit juice had eliminated all tension and fear. He was relaxed. Happy. Maybe too much. Rose didn’t think it was normal. He could see it on her face despite the blur. “Enjoying the party! What about you?” “We should go home.” “No, we should step in the deep end.” On that, he let himself fall in the pool and drag her with him. He was an excellent swimmer and he was back to the water quickly. Rose was yelling at him for being the stupidest idiot ever. Her fist connected with his shoulder and he was laughing heartily. If he had been sober, he would have noticed the danger, but his faculties were off. He would regret it later.
x
The Doctor woke up abruptly and sat up straight. His heart was racing and he was panting. The dream in itself hadn’t been scary. It was just a memory he had forgotten. His doctor at the hospital said it could happen. The memories could come back through dreams and flashbacks, or they could remain in the dark. “You okay?” He turned his head. Rose was laid on her side and watching him. No sign of sleep on her face. Had she been watching over him all this time? All the while he was gone, she had been looking for him and worrying. She had been less exposed to the drugs contrarily to him but she had had enough to let him go with a mysterious person at 5am. And none of them could remember who it was. He lay back down, stared at the ceiling. He was trying to bring his heart rate and breathing to normal. Rose put her hand on his cheek and stroked it gently to give him comfort. “’s nothing. Just a memory from the party. Nothing helpful unfortunately.” He sighed, closed his eyes. If only he could have a glimpse at the face of the person he had followed… The inquiry wasn’t going anywhere. This guy wasn’t findable. His acts had caused a huge mess, hurt lots of people. There was no obvious mobile. Maybe just someone who never left high school, someone who wanted the too serious to have fun. But there were consequences and this person had to pay for this. “You’re peeling.” She was amused by the situation. She took a bit of peeling skin between her fingers and pulled on it. He protested and slapped her hand away. His body was rejecting the damaged skin and replacing it by a fresh new one. If they pulled on the skin, it could cause more damages than there already were. They had to leave it like this. “We’ve stayed locked in here for days.” “I don’t want to go outside.” “Doctor…” “I’m not scared. I just… I don’t want to.” It wasn’t entirely the truth and they both knew it but the Doctor would never say out loud that he was terrified. Someone had drugged him without him knowing and he had followed that someone. He would have died if Alec Hardy hadn’t found him. It wasn’t something that was pleasing him but it was the truth and he hadn’t even thanked him properly. It really was annoying him but he wasn’t an ungrateful man. He had to do something for him. “Your friend saved my life.” “I’m glad he did.” “I have to thank him.” “But you’re too proud to just say thanks to him.” “Oi! Watch it, blondie!” The nickname earned him a slap on his shoulder immediately followed by an apology. Even if his skin was peeling in some places, there were still others that were sensitive, especially when the touch was violent. Well, violent. It was a way to say it. Rose would never hurt him willingly unless he did something really stupid. Like standing too close to the edge of a mountain. Or betraying her in some ways. Which would never happen. He would never forgive himself if he did. “So you wanna thank him the red bicycle way.” He sighed, “I shouldn’t have told you that.” She grinned one of those grins he liked so much on her face and he became oblivious of her mockery. Instead, he stole a kiss from her and got up from bed. He needed a good shower to clear his mind and feel better. He had had sponge baths in the past few days. It was the only thing he could bear on his burnt skin, and bearing this was a huge euphemism. Rose had had the benefit of doing this as if she was a nurse and he was a patient. She had pretty much enjoyed it but now he could take care of himself. He looked terrific in the mirror, and so he avoided it carefully. Rose was sat on the toilet lid when he came out of the shower. He had a towel around his waist and was using another to dry his hair. He stopped in his tracks. “You know I don’t like it.” “What don’t you like?” “We talked about that already.” “I remember.” He used his second towel to hide his torso but it was too late and vain. Her eyes had already taken every single bruise and cut into consideration. If she wanted answers, he had none, and the hospital already listed all the wounds they had found on him. They also tried to convince him to see a therapist. That was the last of his troubles at the moment. All these wounds were self-inflicted and they had thought he had done this to himself. It might have come up to his mind a few times but never to that point. And he wasn’t smoking… Was he? He ignored her, turned his back on her but she wouldn’t just stay there and say nothing. She was behind him in two swift steps. Her warm and gentle hands unwrapped his torso, put the towel aside. She was facing his back. Her fingers delicately slid down his arm. A shiver ran down his back. Her hand found his, she slipped her fingers between his, squeezed his hand. He heaved a shaky sigh. He wouldn’t win this round, even if he was pleading. And he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t go so low. He had his proudness. She didn’t compel him to turn around, didn’t even come around to face him. Instead, she grabbed the white T-shirt on the top of the pile of clean clothes he had prepared for today. An unexpected side of him. He was planning things. The pile of clothes was only one of those things. A small one. He must have inherited this trait from Donna. She unfolded the shirt, delicately passed his head in the hole made for the head. As an automatism, he passed his arms in the sleeves. “We could invite him over for dinner.” “In the house he’s renting to us?” “Yeah, I see your point.” “Dinners are private. For me. I only want to share them with you. You’re my family.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. She kept her embrace loose for him not to be uncomfortable. She placed her head on his back. Just the comforting embrace he needed. And his words moved her. He was a man without family and she had lost her bond with hers. They only had each other. A little family of two. Better than nothing at all. Better with two. “Maybe for lunch then?” “It doesn’t solve the whole ‘he’s renting the house to us’ thing.” “We could go in town.” “Is there any restaurant around?” “Of course. Small town but civilised.” “But…” “It doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow. We can wait until you’re better.” He got free from her embrace, pulled on his boxers and jeans. He didn’t face her immediately. First, he straightened his shirt, rubbed his face. He had to think about shaving. Or should he keep the stubble? He didn’t think Rose would like the full beard, but she might like the T-shirt. He had bought it for himself when he was out for shopping. Before the pool party happened. “Do you want me to shave you?” He raised an eyebrow. That was the first time she was making an offer like this to him, but they had crossed a line on that mountain, had unlocked the next stage in their relationship. Her hand was certain. She wouldn’t tremble. But did she really want to do that for him? “What?” “I can shave you. I was doing it sometimes for Mickey.” “You’re kidding.” “Nope.” “Rickey never had facial hair.” Rose chuckled but he was being mean to Mickey again. Sometimes, she was missing her best friend and regretting the time they had had together. She should have treated him much better. He deserved better and hopefully he would find the happiness she hadn’t been able to give him. “Come on, sit down on the toilet lid.” He shrugged and obeyed while she was filling the sink with warm water and gathered the razor, the shaving foam and a towel. She faced him and almost dropped the shaving stuff. First, there was astonishment. Then, she burst out laughing. It was so unexpected to see him wearing a white shirt with a large smile and a wink. He glanced at the pattern. “Don’t like my shirt?” “Yes. Yes, I do. That’s just surprising.” “I should have taken the banana shorts to go with it. You would have loved it.” “Sure I would. We can still go and get it if you’re up from this.” “And then, we’ll go to the fair?” “What made you change your mind about going out?” “If you can shave me without trembling, I can go outside without fear.” She grinned her signature tongue-touching smile and he grinned back at her. The fair had settled down behind their rented house last weekend and the music of the attractions were resounding every day and every night. It was driving him insane. But it could be fun to go and try to impress Rose. For now, he closed his eyes and appreciated her expert hands shaving the light stubble on his face. She delicately cleaned his face when she was done. “You’d like it if I had a beard?” “I wouldn’t mind if you liked it.” “And a moustache?” “No way.” “Sure about that?” “Certain. I’m okay with the stubble and a full beard but not with the moustache. It’s awful.” He smiled again and she sat on his lap for a short hug. She put some aftershave on his face and neck. There, he was all ready and looking awesome with that peeling skin, that smile and that outfit. She would get him that banana shorts if he really wanted them. It would be a private joke between them. But right now, she was betting on him really wanting a banana flavoured ice-cream. It was time to make their first appearance outside…
A suivre
The summertime of our lives © | 2019 | Tous droits réservés.
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haruki-ya · 5 years
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A Place to Crash (And Burn)
Summary:  Kai and Kaneda yell at each other a little bit and cry over cry baby Tetsuo. There’s lots more to it than that, but like kinda a lot....so read on if you truly dare.
A/N: REPOSTING this cause fuck it y not I ain’t ever gonna be fully happy with anything I write and I must come to terms with that by EMBRACING the ART of IMPERFECTION. She a thicc one tbh, close to 7,000 words wow (do u see why i said read on if u dare), but from a new character perspective that I was hesitant to try writing in and have @fridge-04 and @totallylegitakirafic to thank for so hey! thank you ! I think my attempt turned out all right! also totallylegit, can you spy with your little eye the Makiko reference? lol enjoy my LOVES <3
Kai couldn’t really say the loud knocking on his door at one in the morning woke him up because he had already been awake, lying in bed in the dark thinking about things of the past.
It had been a rough week, a sleepless week. One spent mourning a death that others celebrated. One spent missing a friend who others considered an enemy. Kai doesn't think there will be any closure for the surviving townspeople any time soon, even three years after the great fall of Neo Tokyo.
Most of their homes are still in shambles and they like to be angry anyway. Kai will admit it’s a more fulfilling emotion than hopelessness.
Kai waits a minute before rolling out of bed. There are only a handful of people who would come knocking on his door at this hour, but that means they’re familiar enough to know he likes to end his night early to start his day earlier. So whoever this is must not care or must know that he’s not sleeping. Or it’s an important matter, but that’s pretty unlikely.
As Kai stumbles through the dark of his loft towards the door, tripping over stray clothes and a stack of old newspapers, he hears voices from the outside. Kei’s annoyed tone rings out strong.
“...come on, I can’t entertain this behavior tonight. I’ve got to meet up with Chiyoko soon, you know that Kaneda.” There’s a mumbled response that Kai doesn’t catch, probably from Kaneda, as he opens the door to a sight that he isn’t really surprised to see.
Kei is dressed in cool, neutral tones and struggling to hold up the swaying form of Kaneda, who reeks of booze and cigarette smoke under her arm, obviously more fucked up than he’s been in a while. Her face is steely with annoyance under the brim of her cap, but when her eyes meet his there is a poorly concealed concern that makes Kai sigh suddenly and drop his shoulders. There’s also a badly hidden plea for help.
“Hello Kai. I really hate to ask this, but can you look after him for a while?”
“Uh…what?” Is the most eloquent response Kai can manage. Kaneda’s stilted voice cuts in before Kai can properly respond, but to be fair he doesn't even really know what to say.
“M’fine Kei, I don’t needa be babysat by a kid.” And that kinda stings, cause hello to you too asshole, and he’s younger than Kaneda sure, but he usually acts more mature than his childish ass and the digs at his age have been few and far in between since Yamagata passed...since the Capsules fell apart. Kai only manages to be annoyed by the comment.
Kei swats Kaneda over the head and pushes him against the wall next to Kai’s door, anger bursting across her face. Kaneda rubs at his head and tries to straighten to his full height and glare at Kei, but his gaze is unfocused and more squinted in what Kai would assume is pain than anger. Kai narrows his eyes at them and stifles a yawn suddenly behind his hand, unimpressed with their familiar antics. If they came all the way here to bother him, they're off to a good start.
“Cut it out Kaneda! I’ve had it with your bullshit attitude this week. I know things are tough for you right now, but that’s no excuse to treat your friends like garbage just to make yourself feel better!” Kei turns on Kai before Kaneda gears up to answer and ignores whatever he mumbles under his breath. It sounds suspiciously like “bitch” to Kai and now he kinda understands Kei's anger. He’s never stooped so low as to glare so fiercely at her while saying that. Kai is becoming more and more confused.
“I need to meet Chiyoko and the others, an emergency meetings been called. Some cultists have been gathering around the old stadium and rumor has it they’re planning something there during daylight. I can’t be dragging his drunk weight with me, he’ll only slow me down and annoy me to death before we’d arrive.” Kaneda snorts and pushes up from the wall and brushes past Kai into his dark apartment, cursing when he trips over something that clatters loudly. Kei’s eyes don’t leave his face, but the sharpness of her gaze wavers.
This is gonna be fun.
“Uh… so your first thought was to dump him on me? ” Kai's response is more of a statement than a question really. He's still kind of lost to this whole situation. It’s been a while since he’s seen Kaneda or Kei, though they’re practically a package deal now a days, and while he is glad to see them, always, part of him also feels bitter for being left out of their orbit for this long and suddenly be expected to so easily be pulled right back into it.
Ever since the distance started growing between Kai and Kaneda, and subsequently Kei too, he's dedicated more and more of his time to volunteering around the city doing odd jobs for people: moving rubble, cleaning up trash, helping deliver food. He does it in the hopes that maybe his dedicated efforts as one will equal out to the prior three. Kai hangs out at a friend of Joker’s shop in his spare time too and does his best to learn from the mechanic, but much of the slang Joker and his pals use still goes over his head. His habit of journaling and note taking has helped greatly though, a by product of an overactive brain and an inability to keep details oriented. Kaneda could probably benefit from that too.
Kaneda and Kei used to volunteer with him, used to stay over all the time and help at the local shelter down the block from Kai’s apartment, but when the power was restored to all the remaining blacked out city blocks and a semblance of order returned to the city, Kei’s Rebel group was quick to get in touch and reignite their cause. Kei didn’t really ask Kaneda to join her, or become what many call her right hand man, but he rose to the occasion better than anyone could have expected. Kai never got a formal invitation to join their ragtag team of rebels either, but he would have politely declined any how. He’s had enough action for a lifetime thank you very much, and he knows he wouldn't have filled any shoes as well as Kaneda could. No surprise there. He's not really bitter about it.
Kaneda is hard to pin down these days, becoming more of a myth than a real man, but where Kei is he’s not far off. She got him involved with many of the old resistance outposts that double as relief shelters, not quite done with their original purpose. As Kei said, there are still people praying to the dead and gone “Lord Akira”. They’re desperate enough to believe that someone with the power to take so much away, to cause so much devastation, can just as easily bring it all back.
If only it were that easy.
They’re relatively harmless, just a scattered group of vagabonds looking for some kind of purpose in this fucked up place, but sometimes they get a little too close to things they shouldn't. Sometimes they wind up in possession of objects that three years ago were dangerous in the wrong hands, fatal in the right ones. The remaining resistance members, as well as the spirited youth who join the cause daily, have taken it upon themselves to squash any and all attempts to get too close to something that can’t simply be reburied in rubble. The emergency meeting must be important.
Today is the third anniversary of Tetsuo’s death after all and cults tend to believe in the religious power of symbolic resurgence.  
Kei’s face softens as a light pours out suddenly from somewhere behind him, and her eyes follows suit as they both listen to Kaneda rifle around his fridge, probably looking for more booze. His attitude makes sense now that he's put two and two together, and Kai sighs again, sadly this time. He feels bad all of a sudden for being difficult.
“I’m sorry to come here like this Kai, with him, after we haven’t properly visited in a while...but I think it would be good for him to spend some time with an old friend. Maybe talk about whatever is making him want to drink himself unconscious with someone who can...better understand.”
Kai tries for a smile and it sort of works, despite feeling a little stiff on his face. He feel’s like there’s something else Kei isn’t telling him, another shoe that’s waiting to be dropped. There always is with these two.
Kei’s eyes narrow as the light from the fridge slowly shrinks and Kaneda moves onto his cupboards, opening and closing them a little too loudly for the time of night. Good think this floor of the building is mostly abandoned.  
“I don’t trust him alone right now.” She says lowly, and there it is. Kai can’t really blame her and also can't turn either of them away even if he wanted to so he sighs, again, and braces himself against the doorway.
“Yeah, I understand Kei, last year was pretty rough too. We got him through it though, and we, eh...I'll do it again. We always look out for each other after all.” Kei looks relieved by his words but far from consoled. Kaneda trips again in his apartment but looks to have stumbled into a lamp as a minute later light spills out behind him once again. It highlights the conflict on Kei’s face.
“Thank you. I’ll be back sometime in the early afternoon. I owe you one Kai.” He shakes his head at that and sends her a smile.
“No you don’t. He’d do the same for me if he had to. Be safe out there Kei and kick some Akiraist ass for us. ” Kei smiles softly and puts a hand on his shoulder for a moment before turning and walking briskly down the hallway, gone from his sight in just four paces. Leaving him alone with a moody drunk in his apartment.
Right, he should check in on that.
Kai closes the door and takes a moment to brace himself before he turns around into the living room, finds Kaneda sprawled on the futon, one leg hanging off the back, an arm over his eyes. His boots are kicked off haphazardly by the lamp and his jacket a makeshift pillow under his head. His other hand holds a bottle of liquor Kai didn’t even know he had. Leave it to Kaneda to sniff out any hidden spirits.
“Hey. Welcome. Make yourself at home, please I insist.” Kai intones dryly and settles into a sitting position on the floor, back against his makeshift coffee table. Kaneda grunts in reply.
“Long time no see Kaneda. I thought you said you weren’t gonna be a stranger?” Kaneda makes another noncommittal sound before throwing his arm from his face to take a swig of, what is that, aged whiskey? Why does Kai even have that?
“That’s gross, dude. How much have you had to drink today?” Kaneda’s reply is wet and rough.
“Not enough.” And Kai sighs. It had been pretty much the same last year.
The previous anniversary, Kai had met up with Kaneda by chance at some back alley bar downtown. They shared a drink or two (or three) before Kai had managed to coax Kaneda outside for a walk, after letting the numbing buzz of booze kick in of course. While Kai counted that as a win, Kaneda had been plastered at two in the afternoon and adamant against parting with the bottle of brandy he snatched from behind the counter when the barkeep turned his back. 
Unfortunately, he wasn’t so successful in coaxing Kaneda to leave the bottle behind.
Any other day, he wouldn't have minded indulging in their old ways of competitive drinking, but something about the idea left a bad taste in his mouth that day. Whether from the memory of vomit or just the thought of who would always be seated by his side for drinking competitions, Kai can't say.
They exchanged laughs and jokes for a while, aimlessly walked through the poorly reconstructed streets before they wandered along the memorial wall of pictures pinned up in the wake of so many deaths.
An unprecedented amount.
Kai had felt nostalgic all day, a heavy feeling that sat in his gut and curbed his smiles a little, and wasn't really bothered to wind up there. His mother had always taught him to pay his respects to the dead anyhow so Kai once again talked Kaneda into a walk, this time along the memorial wall where there was nothing to look at but smiling faces frozen in happiness, endless notes displaying declarations of love and everlasting peace. Vases of flowers, new and old, lined the base of the wall along with a few stuffed animals and makeshift shrines. He had idly thought about how nice it would be to stumble upon the picture he left of him, Kaneda and Yamagata a year prior. That would be something nice to smile about.
The memorial stretched on for what felt like miles, but Kai walked the whole length of it regardless, nodding respectfully to those who passed him by, not noticing Kaneda’s growing silence or the way he had started to slow down in front of Kai. It was easy to get lost in the sea of faces. He had figured Kaneda was simply being contemplative, and well, Kai wasn't wholly wrong.
He was jolted out of his thoughts when he ran into Kaneda’s back and almost knocked over a vase full of wilted flowers trying to stay balanced.
“Let’s make a toast. To those who aren’t here today to drink with us.” 
Kaneda’s voice had been rough, almost choked, but Kai couldn’t see his face when he laughed a sour note, when he overturned his bottle of brandy carelessly onto the vase Kai almost broke with it’s sad, dying flowers. They still had meaning, a purpose though, something more grand than being doused in shitty booze. 
A significance in their decay.
“A toast to all those sorry bastards who died for nothin’.”
A meaning still in death.
Kai had stood frozen for a moment, not really comprehending what he was seeing, what he was hearing. Looked from the growing puddle of liquor at their feet, to the back of Kaneda’s loud jacket as he suddenly jolted into movement and tucked into an alley off to their left.  Kai didn’t move until the now empty bottle Kaneda had been holding smashed into the alley wall, breaking into shards of glimmering glass that crunched loudly under his feet. Kai startled and felt something unpleasant bubble hot under his skin, coil tight in his gut.
It was rage.
“What the fuck!” Kai had run after Kaneda when the cold disbelief drained from his body and the hot fury replaced it. He noticed, a little too late, the stagger to Kaneda’s step, the sluggishness in his pace. The tell tale signs of someone too far gone to care about their actions.
When Kai reached Kaneda, he had damn near tackled him in the back alley, furious and emboldened by his blatant disrespect, at being ignored, at the pain and anger that had been stewing within Kai for a little bit too long, released by the stupidity of Kaneda’s actions. He had thought that childishness was behind them.
“Kaneda! What the fuck was that? How could you be so disrespectful?” His voice had felt shrill in his ears, anger fueling the boldness in his words. Kaneda staggered under the weight of Kai’s body, but did not tip over. Only turned to glance at Kai over his shoulder before attempting to shrug off his hold and continue on but Kai held tight.
“Hey asshole! Stop ignoring me. What's your problem?” Kaneda’s shoulders had tensed at that and he spun suddenly on his feet, almost making himself and Kai topple over. His face was a mess of emotions and his breath reeked of brandy. Kaneda had always been taller than him, but now he absolutely towered over Kai, who recoiled slightly in disgust, slightly in discomfort.  
“My problem? All those dead people. My problem? Knowing who killed em. My problem? Playin a part in it!” Kai hadn’t seen Kaneda like that in a while, that angry and upset, that ready to pick a fight instead of end one. The snarl on his face was pure malice and his eyes burned with regret, glassy and shining with unshed tears that Kaneda wouldn't let himself cry. Kai was suddenly at a loss for words as Kaneda continued, looking right through him.
“Fuck! All those dead people. All the destruction. All by the hands of a fuckin power crazy kid, God...what’s my problem? Hah, what isn't my problem.” Kaneda’s voice dropped in volume, trailed off into a mumble as he turned and started walking away from Kai, who stood frozen in the middle of the alley. What had that been? Where the hell had that outburst come from?
“Kaneda…” Kai didn’t know what to say, didn’t know where to start dissecting that obvious cry for help. Not even in their first few weeks after the explosion had Kaneda been so volatile and bothered. Not noticeably.
“Kai."
Kaneda’s voice rung out loudly in response a moment later, fell hollow on his ears. Kaneda shoved his hands in his pockets, and paused for one moment longer, before continuing on. “Sorry for scaring ya. Don’t follow me. And don’t worry either. M’gonna be just fine.”
And Kai really didn’t know what else to do but listen and believe as Kaneda disappeared out the mouth of the alley. He wasn’t sure he would want to follow him anyway with the unpredictability of liquor fueled sadness up his sleeve. Kai went back to the memorial after a long moment of consideration and did his best to clean up the puddle of alcohol Kaneda left behind.
It was the least he could do.
The next day, Kaneda hadn’t really acted any differently than normal. Aside from complaining about a headache and sporting some new bruises on his knuckles that Kai didn’t dare to question him about, he was relatively the same happy go lucky, good natured guy he had always been. Kai was relieved, but couldn’t help but think that wouldn’t be the last time he saw that side of Kaneda.
He’s sad to know that he was right.
“I heard from Tanaka that you’ve started your own kiddy care center at the Old Town base camp.” Kai does his best to try and lighten the mood, both for his sake and Kaneda’s. Get their minds off the pressing matter, the elephant in the room. Small talk, he’s relatively good at that.
“I gotta say, I’m not surprised. You always have been the big brother type.” Kaneda snorts a little at that, and glances at him out of the corner of his eye. There’s a faint smile on his dry lips.
“Yeah...m’not always so good at the ‘let’s-get-down-to-business’ and stay on the topic of business thing. Annoys the hell outta Kei as you know, but I help where I can and they’re good kids.” Kai smiles and opens his mouth to make a dig about Kaneda goin' soft on him when he’s cut off as Kaneda keeps talking.
“There’s a kid there that reminds me of Tets...when he was younger. Real shy, real sweet. Got lots of hidden anger. Her mom died in a building collapse a few weeks back and I was the one who found her afterwards...she’s got no one else. She’s all alone now.”
Kai’s words get stuck in his throat, and he swallows hard around the lump they’ve formed there. Kaneda takes another swig of alcohol, and Kai watches as a drop slips out his mouth and through the stubble on his chin, along the column of his throat. It glimmers in the light and catches on his adams apple that bobs with long gulps. Kai's throat burns just watching.
“How long are you going to blame yourself?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, but he doesn’t regret saying them. It’s a question that’s been on Kai’s mind for a while now, one that’s probably lingering somewhere in the back of Kaneda’s own. His mouth barrels on before his mind can stop him.
“It wasn’t your fault. We did all we could for him Kaneda. You know that right?” Kai isn’t really expecting an answer, or if anything a response in the quiet, subdued tone Kaneda uses. His arm is back to shielding his eyes.
“No, I don’t think we did.”
“Well, I think you’re stupid for believing that. And I think it's disrespectful to Tetsuo to say that too.” And maybe he regrets saying that a little bit, but Kai has recently become less and less afraid to say what’s on his mind. Less and less afraid to express himself and assert his opinion. Kaneda doesn’t look impressed though, by the piercing glare he suddenly sends Kai’s way, arm resting on his forehead now.
“And I think you don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin bout Kai. Now shaddup, I came here to crash not to do couch therapy.” Kai usually isn’t so quick to rile, so quick to rise to the bait, but he’s played this game of intimidation one too many times to simply back down. To simply let Kaneda have the last word here. The topic is too important to brush under the rug any longer.
“You didn’t come here to crash, you were brought here before you crashed. Which is what you’re doing! Crashing! And burning too by the looks of it! Kei didn’t trust you enough to leave you alone, and I don’t blame her. You’re acting like a dumb reckless baby.” And that really ruffles Kaneda’s feathers the wrong way. He shoots up like a jackknife, eyes furious and focused.
“What the fuck do you know about anything, huh? What do you know about Tetsuo? You never really liked him anyway, you and Yama always thought he was a lost cause or some shit. Who are you to suddenly tell me what I did and didn’t do for ‘im? Fuck that! Fuck you!” But Kai’s still not backing down. In fact, he stands up so he’s looking down on Kaneda, a position he’s rarely been in even after growing a few inches over the years.
It doesn’t feel as good as he thought it would.
“No Kaneda, fuck you! You can’t keep acting like what happened is your problem and yours alone. Like you’re the only one who has a right to be sad, to mourn. I miss him. I feel bad for him. I feel bad for what happened because of him. And I feel bad about what happened to him, but Kaneda, we did our damn best to help him! To help the whole town! What point is there in wallowing in the past when it’s behind us? You know? What point is there in blaming yourself for his death when it wasn’t your fault!”
Kai pauses for a minute and his chest is heaving. Kaneda is looking at him with wide eyes, clouded with an emotion Kai can’t really decipher. He pushes on and hopes Kaneda will hear him.
“Everything that happened three years ago to the day, Kaneda, it was out of your control. Not your fault. There were bigger forces at work the whole time, strings being pulled and moves being made that we couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Not your fault!  What is your fault is letting your sad, self deprecating emotions turn you bitter and unapproachable to your friends. It’s your fault for letting that anger and pain tear you apart and for letting it tear apart your friends too. I love you Kaneda, you’re my brother, you’re family and it sucks to see you so down right now but look around you man….you’re not the only one in pain. You’re living in a town trapped in anger and sadness, how much more do you want to keep contributing to that?”
After a long moment of silence between them, of intense unbroken eye contact, Kai turns away from Kaneda and heads towards the kitchen. He said his two cents, and if Kaneda is going to stonewall him and ignore what he has to say again, fine. So be it. He's dealt with that before. But Kai, unlike Kaneda, isn’t okay with holding onto those negative emotions until they tear him apart. He learned the consequences of that lesson a long time ago with his mother.
He fills up a cup with tap water and hears Kaneda clear his throat once, twice. “Kai…” Kaneda’s voice calls weakly to him from the living room, sounding worn and older than it is. “Did I ever tell you how I met Tetsuo?” He hasn’t .
“You haven’t.” He takes a big drink and waits a beat before making his way back towards the living room. Kaneda is still sitting up, but his head is cradled in his hands, shoulders slumped in defeat. Kai sits this time with his back against the futon, shoulder flush with Kaneda’s leg. Kai can feel a tremor run under Kaneda’s skin.
“We were kids when we met in some shitty school orphanage. He came a week or so after I did and I guess I didn’t really notice him at first, or care bout him. But one day...I saw some kids giving him a hard time. Pushing him around, laughing at him, calling him names. They stole his only toy and laughed when he cried. Real jerks those kids. The worst part though was how he didn’t even fight back. Just let em knock him around and push his buttons.” Kai listens in silence, gaze fixed on the glass in his hands.
Is it half empty or half full?
“I didn’t understand why he just let it happen until I saw his face, cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have let those jerks have their fun with me when I first showed up but...He looked so hopeless. He was such a sad kid, Kai, like...all his anger and all his pride, swap that with sadness and insecurity. I’m sure you saw it, he was shit at hiding his true feelings despite how tough he always acted...so childish.
“And I don’t know, I just...got so angry, seeing how little he cared to stand up for himself and how the kids just jumped on that weakness like a pack a wild dogs. I kicked their collective asses and got Tetsuo’s toy back for him. Took him under my wing after that and then we were Kaneda and Tetsuo, rulers of the playground…Kaneda and Tetsuo, founders of the Capsules. Kaneda and Tetsuo, brothers till the end...somethin in me just always wanted to protect him, cause he was so bad at doin it himself. I told him as much and he was glad for it at first, started to resent my help as we grew up though. I think he felt I was looking down on him or somethin', but I just...couldn’t help but want to protect that stupid, sad, reckless kid I always saw in him, crying all alone on the playground. Lookin like he needed help but not knowing how to ask.”
Kai still keeps quiet. Some part of him had always thought Kaneda and Tetsuo were actually brothers, or maybe cousins at the least despite not really looking alike. Their kinship and familiarity stemmed into something deeper than just friends, a fierce affection that Kaneda expressed in overzealous jokes and jibes, that Tetsuo showed in tolerant indignation and annoyance. Kai only understands it now, having a similar relationship himself with Kaneda. And he can kind of understand too where Tetsuo’s anger came from.
Kaneda is a great guy. Goofy, sure, carefree, considerably, but he is fiercely loyal and more clever than anyone gives him credit for. A natural born leader with his charisma, he’s always been destined for great things despite preferring to pop pills and joke around.
That’s where some of the anger comes into play.
Someone like Kaneda, someone who naturally exudes confidence and a strong presence, who makes standing up for himself look natural and effortless, he’s the kinda person Kai would be jealous of if he didn’t admire him so much, if he wasn’t lucky enough to call him family. Tetsuo always had a hard time being open, holding connections. Trusting that kindness wasn’t fueled by pity, and jokes weren’t sincere. Kai can imagine very well how hard it might have been feeling perpetually trapped in someone's else’s shadow, especially one as large as Kaneda's.
Kaneda sniffs suddenly and shakes his head within the cradle of his hands, rakes his fingers through his hair a few times before laughing wetly.
“Stupid Tetsuo, always causing me problems. Always leaving me to clean up after him even beyond the grave.” And Kai kinda cracks a smile at that one, glances up at Kaneda and blanches at what he sees. From his spot on the floor, he has a perfect view of Kaneda’s wrecked face.
There’s an impression of a smile on his lips, twisted into more of a grimace than anything. His eyes shine with tears that drip onto the floor like a waterfall, like rain in the desert after years of a brutal drought. He laughs again, or tries to, but it turns into a bitter sob that knocks him back into the futon with a sound of defeat.
Kai would normally jump up to offer comfort and words of reassurance at the sight of a friend in pain, but he’s sensed this coming for a long time now. Kei must have too. While surprising, it’s also completely expected and Kai knows that Kaneda is the type who needs to ride it out, needs to get to the bottom of his well of untapped emotions to move on from them. So he politely looks away as Kaneda proceeds to lose his usually cool composure and sits in silence as his heart aches for his friend.
For his friends.
“Fuck, I hate him Kai. I fuckin hate him. What a piece of work, a dumb fuckin asshole! I hope he’s rolling over in his grave right now, hope he hears me talking shit bout him from the great beyond. Because he's the worst ! A dumb, selfish, egotistical maniac! God, I’ll be living with his reckless messes for the rest of my life and he just got a free pass. Got a goddamn one way ticket far away from this shit circus of a town that he fucked halfway to hell. Left it all behind like it was the easiest thing, like it all meant nothing. What a jerk!” Kaneda is in near hysterics thanks to the combined liquor and outpouring of repressed emotions, caught between a mix of yelling, laughing, and crying. A truly impressive feat, if Kai says so himself.
“All those night we stayed up late talkin’ about how we were gonna change the world, how we were gonna, fuck, fix this broken town not-not break it beyond repair! In the end there wasn’t even a we anymore, not even an us. Just a -just him. Just Tetsuo. All that mattered to him in the end was his stupid, dumb self. Pathetic, he never even liked himself, that’s why I was there!”
Kai hands him his glass of water silently after Kaneda’s rant reaches an intermission and he downs it in three gulps. Takes a minute, thankfully, to dry his eyes and get control over his breathing. Kai just sits next to Kaneda and leans a little more heavily against his leg. Thinks about how weird it is to hear Kaneda sound so torn over someone leaving him behind for once. Kaneda’s scratchy voice speaks softly by his head.
“Fuck that... fuck him. Stupid cry baby bastard, can’t believe I had an ungrateful brat like that as my friend…but fuck, I still miss him sometimes Kai. Sometimes...sometimes I wan’t him back.” Kai sighs for what feels like the millionth time that night, but it’s equal parts sadness and equal parts relief. The air around them feels different suddenly, somber now instead of stifled.
Kai get’s where Kaneda is coming from, maybe not fully but well enough. He didn’t know a lot about Tetsuo before he became a wrecking ball to the town, didn't know much beyond what Kaneda would tell him or what Tetsuo himself would let slip when he was too drunk to know any better. He knows that Tetsuo was never all bad though, never quite the type Yamagata pegged him as either despite the shit he did, even to Yamagata himself.
Tetsuo too was a victim to something greater than himself, to a power larger than the confines of his earthly body. It’s taken a while to forgive his friends indiscretions and while Kai will never forget them, he thinks it’s past time to really start healing from them.
“So do I Kaneda.” Kai whispers the admission softly, almost hesitant to feel the things he does for a friend he too sometimes thinks he failed. “I know we never got along as well as the two of you, but I cared about him all the same and sometimes I wish things had gone differently. But what happened, happened, and I think he’s in a better place now, and us, we’re making the best out of what we’ve got...which, might I remind your stubborn ass, is each other.”
Kai picks himself up off the ground and plops down on the futon next to Kaneda, feeling a fatigue wash over him and settle bone deep. Kaneda radiates heat like a furnace and kinda smells bad, but his eyes are dry now, albeit puffy and red. His gaze is far away, stuck somewhere in the past, but he nods his head idly in response to Kai’s statement because they both know it's true. That sentiment has been the core of the Capsules since day one, ‘look out for our own, take care of our own: we’re all we’ve got’.
Always. No doubt about it.
“You look like you’ve got pink eye.” He says instead of just about anything else he probably should say, once again to lighten the mood, and Kaneda’s lips twitch before blooming into a wry smile.
“Well yea, I did just cry my heart out to you.” Kai can’t fight a smile either.
“Yup, just like a dumb reckless baby. No wonder the two of you got along so well, you weren’t so different after all. ” And Kaneda finally laughs something that doesn’t sound horribly bitter and sad.
They spend most of the night catching up and retelling stories about their childhood days, reveling in the golden light of the past. The usual hesitance to mention Tetsuo’s name is gone from their mouths, and they freely talk about all the stupid shit they did together, all the drunken times they had, all the recklessly childish things they honestly don’t know how they got away with. Kaneda maybe cries again once or twice, but Kai joins in and it’s a free for all of feelings, a cathartic visit for the both of them.
They collapse the futon and fall asleep right around the time the sun rises, and Kai doesn’t wake up on his own for once. The weight of another body settling on the futon jolts him into consciousness and he’s only slightly confused at the shy smile Kei sends him as she slips off her shoes and sets her coat on the floor. It’s a sight that’s very familiar to him despite having spent months alone in this apartment and he automatically scoots over some to make more room for Kei.
“You didn’t answer when I knocked, so I decided to let myself in.” Kai nods at her answer because it sounds plausible enough and he’s had worse people break into his apartment before. She stretches before lying down next to Kai, making him feel like a sardine squeezed in tightly between Kaneda’s back and Kei’s side. Kaneda snores suddenly and mumbles something in his sleep that sounds like “udon” to him and Kei rolls her eyes as Kai stifles a yawn, still closer to being asleep than awake.
“How did the meetin' go?” Kei hums to acknowledge she heard him before closing her eyes and sighing out her nose. She doesn’t respond for a long moment, but he doesn’t press it.
“Let’s talk about it later. Maybe over dinner?” Kai nods slowly. It must be the afternoon already if the light peeking in from the still closed curtains is any indication. Kei did say she would return around mid day. With the way she’s melting into the futon aside him, and Kaneda is snoring lightly on the other side of him, Kai imagines they won’t be moving until dinner time anyway.
“Sounds good....I can make udon ramen.” Kei hums again, and out of his peripheral he can see a slow smile spread on her face.
“Kaneda’s been talking about your ramen for months...I really am sorry we haven't been around lately.” If Kai weren’t so tired he would shrug, but his eyelids are getting heavier by the minute. If Kaneda is like a furnace, Kei is like a burning star, hotter than the sun. He’s starting to feel okay with being a sardine between these two.
“No worries. It was nice to catch up. Think we both needed to get some things off our chests anyway.”  
Kai can hear the smile in Kei’s voice as she says softly, “Thank you, Kai. You’re really an amazing friend.”
Kai smiles back even though she’s probably not looking and responds, “Yeah, I am pretty great aren’t I?”
Kei’s pealing laughter (and Kaneda’s quiet snore of agreement) is the last thing he remembers hearing before falling back asleep.
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hannahindie · 7 years
Text
Not What She Seems-Chapter 15: The One Where Cas Has Bad News
Characters: Dean x Ava (OC), Sam, Cas, Sebastian (OC-brief mention) Word Count: 3,161 Warnings: Little bit of angst, some violence, a not so happy dream sequence A/N: This is the fifteenth installment of my first ever fan fiction. It has been an interesting road to get to this point, and I am both excited and a little sad to say that the end is swiftly approaching. To all of you that have been following since the beginning, thank you so much! For those of you just now realizing that this is a thing, you can catch up on the first fourteen parts here. This fic is extremely dark up until about chapter 8, warnings are included on the Masterlist notes.
As always, this was beta‘d by my loves @trexrambling and @pinknerdpanda, who are basically my fairy godmothers and somehow help me turn my words into what you see here. Thank you so much!
If you like what you see here, please head on over to my Masterlist for more! It is updated frequently. If you’d like to be tagged, please send me a message, an ask, a messenger pigeon, smoke signals, or whatever other form of communication you prefer. (Please note: My blog is about 98% safe for work, however, this particular series, for the most part, is not. If I know you’re under 18, I will not be tagging you in this series, and ask kindly that you don’t read it. As soon as you’re of age, have at it. But until then, my sweet, precious angel babies, I don’t want to contribute to your rebellious delinquency. I still love you, though. Mama bird, out.)
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Dean woke slowly, his body stiff from laying in the same position for so long. As he attempted to shift, he noticed the warm weight pinning his arm against the extra pillow and he gradually began to remember the events from last night. Ava was lying on her side, and her long hair had cascaded over her shoulder and just barely concealed the swell of her breast. Dean couldn’t help but smile as he ran his thumb gently down her spine, then he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered. He had expected her to stir, but she remained silent. “You’re either a heavy sleeper, or you’re just messing with me,” he chuckled as he planted kisses along her neck and nipped at her earlobe, something he had learned last night that she quite enjoyed. Nothing; no movement, no sound. His brows furrowed in concern, “Ava?”
He gently pulled his arm out from under her and rolled her onto her back. She looked normal, as if she was just sleeping. He gently cupped her cheek, her skin smooth but incredibly hot  against his rough palm. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell that they were moving under the lids, and a thin sheen of sweat shone on her forehead.
“Ava, wake up!” Dean could feel the panic rising in his chest at how still she was, aside from the little bit her eyes seemed to be moving, and sat up so that he could pull her into his lap.
“Come on, Ava, you need to wake up. You were fine, everything was fine, right? Ava!” Footsteps echoed in the hall and his door flew open.
Sam stood in the doorway, his hair still disheveled and tired eyes wide as he took in the sight in front of him, “What in the hell...why are you naked? Why is she...what is happening?”
Dean looked at Sam in panic, not even realizing that he was still naked from the night before, “She won’t wake up, Sammy. She was fine, everything was fine, and then we went to sleep and now...she won’t wake up. Sammy, why won’t she wake up?”
Sam quickly crossed the room and put a hand to Ava’s forehead, “She’s burning up, dude. You said she was fine last night?”
Dean nodded, “Yea...we came back here to talk, and then...well...you could probably guess what happened next. We fell asleep soon after, but she was fine. She was fine.” He fell silent, then as if realizing for the first time that both of them were naked hurriedly covered her with a blanket. “Can you get her some clothes? Maybe...maybe Cas can help.”
“Dean, Cas hasn't answered any of our prayers. Why would he show up now?”
“Just because I did not respond does not mean I did not hear you.”
Sam jumped at the sudden voice behind him and turned around to see Castiel standing almost against him. “Jesus, Cas!”
Dean laid Ava back on the bed and jumped up, eyes narrowed, “You heard me and just decided to ignore it? What the hell, man? She could have died! Where the hell were you?”
“I could tell that the situation was handled and that I was not needed immediately. Where I was is not relevant to the problem at hand.” He walked over to the bed and sat down gently as he put a hand to Ava’s forehead, “How long has she been like this?”
Dean ran a hand over his face and sighed, “I don't know...we've been asleep for a few hours...she was fine before that.” Cas closed his eyes and tilted his head as his brows came together in concentration. Dean frowned, “What? What's wrong?”
Cas turned to look at him, “I need some time.” He glanced down, then brought his eyes back up to meet Dean’s, “You may want to put some clothes on and get something to eat while you wait. I do not know how long this will take.”
One of the dresser drawers slid open on its own, and Dean walked over to grab what he needed from it and quickly dressed. He walked towards the door, then stopped to look at Ava one last time, “How bad is it, Cas?”
Cas frowned and gave his head a slight shake, “I do not know yet, but Dean...you may want to prepare yourself for the worst.”
Sam softly grabbed Dean’s arm, “Come on, man. Let's get some coffee.” Dean let Sam lead him out of the room and down the hall, his chest tight with possibilities that he did not want to think about.
She hears voices echoing down the long hallway of the house they are in, whispers of distrust and whether or not they will keep her with them. She can tell they are too far away, she shouldn’t be able to hear them, but the voices are distinct; Sam and Dean are discussing what they should do with her. She stops, and her grip tightens around the knife she doesn’t remember picking up.
“Sam, I don’t know, man. Look, you were soulless for awhile, and I didn’t just abandon you. You were dangerous, you had no sense of right and wrong, that there was a grey area. Do you remember how you acted?”
“Yea, I know, Dean, but...you heard what Cas said. This is different, this isn’t just not having a soul or drinking demon blood. It’s actually inside of her, Dean. Even after the blood transfusion, Cas said it’s the strongest connection he’s seen. I get it, man, I do. I lived it, and I wish for nothing more than to have her be free of that...that darkness. I just....I don’t think this is going to work. I know how much of a struggle it was, and I don’t know that she’s going to be able to live through it anyway. Maybe if she got away from this life, away from us, she’d stand a fighting chance.”
“So just throw her out there alone with no one to keep an eye on her, no one to remind her she’s still human?” Dean scoffs, “That’ll work. That’s a brilliant plan, Sam. Nothing could possibly go wrong with that scenario. What happened to you being the one that wanted to save her, huh?”
Dean sighs, and Ava can feel herself being pulled to him, a moment of softness and a desire to wrap her arms around him so that she can press herself against his chest and let his heartbeat ground her. As quickly as the moment comes, it is gone. In its place is anger, deep and ugly hatred bubbling and threatening to erupt. These were not her friends, not her family. These men want to abandon her. They are no better than the foster parents she had before she had managed to get away.
It’s like Ava is watching someone else walk down the hallway, like the knife is held in someone else’s hand. She quietly approaches the room she knows she'll find Sam and Dean in, and for a moment she almost talks herself out of it. There is no need to kill the Winchesters. They had rescued her, saved her from that monster-
Monster? I made you who you are, I made you strong, Ava. If not for me, you’d still be living that pretend life, going to work, coming home, making love to some man that was just kind enough to make you feel good about settling.  The Winchesters stole what we could have had. You would have come around, and I would have shown you a whole new world. You were strong, Ava. The Winchesters are making you weak...especially Dean.
Ava shakes her head as she tries to get rid of the voice. Dean saved her. Sam and Dean both have saved her. For the first time in her life, she has realized what it was like to actually care for someone. Ben was a wonderful man, but he had been convenient. Though she owes her life to the Winchesters, she knows her feelings for Dean are based upon something else, something deeper than anything she’s ever known. Dean Winchester is a good man.
Dean Winchester is a murderer. He killed me right in front of you, and you say he’s a good man? Do you know how many lives he has taken, how many of my kind and others he has destroyed for the sake of being a hunter? The man does not see in shades of grey, Ava. It is black and white. He claims he does it for the greater good, but you know what? It’s all lies. He does it for himself. He does it because his soul is broken and the only thing that makes him feel better is to destroy what everyone else has.
I don’t believe you.
Believe it. Listen.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe when we get done with this job we just go home and tell her how it is. We should have never brought her back to the bunker, Sam.”
“Dean, I’m sorry. I know I started this, and now you’re in it deeper than you should be. Are you going to be able to tell her to leave after everything that’s happened?”
Dean pauses as he thinks about the answer, “Yea...it’ll be okay. Hell, I left Lisa and Ben behind, and I actually loved them. Getting rid of Ava should be cake.”
See? He doesn’t care about you. You’re just another notch on his bedpost that he made the unfortunate mistake of bringing home instead of one of the dingy hotels they always stay at. You know what you should do, Ava?
What?
He took advantage of your trust and your feelings. He took the opportunity to be with me away. That makes you angry, doesn't it Ava?
Silence.
Your silence is answer enough. He took all those things away from you. You should take Sam away from him.
No! I can't hurt Sam. I can't do that to Dean.
I believe thou doth protest too much. You heard them. They don't care about you. They regret bringing you home with them. They're going to make you leave, Ava, and where are you supposed to go? The least you could do is make Dean regret it. They don't even know you're here, it would be so easy.
Ava feels her feet begin to move despite her attempt at staying in place. She makes it to the doorway and sees that both brothers have their backs turned towards her.
Perfect. It's like it was meant to be. Go ahead, Ava. Do it. It'll be easy.
Before she realizes what is happening, Ava crosses the space between her and Sam and with all of her strength, plunges the knife deep into Sam’s back. Before either Winchester can react, she has already pulled it back out and slammed it home again. Sam drops to the ground, and Dean looks at her in shock. Before he can say a word, Ava has lashed out at him, the knife catching him easily across the throat. Blood splashes across Ava’s face as Dean falls forward and tries to grab her. She steps back and watches as Dean hits the floor next to Sam. She calmly wipes the blood from her face with the back of her hand and feels a smile creep across her face.
See? How did that feel?
Ava pauses for a moment as she closes her eyes and allows the adrenaline to course through her. She takes a deep breath as she slowly opens her eyes and lets them rest on the widening pools of blood under the brothers.
It felt good.
“Dean, what were you thinking?” Sam looked at Dean as he leaned against the table, his head in his hands.
Dean looked up at Sam sharply, ‘What was I thinking? You were well on your way to trying it, Sam, and don’t deny it. Am I wrong?”
Sam shook his head, “I wasn’t going to-”
“Bullshit,” Dean spat, returning his head to his hands. Sam didn’t understand, Dean didn’t expect him to, but he was also pretty sure that if Sam didn’t shut up, he was going to punch him.
“Seriously though, Dean...it’s only been a couple of weeks. Neither one of us should have...she needed more time to herself.”
Dean shoved himself away from the table and went to the fridge. He opened it angrily and pulled out a beer, then threw the cap on the counter, “I didn’t do anything, Sam. She came to me, okay? It’s not like I planned it. Hell, I don’t think she did either. We were talking, and one thing led to another…” He sat back down at the table, “You know what, I don’t have to explain myself to you, and neither does she. What’s done is done, and of course neither of us can have nice things, so here we are. Do you have anything else to say about it? Or are you going to leave us two consenting adults alone?”
Sam sat down across from Dean, “You’re right. It’s not my business. Sorry.”
Dean began picking at the label on his beer, “Do you think she’s going to be okay?”
Sam shrugged, “Honestly? I don’t know. I thought things were getting better, that maybe the blood was running its course since the episodes seemed to have spread out but...maybe I was wrong. I thought I could understand it, but this is totally different than what happened with me. It’s unpredictable. I’ve been going off the assumption that Azazel would have been more powerful, but I’m beginning to wonder.”
“Sam, I don’t know what-”
“She is still asleep,” Cas’s deep voice interrupted.
Dean jerked around to see Cas standing uncomfortably close to him, “Fucking hell, Cas. You have got to stop doing that.”
“Sorry.” Cas took a step back, “I should probably reword what I just said. She is unconscious. She seems to be...dreaming.”
“What’s wrong with her? What is she dreaming about?”
Cas frowned, “It is hard to explain what is wrong with her. It appears that the blood she had been injected with has been, for a lack of a better term, multiplying. It is attaching itself to what is left of her blood vessels and taking them over.”
Dean looked between Cas and Sam, “What does that mean? Sammy, what does that mean?”
Sam sighed and looked down at his hands, “It means...it means that eventually her blood won’t be her blood. It will be Sebastian’s...it’ll be demon blood.”
Dean looked back at Cas, “Well, just fix it. Use your angel mojo and fix it. You heal us all the time.”
“Dean, it is not that simple. I am millions of years old and I have never seen this type of possession. I do not believe there is a way to reverse it. There is a darkness inside of her that, if left alone, will change her. She will not be Ava and she will not be Sebastian. I do not know how to describe it, but it will be powerful.”
‘How powerful?” Sam asked quietly, his eyes on Dean.
“I cannot say for certain, but I have cause to believe she will be almost as powerful as a nephilim. Sebastian may not have gotten the child that he wanted, but he succeeded in creating a being that will be more powerful than most of the heavenly host.”
“How long do we have before she turns?” Dean asked gruffly.
“I am unsure. She may wake up and still be the Ava you know, and then it is just a matter of time. Or you may never see that side of her again. It is too hard to predict.”
Sam stood suddenly, and Dean looked at him sadly. “Then we research! There’s gotta be something we can do to help her. You said it, if we leave her alone, it will change her. Maybe there’s a spell or something that we can use to reverse it.  I’ll get started-”
“Sam, there is nothing. Regardless of what happens when she wakes up, she will turn. The only certainty we have is that she must be dealt with before that happens. It will be too late once the change is completed.”
Dean glared at Cas, “What are you proposing? That we kill her? We just saved her. I’m not doing it. There’s gotta be a way.”
Cas tilted his head as he stared at Dean, “Is this because you two fornicated? If you are unable to take on the task, then I will do it myself. We allowed Jesse to go free because of your feelings, I cannot let Ava do the same. She will be even more dangerous than the child.”
Dean stood and moved closer to Cas, “You keep your damn mouth shut-”
“Both of you, stop. Cas, we will take care of it. Dean, Cas is right...we can’t just let her go free,” Sam paused and held his hands up as Dean took a dangerous step towards him, “but I also don’t think we need to kill her. We need to see what happens when she wakes up. We aren’t going to know anything until then. ….Dean, you aren’t going to like this, but I think we need to put her in the dungeon.”
Dean’s mouth dropped open, “Are you freaking kidding me? We just rescued her from being chained up in what was basically a dungeon, and now you’re wanting to do it again? Absofuckinglutely not. No. We will take turns watching her. Sam, take first watch, I’m going to run out and get some supplies so we don’t have to leave for awhile. Cas, maybe go do something useful…” Before Dean could finish his sentence, Cas had vanished. Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation, “Whatever, man. Sam, just...go. I’ll be back in like an hour, if that. Call if you need anything.”
Dean walked off without letting Sam answer and grabbed his jacket as he crossed through the war room and towards the garage. He slipped it on and paused as his fingers brushed something in the pocket. It was a folded piece of receipt paper.
Hey Deano,
Sometimes you need to remember instead of forget. If you ever need anything, there’s a certain foul mouthed Southern girl that’s willing to listen. Don’t be a stranger.
P.S. There’s an apple pie waiting for you if you’re ever back this direction.
Audrey
Her number was neatly printed at the bottom, and he stared at it for a moment before folding the paper up and slipping it back into his pocket.
It occurred to Dean that his life had been much simpler when all he dealt with were monsters.
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