#people wiped well over 3/4 of my case before 10 and we opened at 9 :-) so i fucking had to do the entire case for a second time
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fuck today honestly im so overstimulated i want to throw a full tantrum on the fucking floor
#i’m sick of being at work i’ve been here for 3.5 hours and i’m fucking done dude i don’t want to be here anymore#and yet i’ll be here until fucking almost 5pm so. great#everything keeps going shitty i’m annoyed and pissed and overstimulated as fuck#i had to fucking fix the whole pos bc it got fucked up and the printer and drawer wouldn’t fucking connect#and i just almost spilled my coffee everywhere#it took me 30 mins to even MAKE said coffee due to customers being IMPATIENT#people wiped well over 3/4 of my case before 10 and we opened at 9 :-) so i fucking had to do the entire case for a second time#i also sprayed myself on accident with the fucjign sprayer for the dishes AND the syrup for my coffee bounced off the ice in my cup and got#all over my face and glasses and neck and i just ..i just want to go the fuck home i’m sick of this shit dude#i do NOT get paid enough to deal with how much saturdays make me want to actually kms#i don’t fucking want to do anything else either and im fucking not#the rest of my shift will be me cleaning dishes i made and washing the piping bags and then cleaning and helping customers#im not baking im not doing anything else on the list im fucking mentally drained i can’t#and how fucking nice too thhat i get to have tomorrow off and then come back monday-friday before i finally get to have 3 days off#sooooooooo fun and cool i want to fucking dIE#oh did i mention saturdays i work entirely alone for the whole 8 hour shift
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Ch. 8: To the End of the Line
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
Warnings: slight angst, mentions of loss and being put in the hospital
Steve figured his girlfriend had enough of the battlefield for now, and he was happy she was getting the rest and recovery her body needed. As much as he wanted Elsie in the meeting with him and the rest of the team, he didn’t want her in any more danger than he had put her through.
As an agent guarded Elsie while she slept, Steve, Fury, Hill, Sam, and Natasha discussed their next plan of action in another room.
“This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize,” Fury says as he stares at an old photo of Pierce. “He said peace wasn’t an achievement, it was a responsibility. See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues.”
“We have to stop the launch,” Natasha concludes.
Fury sits up straighter. “I don’t think the Council’s accepting my calls anymore.”
He then opens a case that housed three transparent server blades.
“What’s that?” Sam asks.
“Once the helicarriers reach 3,000 feet,” Hill explains, “they’ll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized.”
“We need to breach those carriers,” Fury continues, “and replace their targeting blades with our own.”
“One or two won’t cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational, a whole lot of people are gonna die.” Her tone was more serious now.
“We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA. We have to get past them, insert these server blades, and maybe, just maybe we can salvage what’s left-”
“We’re not salvaging anything,” Steve objects. “We’re not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We’re taking down S.H.I.E.L.D.”
“S.H.I.E.L.D. had nothing to do with this,” Fury argues.
“You gave me this mission. This is how it ends. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s been compromised. You said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”
“Why do you think we’re meeting in this cave? I noticed.”
“How many paid the price before you did?” Steve questioned him.
Fury goes silent for a moment. “Look, I didn’t know about Barnes.”
“Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that, too? S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA, it all goes.”
“He’s right,” Hill agrees.
Fury glances at the other two in the room, Natasha nodding in agreement with Hill.
“Don’t look at me,” Sam shakes his head. “I do what he does, just slower.”
“Well,” Fury sighs and leans back in his seat, looking back at Steve, “it looks like you’re giving the orders now, Captain.”
Once the meeting is dismissed, Steve has the team rest for a while before beginning preparations to stop HYDRA’s mass genocide. After checking up on Elsie, who was still sleeping soundly, he takes a walk outside, pondering over seeing Bucky again after a very long time. He had accepted the fact that his best friend was gone after waking up from the ice, but seeing him alive and now under HYDRA’s control was a double whammy.
As he stops by the railing looking over the dried up dam, his mind wanders back to when his mother passed away.
1937 Brooklyn. Church bells rang a sad tune in the distance. It was cold out, fitting the sadness that was glooming over him. He was eighteen turning nineteen, and Bucky walked him home after the funeral. Steve was still the small guy he was, but Bucky was pretty buff and could protect him despite Steve always wanting to fight the bullies off himself.
“We looked for you after,” Bucky says as they walk up the stairs to Steve’s apartment. “My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery.”
“I know,” Steve sighs. “I’m sorry. I kind of wanted to be alone.”
“How was it?”
He shrugs. “It was okay. She’s next to Dad.” He wipes his tears from his face as they reach his floor.
“I was gonna ask,” Bucky proposed the idea of Steve coming to stay with his family as he had no one else left.
“I know what you’re gonna say, Buck,” Steve interrupts him as he frantically searches his pockets for his house key.
“We can put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids. It’ll be fun. All you gotta do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash.” He moves the stray brick hiding the extra key and hands it to Steve.
Pondering the idea, the thin boy shakes his head. “Thank you, Buck, but I can get by on my own.”
“The thing is, you don’t have to,” Bucky reminds him and puts a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m with you to the end of the line, pal.”
“He’s gonna be there, you know?” Sam’s voice pulls Steve out of his thoughts.
“I know,” he nodded.
“Look, whoever he used to be and the guy he is now, I don’t think he’s the kind you save. He’s the kind you stop.”
“ I don’t know if I can do that.” It was a large and bitter pill to swallow, even if Bucky could still potentially be saved.
“Well, he might not give you a choice. He doesn't know you.”
Steve looks him in the eye. “He will. Gear up. It’s time.”
Sam puts his hands on his hips. “You gonna wear that?” he half-jokes.
“No,” Steve says as he walks back inside. “If you’re gonna fight a war, you got to wear a uniform.”
When he walks by her bed again, Elsie is awake and in a new agent suit sipping on some tea as she reads something on a tablet. Steve was confused and wondered if she was the same woman sleeping after being on the run for two and half days.
“I thought you were actually sleeping this time,” he says as he enters the bay.
“I did,” she confirms as she sets her cup down on the side table. “Four hour nap, and I’m good to go.”
Steve sighs, a little disappointed that she didn’t sleep longer, but knowing her, she never backed down from a fight. She was Peggy made over with a dash of bubbly added.
Elsie’s face falters. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I just don’t want you in another hospital bed,” Steve sighs and holds her shoulders gently. “I don’t want to lose you.”
He had lost so much in the past already, and the thought of Elsie being on that list of people hurt too much. He never wanted her to be in any danger because of him, but here she was fighting tooth and nail for him and never backing off.
“Steve, my world has been a mess these past few days,” she sighs. “I’ve been shot at, beaten up agents, fallen through glass, been in a bombing, jumped out of a moving car, just things I could never imagine even as a trainee. And in some weird way, it’s been the best adventure.” She pauses and ponders her words. “Okay, maybe not the best adjective, but all of this to say is that if this is what it means to fight for the man I love with my whole heart, then bring on the bullets.”
She cups his chiseled cheek and stares into his baby blues for a moment. He had been through an infinite hell for God knows how long, but if she could walk through the fire with him she’d do it while holding his hand and never letting go.
He breaks into a smile and whispers, “You’re with me to the end of the line?”
She smiles back. “And beyond it.”
…
Since Steve’s suit was destroyed in the Wheaton camp’s bombing, he ended up breaking into the Smithsonian and stealing his old suit from World War II. While it had aged with time, it still fit like a glove. Even Elsie thought the design was sexier than the navy and silver the other suit had.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters was a short hike in the woods away, so Steve, Elsie, Sam, and Hill went that way while Natasha disguised herself as one of the Council members to enter the facility. It was weird to be entering the facility as wanted criminals, but if they succeeded, they could possibly walk away free depending on how their peers reacted. Hill knew a secret way into the facility without being detected, so the four of them sneaked in and took a stairwell to the security room. Using a small device, Elsie scrambled Security’s earpieces, which made someone get up to check it out. When they opened the door, they weren’t expecting the Captain to be standing there along with the other three having their weapons drawn.
“Excuse us,” Steve says calmly, the man getting out of their path with his hands up.
He then finds the PA system while the other three guarded him. Removing his helmet, he presses the announcement button and delivers his message.
“Attention all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents,” he announces, “this is Steve Rogers. You’ve heard a lot about me over the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it’s time you know the truth. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what we thought it was. It’s been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The S.T.R.I.K.E. and Insight crew are HYDRA as well. I don’t know how many more, but I know they’re in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want: Absolute control. They shot Nick Fury, and it won’t end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way. Unless we stop them. I know I’m asking a lot. But the price of freedom is high. It always has been. And it’s a price I’m willing to pay. And if I’m the only one, then so be it. But I’m willing to bet I’m not.”
Steve lets go of the button, and Sam approaches him with a proud smile.
“Did you write that down first?” he half-jokes. “Or was it off the top of your head?”
Multiple gunshots were heard in the distance, and the water in the football field-sized fountain concealing the launch bay began to disperse as the doors began to open. HYDRA was infiltrating and moving forward with their attack. Jet engines were beginning to fire up, and Hill was monitoring everything from a computer.
“They’re initiating launch,” she warns.
Grabbing his shield, Steve straps his helmet back on and prepares for battle with Sam.
“I’m coming with you,” Elsie insists.
“No,” he shakes his head. “I need you here. Find and help other agents to safety. Keep in touch with us and Agent Hill.”
Hill hands her an earpiece and communicator to attach to her wrist. As much as she hated not being able to back him up, she knew she had a duty to do. She would be going into the heat of battle alone, but she wasn’t going to let fear poison her mind.
“Don’t you dare get blown up,” Elsie replies. With one last kiss to his lips, she grabs a gun and sprints her way to the control room.
#mcu#mcu fanfiction#marvel#captain america#steve rogers#oc#captain america x oc#steve rogers x oc#mrs. rogers#agent walker
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I Am Alive (chapter 1/?)
Chapter 1: A Nurse for Androids
Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader
Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content
Synopsis: You were a biomechanical engineer, a fancy way of saying that you repaired androids. After the revolution, you decided to move back to Detroit to offer aid as, essentially, a nurse. After stopping by to visit an old friend, you began to grow attached to his android partner.
Chapters • 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • more coming soon
You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥
"Lieutenant, this place is-"
Connor stopped himself when he caught the look Hank was giving him. It was something akin to a scowl, though his lip was a bit more crooked and his eyes were more annoyed than angry.
"Hank," Connor corrected himself. "This place is-"
"Can it," the detective groaned, knowing full well he was about to get criticized for living in a dump.
Connor caught himself smiling a little, despite the fact he had just been told to shut up. There was something oddly satisfying about getting on Hank's nerves, especially when it was over harmless things. 'Banter' was what it was called.
Hank had been sober since the revolution, and that was nearing six months ago. It was a little difficult for Connor to get a grasp on how that made him feel. 'Proud' seemed to be the word that came up the most in his searches. He was proud of his partner and wanted to congratulate him.
The older detective insisted 'I don't need nuttin' and 'don't buy me no damn gifts' when Connor suggested they celebrate. After some insistence, Hank reluctantly agreed to let Connor help him clean his house. It seemed to go hand in hand with Hank's new resolve: get your shit together, tidy up the place, buy some new fucking furniture.
"Isn't the point of this whole deviant thing to not do stuff for humans?" Hank asked, mopping the kitchen while Connor loaded up 'Hank's crap' in a box to be donated.
"I'm doing this because I want to," Connor insisted. He paused and turned to Hank. "We could test it? Tell me to do something."
Hank leaned against the broom, eyeing the android suspiciously. "Fine. Trim Sumo's nails."
Connor did not even break eye contact. "No."
Hank let out a howling laugh. "Smartass."
The android smiled and resumed what he had been doing. It all made sense, why humans got such a rise in telling people to fuck off, why Hank had no issue telling Connor to 'mind his own damn business' when he scolded him for his choice in food. Free will felt good. Connor had his own apartment, collected a paycheck. He went to work every day because he wanted to.
The doorbell rang and Connor eyed Hank first.
The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders. "Knock yourself out. Probably just some damn door to door salesman."
Connor trotted over to the front door. When he answered , he was greeted by a pretty woman, a few inches shorter than him, with a bright smile and beaming eyes. She had a curious demeanor: like she had knocked on this door dozens of times. Well, you had, it had just been a long time.
Before he could utter a word-
"Holy shit," you exclaimed through a wild grin. You had expected Hank to answer the door. But, a familiar face did instead. His hair was neatly trimmed with just a few devious strands fallen over his forehead, kind brown eyes and a squared jaw. Most guys grew out of their freckles. You were pleased to see that he did not.
His eyes flickered with confusion at the sight of you. It was to be expected, so you didn't overthink it.
Excitement overwhelmed you and you reached forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down into a friendly embrace. He was frozen stiff in the door way, one hand still on the handle while the other hung limp at his side.
"God you got tall," you murmured happily into the space above his shoulder. You pulled back and looked into his confused eyes.
"Cole, don't tell me you forgot your best friend?" you teased. His head tilted slightly and his brow softened.
In the corner of your eye, you could see Hank approaching from the kitchen. When you saw the look on his face, your excitement settled down. He did not look like the police officer you knew growing up. His once clean shaven face was covered in a messy beard. His once neatly trimmed hair was long and shaggy. He had greyed a tremendous amount, likely from stress.
Yet, his kind eyes were the same as you remembered.
"Officer Anderson," you addressed him with a smile.
Hank didn't even have to ponder over who you might be. You were all grown up, sure, but like hell he'd ever forget the kid his kid spent most of his time with. He uttered your name with a sort of fondness that brought you right back to your childhood. However, there was something equally depressing in the way he said it.
"I am very sorry; but, I am not Cole."
Your eyes returned to the young man in front of you, the one you had just embraced. He offered his hand to you. You gawked up at him for a moment, processing what he had just said. It was then that you finally saw it, the solid blue LED on his temple.
Embarrassment flushed your face; so, you took his hand to try to drown it out. "My name is Connor and I am a detective with the Detroit Police Department," he introduced himself proudly.
"I - I'm sorry. That was very rude of me," you apologized, voice so much smaller than it was a few seconds ago. Connor didn't seem bothered at all by what had just occurred.
"Good to see ya', kid," Hank grunted. You nodded at him and forced a smile. Hank did not.
The older detective made a gesture, beckoning you inside. "Why don'tja come in..."
The android, Connor, stepped out of the way and you followed Hank into his living room. It had not changed one bit since the last time you were here: the same shaggy carpets and wrinkly old couch and faded recliner.
He had not said it yet; but, as you took a seat and began to process everything, you knew what was coming. Hank took a seat in his recliner and leaned forward, elbows on his lap. You felt your heart sink into your stomach and blood rush to your ears.
"Cole died, not long after you moved away," Hank explained. "This hunk'a'plastic is my partner." He motioned at Connor with a wave of his arm. "Sorry," he added on gruffly.
He had died... that long ago? And you had no idea... You had grown up, graduated college, lived through a quarter of your life already and Cole was... was gone, had been gone, long before he could experience much of anything.
"Hank - shit - I'm sorry. I came barging in here and-..." Hank waved you down, hoping to calm the storm that was beginning to brew. You continued, however, trying to settle the unease in your voice. "Me being here - it probably brought back painful memories. I should leave."
"Brought back memories, ya. Not painful ones," he replied, tone low, but sincere. "Less you count the time he fell outta the tree and broke his arm. You blamed yourself. So, I had two crying kids. Fucking hell."
His grumpy, yet playful tone, brought a smile to your face, and you choked out a laugh. "It was my fault," you giggled out.
"Yeah, well. That's a'right. He wore that cast like a medal," Hank replied with a soft smile, eyes looking off into nothing for a moment.
"I just wanted to say hi - check in on you guys," you explained, sniffling. You wiped some tears away before standing up. "I'm a mechanic - er, nurse - for androids. Moved back here to help, after the revolution - well, y'know. It's gonna be awhile before we can figure out a healthcare plan for androids."
"Sounds like you got a lot on your plate," Hank replied.
"Well, I'm glad to hear you're still a cop. I imagine you'll be hearing from me a lot - abuse cases, y'know?"
"I'm glad you made something of yourself," the older detective added on, fatherly tone catching you off guard. It forced a sincere smile to your face.
"I better get outta here," you breathed. "Oh! Uhm - here - in case you ever need to get ahold of me." You pulled a card out of your pocket and offered it to Hank before offering another one to the android. You avoided his gaze in the process, but he took the card eagerly.
"I'm mainly gonna be stationed at Thirium Clinic. They just opened a couple weeks ago. Lots of... well, battle wounds and-..." You trailed off when Hank nodding in understanding. Tensions were still running high, violent protests were inevitably going to continue for a very long time.
Hank yanked his wallet out of his pocket and tucked the card away. In the corner of your eye, you could see Connor do the same with the card you handed him. "Thanks, kid. My cell never changed if you still have it."
"Good to know. Thanks, Hank."
"If we meet again, I hope it is under good circumstances," the android - Connor - stated. Your eyes landed on him, a natural response from trained politeness.
You tried not to be overwhelmed by the site of him. He looked like Cole - like Cole had grown up and matured into a handsome young man. His soft brown eyes and freckles clashed deliciously with his sharp jawline. His designers had even put texture in his skin around his mouth and along his jaw and chin, suggesting he shaved every morning. Most androids had flawless skin; but, Connor had visible pores.
"I hope so, too," you replied, forcing your eyes away from his face.
Did Hank know what Connor looked like? He said they were partners. Did Hank choose Connor? Was he made for Hank? Did Connor know what he looked like? You had lots of questions. But, none of them were even mildly appropriate.
"Hank, thank you for letting me bug you for a bit. It was nice."
He smiled a crooked smile. "Sure thing, kid. Now, get off my lawn."
You returned his smile and saw yourself out.
As soon as the door closed, Connor's mouth was open.
"Don't you apologize or any other dumb shit," Hank scolded him.
Connor's mouth made a quiet sound when he smacked it closed.
"Back to work," Hank groaned.
...
...
...
Luck had it that you saw Hank and his android companion less than a week later. It first came in the form of a text from the older detective.
'connor fucked up his hand you working?' was what it read. You replied with a simple 'yes' and two of Detroit's finest were walking through the sliding door to the Thirium Clinic.
When you approached them, Connor had a towel wrapped loosely around his hand, the cotton stained blue from all the thirium that had leaked out of him.
"Hope you didn't expect something fancy," you said shyly as you ushered the boys over to a booth. The place was clearly an abandoned grocery store turned medical office. They had not yet put up any real walls, just portable ones to give the illusion of privacy. Simply put, it was a shit show
Connor sat down and propped his arm on the chair's operating arm. You took a seat next to him, flipped on the hovering light, and carefully removed the towel.
"Really? Have you seen my house?" Hank barked.
You chuckled at that; but, the laughter died off when you exposed Connor's injuries. The sheeting - skin, if you will - was completely torn off Conner's right hand: his palm, the pads of his fingers, even a few inches down his wrist. The wiring was exposed, and you could already spot several that needed to be replaced. His hand felt stiff as concrete, further proving the damage you had feared.
"Shit," you cursed, spinning away from him in your chair to a nearby filing cabinet. You fished out some wires, and continued fishing until you found the right ones for his model.
Connor had remained quite still, you realized, when you came back around. You looked over his arm again, mentally preparing yourself for the path ahead.
"Aside from the obvious missing tissue and thirium loss, it's like nerve damage," you explained over your shoulder to Hank.
"Damn it, Connor," he grunted.
"Sorry, lieutenant," the android replied, intentionally robotic, but with the slightest smirk on the corner of his lip.
You had to choke down a laugh. "I'm glad it hasn't been hurting you, Connor. But, this might," you warned him as you set down the wires.
"I understand," he replied firmly.
He twitched a little when you plucked the first wire. For the rest, he managed to stay still. With how close you were, you could occasionally hear him let out a quiet, sharp hiss, so quiet that Hank was unlikely to hear it. You ended up replacing almost every wire that ran from his digits, through his palm, and down his wrist to the first joint bracket. Listening to him wince in pain never got any easier.
"Finally. Done with the wires," you breathed once the last one was secured. You leaned back and let Connor flex his fingers and twist his hand. He began to rotate his wrist around when you decided to stop him, gently cupping the back of his hand.
You did this all the time; but, you were faintly aware of heat blossoming on your cheeks as you held Connor’s hand. You silently scolded yourself, feeling a little too old to have a silly crush.
"Gotta patch you up, then a thirium transplant," you breathed.
Before it would adhered to an android and take on a skin tone, their flesh was pale, metallic, shiny and sparkly. It was also something between plastic and silicone, and had to be melted.
Hands were detailed, with corners and wrinkles, and much harder to get right than patching a wound on a thigh, which meant it would take a little longer. You had a handheld device that made it easier. It looked almost like a tattoo gun, and allowed you to carefully adhere it over the gaping wounds on his hand.
Normally, you had to ask your patients to be still. Connor seemed to be doing a great job of handling that without needing to be told. As you finished, you watched in awe as the flesh took on the peachy, light color of his factory default skin tone.
With a sigh, you set your tools down and maneuvered over to a nearby storage container holding bags of thirium. You wished one out and handed it to the detective. His levels weren’t low enough to require manual insertion. He could do it a more conventional way.
It was almost funny that androids were designed this way, that their only existing digestive track was to take in more blood. Keeping their thirium levels in the proper range was the closest equivalent they had to the need for nutrients.
Connor smiled gratefully as he took the bag from your hand. “That should be good,” you stated, trying not to feel so bashful beneath his gaze. “Let me know if anything feels wrong in your han-”
It was an unexpected door slam that shattered the moment. Some gasps sounded from the around room, You stood up and looked towards the entrance to see a severely damaged android limping in, a gun in his left hand and his right cradling a wound. He was wearing scraggily clothes that looked unfitting with his prim and proper haircut.
"I want an android doctor!" he demanded, the gun tight in his hand but pointed to the floor. His posture suggested he was scared to use it. However, that did not stop Connor from drawing his own gun.
"Wait," you hissed at him, pushing his arm down.
Connor uttered your name in a scolding tone as you stepped away from the chair and approached the injured android.
You took slow steps towards him, palms exposed in a display of yielding.
"S-stop!" he stuttered, shouting at you. Yet, he didn't point the gun at you.
"Hi. What is your name?" you asked him, not bothering to try and hide your nervousness. Everyone was staring at him nervously, patients near the door scrambling to get away from him.
He hesitated, looking at you with fear in his eyes. "T-Thomas..."
"Hi, Thomas," you replied, trying your best to steady your voice. "I'm sorry but all the nurses here are human. We came here from all over the country to help androids. You don't need the gun."
"No!" he cried out. "I don't want any humans touching me!"
Thomas was not just handsome, he was gorgeous. He had the type of pretty face people dreamt about and bright blue eyes. It didn't take a genius to determine what he was made for.
"Thomas, no one here is going to do anything that you don't want," you spoke to him, firmly. That was easy to say without fear, because it was the truth. "I promise."
You stepped closer, one foot at a time, and kept your eyes on his. You offered your hand and watched the fear slowly melt away behind his eyes.
"H-humans lie," he uttered, choked up, tears threatening to fall.
"I know. I'm sorry, Thomas," you replied quietly. For a moment, you had forgotten that everyone was still staring. "You're free now. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Thomas, I want to help you. But, before I can, I need you to put the gun down."
"I don't wanna go back," he whimpered. He didn't point the gun at you, but he held it as if to declare that he would use it to make sure that wouldn't happen.
"Are they making you work, Thomas? Your owners?" you asked, watching his face contort in agony. His LED was hidden behind his hair; but, when he turned his head, you could see it blaring red.
"They don't own you anymore," you said, firmly, anger shining through. "Please let me help you."
You stepped a little closer and, this time, he lifted the gun enough that it pointed at you. You almost could see down the barrel.
"It's okay to be afraid. I am, t-too, Thomas," you continued, lifting your hands a little higher. He was sobbing, now, fat tears falling down his cheeks, tinted blue from the stress. His hand, gripping the gun, was shaking.
"Y-you're going into shock from lack of thirium. Please, Thomas, please put the gun down and let me save you!"
His grip had weakened; before you could react, a hand came out of the corner of your field of view and grabbed the gun, effortlessly yanking it from Thomas' grasp. The android collapsed onto his knees in a fit of sobbing, clothing soaked in blue that oozed onto the floor.
Connor stood over the android, Thomas' gun now firmly in his grasp. When did he-? That fast... or had you just not seen him sneaking up behind you?
You brushed past Connor and joined Thomas on the ground. You offered your hand again and he stared at it for a moment. He gasped, once, then twice, before finally taking your hand. Another nurse was at your side in seconds and helped Thomas to his feet. The android was babbling on static, on the verge of powering down.
Connor watched you stagger away with the android, his thirium seeping all over you and staining your scrubs. You were still speaking to him in that gentle voice, ushering him to calm down. All the surrounding patrons had relaxed and continued on as they were. Connor was still holding the gun in his hand. It was covered in buildup, likely uncleaned for years; but, it felt heavy, definitely loaded with a full magazine.
He was so hyper-focused on you that he did not even notice Hank approaching. "You alright, Connor?" Hank asked, knocking the android's arm with his own.
"She's amazing," he replied quietly.
Hank laughed at his declaration. "Look at you getting all doe-eyed." Hank clapped a hand over Connor's shoulder and dragged him towards the door. "Come on, Tiger. With your track record, I'm sure you'll be back in here in no time."
...
...
...
Admiration, Connor realized, is what he felt for you. You were smart, independent, strong. He was impressed with the way you handled an agitated android. He was even more impressed by how much you cared about them. Or, maybe flattered was a better word? He didn't quite know. He just knew that he couldn't stop thinking about you.
"Earth to android," Gavin bellowed, snapping his fingers in the android's face.
Connor looked up at him with an unbothered expression. He was seated at his desk and Gavin, apparently, had been leaning over him, trying to get his attention.
"Watching porn in your head or something, tin can?" he suggested with a sneer.
"I was going over the case files, which happened to be far more important than your whining," Connor replied coolly.
Gavin slammed his hands on the android's desk. "There's still a score to settle. Test me, motherfucker," he growled.
"Sure. Name the game," the android replied with a small smirk.
"Quite the pair on ya' for someone with no balls," Gavin said through clenched teeth.
Connor glared at him slightly, a retort bubbling up in his throat. He did, actually. Without the function of human genitalia, but passable for a real pair, so to speak.
"Maybe if you called him by his name, he would answer," another detective suggested, delivering a harsh slap to Gavin's back as he passed by.
Gavin swung around and hollered at the passerby. "Yeah, when I'm fucking dead!"
Connor rolled his eyes and returned to the computer screen in his mind. He was looking at case files, actually. He just wasn't... thinking about them.
"Another human killed by an android. You'd know all about that. So, enjoy," Gavin declared proudly, dropping a file on Connor's desk. He could care less if Gavin spent the rest of his life hating his wires. But, another detective had... defended him? How... odd. But, not unwelcomed.
Connor opened the case file and took a breath that he didn't need.
...
...
...
Coincidences... Perhaps, a glitch in the matrix? Or just pure luck.
The very morning after patching up Connor, you were in line to get coffee with none other than Hank right in front of you.
"You stalking me?" he teased, hands shoved into his coat pockets and breath visible in front of his face. Most of the snow had thawed, but it was still too damn cold outside.
"Probably," you replied dryly. "This place is the only good place in town."
"Great minds think alike," Hank agreed.
It was your turn to order everyone coffees, so you had several on the way. You and Hank waited together, and even after he got his single mug, he still waited alongside you.
"Whatever it is you wanna ask, just ask, kid," he grumbled.
"Just surprised you got an android partner," you uttered, looking away from him nervously.
"I didn't like him at first. He grew on me, and he's a damn good detective," Hank answered, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. "Don't be embarrassed 'bout confusing him with Cole. I'm not oblivious to the way he looks."
You looked over to Hank, who looked oddly peaceful despite what he was saying.
"Those Cyberlife bastards knew he was gonna be partnered with me. I doubt it was an accident."
Your brow shot up at his implication. "Connor was made to be a detective android, then?"
Hank nodded into his drink. "Yep."
"Does he like being a detective?"
"I asked him that once, when he wanted to come back after all the... protests. He said his programming was gone, no more 'lines of code' telling him what to do... but he still wanted to solve crimes. All I can do is hope it's what he wants, and not choosing the path of least resistance."
"Me too," you whispered, far too fondly for your own good. Hank shot you a look; but, luckily, the barista came to your rescue and called out your name.
"Bye, Hank!" you hollered, rushing to the counter to grab your drinks and see yourself out. It wasn't entirely for selfish reasons. The clinic was waiting, after all.
#connor x reader#deviant connor#dbh fanfic#rk800 x reader#deviant connor x reader#connor smut#rk800 smut
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How Could I Hate Her?
Heather Series Part 7
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Bonus! Readers Card Confession Part 6
Summery: When checked on by the team, Reader confesses her guilt ridden feelings
Warnings: Mentions and descriptions of depressive episode, light swearing, mentions of medication, but other than that? Nothing that I can think of?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader
Words: 3.1k
A/N: Y’all.....it is almost 4:30 in the morning. I started writing this around 9 pm. I am committed and I have Criminal Minds to keep me company so its fine. Also, there is much needed fluff in this chapter. I also tried writing in 3rd person, because there were things I wanted to show that I wouldn’t have been able to if I didn’t. I hope you like it! I should have a bonus episode out later today at some point when I wake from the dead, so, enjoy!
~~~~~
It had been two weeks.
Two weeks since anyone on the team had seen or heard anything from y/n.
“I stopped by her place a couple days after, to try and talk to her. I couldn’t even tell if she was on the other side.” Derek remarked.
Aaron, Derek, JJ, Emily, David, and Penelope stood in her office, talking about y/n, and how worried they were.
They all just got back from a case.
Spencer had immediately gotten called away from work by Heather, who claimed it was an emergency. None of the others truly believed it was.
“As icky as it makes me feel, I can check to see if she is still in her apartment, I mean. If the place where she lives has cameras, I can easily check to see if she’s left.”
She looks to Hotch for permission.
He nods his head in approval.
“Has anyone else tried contacting her?”
“I’ve tried calling, but it goes straight to voicemail. She turned her phone off.” JJ chewed at her lip, her mind traveling to the worst possible scenario. A scenario she wouldn’t let happen. Not again.
“Poor kid. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through.” Rossi’s voice is soft, and he leans back against the wall, eyes not really connecting with anything.
“I know Spencer has tried calling her a couple times. But by the look on his face, I don’t think he got very far.” Prentiss paces back and forth, trying to keep herself busy so she doesn’t go kick down y/n’s door herself.
They all knew.
Derek couldn’t keep something like that to himself. And when he told the team, JJ stepped forward, and confessed that she knew. Spencer was in disbelief.
Y/n had come to JJ so often over the past couple of months, Will didn’t question it anymore. Y/n said watching Henry, and being around someone she doesn’t have to compete with helped.
She never really saw her smile like she used to, but JJ did see her relax, let her walls down. She thought y/n was getting somewhere. She was wrong. Some profiler she was.
“You should have seen her guys.” Derek had been the one to see her shut down before his eyes.
“She was shaking. She couldn’t stop crying, shaking. She was mortified that he had heard her. And then she just, stopped. She stopped shaking. The broken look on her face completely vanished. She didn’t say a word to me when she left. It was like she turned herself off.”
“Confessing your love for someone who then tells you they don’t love you the same can do that to a person.” Penelope says, typing away at her screens.
“No, it’s so much more than that.” JJ says, taking a seat in one of Garcias spinning chairs. “ Every time she would say something even remotely mean about Heather, or Spencer, she would shake her head, look up and smile. She shoves it down because she doesn’t want to be bothersome. That kind of burial of feelings can only end in an extreme.” JJ thinks back to every night, every tear shed at her house. How y/n would wipe her tears, shake her head and force a smile.
“I’m in.” Garcia chirps up from her desk, pulling up video footage of a hallway.
They all circle around, prying eyes eager to look inside the private life of their family, who is in desperate need of assistance.
“So, here she is, the day she left, about an hour after leaving the building.”
They watch the video as she walks down her to her door, tears streaming down her face. She takes her keys out, but before unlocking her door, she leans her forehead against the wood.
Her shoulders shake.
A collective sigh leaves all of them.
“And here I am fast forwarding a couple days.” People walk up and down the hallway, yet her door stays still. Until it opens. She taps a key and the video returns to normal, and a forlorn y/n exists, now clad in sweatpants and a cal tech sweatshirt.
“That’s Spencer’s sweatshirt.” JJ whispers, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Penelope fast forwards again, stopping it when y/n appears once again on the screen.
“Okay, she was gone for about, 2 hours and 43 minutes.”
Y/n is holding two bags, one in each hand, though neither of them are very full.
She disappears behind the door, and Penelope fast forwards again. Morgan can be seen a few times, but y/n doesn’t leave again.
“Oh my god. She left once, three days after and hasn’t been out since.” Penelope takes her glasses off, and wipes her face.
“Alright. We’re doing a wellness check. Y/n clearly needs some help right now, so help is what she is getting. Let’s go.”
The team all nodded, and off they went.
When they arrived, Hotch walked to the front desk, his badge already out. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. We’re here to do a wellness check on y/n y/l/n in apartment 112.”
The front clerk doesn’t question it, simply grabbing a set of keys and leading them down the hallway to an elevator.
Each person is in their own head, but when they appear outside of her apartment, their focus changes. It was about y/n now.
“Y/n, are you in there? Baby girl, can you let us in?”
They stand and listen for a shuffling of feet or the sound of a chair, but nothing.
Radio static.
Hotch nods to the man, and he unlocks her door, allowing the team into her apartment.
It’s dark.
That’s the first thing Derek notices as he walks forward. The second is how cold it is.
The third is the glass breaking underneath his boot.
His eyes land on the pile of shards beneath him, and the move to the book laying on the floor, and the broken mirror which still stands on her wall.
He’s trying not to profile her, but it’s hard.
She didn’t even want to look at herself.
The team walks through her apartment, taking in the abandoned bowls of half eaten food, the empty liquor bottles and faint smell of cigarette smoke.
The path leads them to the living room, where y/n is curled up under a blanket on her couch beneath an open window.
Derek walks over and shuts it, his heart aching at the sight before him.
Y/n clutches a pillow to her chest, her grip tight. Unfinished chinese sits in front of her, beside an ashtray filled with buds.
An empty bottle of medication lays on the ground next to her, and he prays to a god he stopped believing in years ago.
She’s mumbling in her sleep, and the team gathers around, varying versions of wet eyes.
Derek is the one to kneel beside her, and place a hand on her shoulder. He’s relieved when he hears her mumbles, feels the warmth beneath his fingers.
“Baby girl. Baby girl, I need you to wake up.” He knows she’ll feel cornered. He knows it’s a lot to wake up to. But he knows she needs this.
She stirs and her eyes open, cloudy and grey. They flick up to him and then around the room, taking in the sight.
She wants to cry.
She begins to move herself in a sitting position, and Rossi can’t help but notice how thin she’s gotten the last couple weeks. She looks tiny compared to Derek. He just wants to hold her, and never let her go.
JJ notices her lips are chapped, and the dark circles under her eyes. She turns and heads towards the kitchen for a glass of water.
“What are you all doing here?” Her voice is hoarse. She hasn’t spoken in days, unless you count the incoherent sentences she sobs at three in the morning.
Aaron wishes he had stepped in sooner. Her hands shake as she moves to brush hair out of her face. She was his daughter, even if not by blood. He doesn’t know how he couldn’t have seen this.
Emily notices the dry wet spots on her t-shirt, and the pillow that now rests in her lap. She bites her lip to keep her own tears at bay.
“Don’t you have more important things to do?” The words are laced with guilt and self-hatred. How can she possibly take them from a case that could be 10 times more important than her?
Derek runs a hand over her head, wishing he could take her pain away in the blink of an eye.
JJ appears with a glass of water.
“You’re family, y/n. We take care of our family.” Penelope falls to her other side, and grabs y/n’s hand, clasping it in between her own.
JJ moves a couple things on her coffee table, sitting down and handing her the glass of water.
Y/n takes it with her free hand, taking a sip from it.
“Sweetheart, when did you run out of medication?” Derek's voice is soft, it almost breaks near the end, but he holds out.
She sniffs, rubbing the back of her hand under her nose. “A couple weeks ago. They’re filled, I just haven’t….I couldn’t…”
She hands the glass of water back to JJ. Her fingers start tapping her thigh.
“Talk to us, y/n. We’re not going anywhere.” JJ starts to cry, but she can’t help it. The situation in which her friend was in, was dark. It was deep. She’s been on the road to where she is for months, and JJ didn’t do anything.
Y/n thought for a moment. About lying, saying she was fine, that she was coming into the office the next day, that she was over it. But she was tired. Tired of running. Tired of lying.
“I love him.” Her voice is wet, flem and saliva coating each word as it leaves her mouth. The sentence isn’t louder than a whisper.
She clears her throat, and grabs the glass back from JJ, taking a longer gulp.
Her head hurt.
No one speaks.
No one moves.
“I love him.” The tears flowing down her cheeks are different from the ones she’s shed the past couple months. They’re warmer, more full. It relieves the stinging behind her eyes a bit.
“I love him, and I can’t help but tell myself over and over how much better she is than me.” She turns her palm over in between Garcia’s and clutches it with every fiber of her being. “Every bad thing I’ve ever thought about myself is ringing through my ears, in her voice.” She chokes on her sobs, and the room is filled with the months of feelings building in her chest.
“I hate her.” The words fall from her tongue and her chest falls. A weight has been lifted.
“I hate her, and I hate that I hate her. Why should I? She’s pretty, she’s accomplished, she makes him happy.” She looks up at Derek, eye’s pleading. “She is everything, and has everything that I can never have or be. And it kills me.”
JJ takes the glass before it slips from her hands, and sets it down, mirroring Penelope and clutching y/n’s hand between hers.
Y/n leans into Derek, and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for a tight embrace, resting his chin on her head.
She cries and cries, and finally after months, she breathes. Her tears stop and she lets the oxygen fill her lungs and she breathes.
For a moment, sniffles throughout the room are all that can be heard. And then Aaron speaks.
“Morgan, I think you should take y/n to go get her meds. A little sunlight and some time out of the house will do her some good.”
She retracts herself from Derek, a slight pink returning to her cheeks. She nods.
“And when you get back, I’ll help you shower.” JJ whispers rubbing her thumb over the back of her hand.
Another nod.
Penelope and JJ let go of her, and she stands.
Penelope notices that she’s wearing the same sweatshirt from the video.
Derek stands with her, one hand on the small of her back, the others holding hers protectively.
“Where are your shoes sweetheart? I don’t want you cutting yourself on the glass.”
“They’re in the kitchen somewhere. I kicked them off and didn’t notice where they landed.”
“Okay. We’ll just be careful, okay?”
Another nod.
The team moves as she does, not crowding her, but never being too far away.
Derek helps her get her shoes and coat on, and leads her out the door.
Once the door shuts, Hotch turns to the others. “Alright. JJ, Emily, start in her bedroom and bathroom. Laundry, bedding, the whole nine yards. Garcia, start in here. I would suggest going through her laptop to see if there's anything we should know about. I know you don’t like it, but in order to make sure she’s safe, we have to.”
The three women nod, and Penelope is already grabbing the laptop that lay at the end of the couch.
“I’ll work on cleaning the kitchen, and David,” He turns to Rossi, already rolling up his sleeves. “I’m sure she doesn’t have much food on hand, and she could probably use a home cooked meal.”
“Say no more. I’m on it.”
~~~~~
The car ride to the pharmacy was quiet.
I can’t say it wasn’t nice to get out of the house. I missed the light.
It was early February, so pink and red hearts decorated the storefront in preparation.
I hated the thought of valentines day during all of this. The thought of what he would be doing for her drove me insane.
It still makes my heart ache.
“What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours, baby girl?”
I shift my focus, turning back to the driver's seat where Derek sat.
“Just thinking about how much I hate valentines day. It’s over commercialized and the guy who named it named it after himself, selfish prick.”
I see Derek chuckle. “That you are right about.”
I let a small smile slide across my face, and for once it’s not forced. I know not everything will be better right away. I know it’s gonna take time. But still.
It feels nice knowing I’m not alone.
We arrive, and he parks.
We sit for a minute in the silence, and his hand reaches over and takes mine in his grasp.
“I want you to know, that you are a million times better than Heather could ever wish to be. And any dude who doesn’t see that isn’t as smart as he appears.”
He turns his body, so he’s fully facing me. “If you ever feel like this again, I want you to call me right away. Even if that voice inside your head is telling you it’s nothing, call me anyway. You’re not alone, y/n. And I will do anything and everything it takes to make you see that.”
I squeeze his hand, and nod. “I promise, Derek.”
“Good. Now let's go get you your medication.”
I nod, letting go of his hand, and releasing the seat belt, and climbing out of the car.
The pharmacist greeted me with my name and a smile, handing me the white paper bag that held a refill that was long overdue.
Before leaving, my eyes caught something inside a soda cooler at the front.
Derek stops and follows my eye. “What is it, love bug?”
I point to a purple bottle. “When I was a kid, and I had a bad day at school, or life just got to be too much, my mom and I would go to the movies, and watch the most cringy, bad looking movie they were showing. We would sit in the back and eat our weight in popcorn while making fun of everything. And she would always get a large grape fanta for us to share.”
He smiles, and steps forward, opening the door, and grabbing a bottle. “I think this constitutes a grape fanta than.”
It’s getting easier to smile at him.
He buys it, and we head back out to the car.
We sit, and he waits until the pill is down my throat, followed by fizzy grape soda. It's tart and sweet at the same time, and I lick my lips of the stickiness.
The music is a little louder on the drive back.
When we enter the door, the first thing I notice is the smell. It smells like Italian, and the best Italian at that.
I walk into the kitchen and I see Rossi, towel over his shoulder and wooden spoon in his hand.
He smiles when he sees me. “Ah, principessa, come. Taste. I know pesto cavatappi is a favorite of yours.”
He ushers me forward, holding out the spoon with a bit of sauce on the end.
I lean forward, capturing the end with my tongue.
“Mmm.” I lick my lips, and chuckle a bit. “It’s really good.”
He smiles, setting the spoon down. “Good.” He wraps his arms around me, and pulls me into his embrace. He kisses the top of my head. “I love you, kiddo. Don’t you ever forget that.”
I smile into his chest. “I won’t.”
“Good. Now go get cleaned up. Dinner is almost ready.”
I nod, setting my soda down on the counter, and walking through my apartment.
It doesn’t even look like mine. It’s lighter and clean, and every shadow that played tricks on my mind are no longer there.
I look around at the apartment, taking note of how much was done in the time I was gone.
The broken mirror no longer hangs on the wall, mocking me. My couch is back to its original position against the wall, and my windows are closed, the curtains open, letting all the natural afternoon light in.
My laptop is set up and a playlist of feel good songs is playing softly through its speakers.
I can’t help myself.
I start to cry, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, looking around at the room.
How could I have not seen this?
“Oh no, you’re crying. What is it? Can I fix it? What can I do? Tell me what I can do?” Penelope rushes over, her hands running over my arm.
JJ, Emily, and Hotch enter at her exclamation. JJ is holding a fresh set of clothes for me.
“They’re good tears, Pen, they’re good.”
The feeling in my chest is warm.
They move around me, hands coming to gently grasp at me.
“I just forgot that I have a family. I don’t know how but I did.”
Aaron smiles at me.
“And man does it feel good to be reminded.”
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#spencer reid#spencer reid series#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x female!reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds series#cm series#cm#heather#conan gray#song fic
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The Revelation of the Other Woman Ch. 16
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15
Chapter Title: Settling in. Pairing: Daryl/oc. Setting: The Prison. Wordcount: 4,837. Warning: None that I can thing of.
After Rick, Daryl and Merle got safely inside the gates we all gathered in the cell block. Daryl, Carol and Beth stood on the perch and catwalk above while Michonne, Glenn, Rick, Maggie, Carl and I stood on the ground below. Hershel sat on the stairs. Merle was locked in the holding room. “We're not leaving.” Rick spoke with finality.
“We can't stay here.” Hershel argued the same case he had been arguing.
“What if there's another sniper?” Maggie asked. “A wood pallet won't stop one of those rounds.”
“We can't even go outside.” Beth spoke up as if what she said wasn't already understood by everyone.
“Not in the daylight.” Carol added.
“Rick says we're not running. We're not running.” Glenn spoke up still playing the part of leader even though Rick was back.
“No, better to live like rats.” Merle spoke up through the bar door holding him back from the rest of us.
“You got a better idea?” Rick asked him.
“Yeah, we should have slid out of here last night and lived to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn't we?” Merle asked. “I'm sure he's got scouts on every road out of this place by now.”
“We ain't scared of that prick.” Daryl spoke up from the catwalk, but I didn't even bother looking at him.
“Y'all should be. That truck through the fence thing? That was just him ringing the dinner bell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he's got the guns and the numbers. And if he takes the high ground around this place, shoot, he could just starve us out if he wanted to.” As much as I hated to admit it, Merle had a point.
“Let's put him in the other cell block.” Maggie said ringing a rag in her hands.
“No. He's got a point.” Daryl said.
“This is all you. You started this!” Maggie yelled at Merle who wasn't affected by it.
“What's the difference whose fault it is?” Beth spoke up loudly. “What do we do?”
“I said we should leave. Now Axel's dead. We can't just sit here.” Hershel said for the millionth time and Rick started to walk off. “Get back here!” he yelled at the ex-cop who stopped, but didn't turn to look at the old man. “You're slipping Rick. We've all seen it. We understand why. But now is not the time. You once said this is not a democracy. Now you have to own up to that. I put my family's life in your hands. So get your head clear and do something.”
After Hershel yelled at Rick he just stared at him for a second then walked off. With him gone, people scattered. Most went to their cell's so that's what I did as well. I wiped the dust off of the metal mirror and looked at myself for the first time in months. Dark circles shadowed my eyes, my skin was darker than it used to be from the amount of sun I'd gotten during the winter and my hair had grown two inches, now touching my shoulders. I didn't look like the me I remembered. I was still studying myself when I heard someone clear their throat and looked over to see Daryl standing with his arm propped up on the door frame.
A pain shot through my chest at the way he was looking at me. With hard eyes and straight lips that gave nothing away. He was different than I remembered, everyone was. I guess we'd all changed over the winter. “Whatever you're selling I don't want any.” I told him emotionlessly and crossed my arms over my chest.
“That your way of tellin' me to go away?” he asked quietly.
“If you're going to call me more names...yeah. That's exactly what I'm telling you.” I said as I sat down on my bed, pulled my legs up and hugged my knees to my chest.
“I ain't good at sayin' sorry.” he said quietly looking more like his old self.
“Good then don't say it. 'Cause I don't want to hear it.” I practically growled at him still hugging my knees to my chest.
“Joanna, I really am-”
“No.” I interrupted him letting go of my knees to scoot to the edge of the bed. “You don't get it. I dreamed about you. Every night that we weren't together was another dream that had you in it.” His face flushed at my words and it was cute, but it didn't put a damper on my anger. “At first they were nightmares. I blamed you for me getting left behind and stuck with that bitch Andrea. But then I realized that you told me to stay behind because you wanted me to be safe and I stopped being mad at you. The nightmares turned to good dreams. I would be hunkered down in a house somewhere and you would find me or vice versa.” my voice was shaking holding back tears. “We would find each other, you would wrap those amazing arms of yours around me and give me the best kiss of my life.” a tear slid down my cheek as I watched him cross his arms over his chest and lean back against the wall.
“Then imagine my surprise when my wildest dream came true. You found me, hugged me and kissed me and...” I closed my eyes and smiled sadly at the memory of his arms around me and his lips on mine. “Damn it that felt heavenly.” I opened my eyes and let the smile fade as I glared at him again. “So stupid me, I think that means you actually missed me as much as I missed you, that you wanted me back. But then your brother comes in the picture and you no longer give a damn about me. I'm just some weak, uppity, booty call. And you leave.” my eyes glared at his hand to his mouth, chewing on his cuticles. “That hurt.” I glared at him with tears slipping down my cheeks. “I never thought you would hurt me. So don't expect me to jump into your arms at the first “I'm sorry.” because it ain't gonna happen.”
He just stared at me for a second as if he were trying to think of something to say before he nodded and walked out. A few minutes later I heard people talking down stairs, practically under my cell so I walked out on the catwalk to see what was going on. “I didn't see any snipers out there, but we'll keep Maggie on watch.” Rick said to everyone.
“I'll get up in the guard tower, take out half them walkers, give these guys a chance to fix the fence.” Daryl suggested.
“Or use some of the cars to put the bus in place.” Michonne suggested.
“We can't access the field without burning through out bullets.” Hershel added.
“So we're trapped in here. There's barely any food or ammo. Glenn added not helping one bit. Honestly his negativity was grating to everyone.
“We've been here before. We'll be all right.” Daryl tried.
“That's when it was just us. Before there was a snake in the nest.” Glenn directed at Daryl.
“Man, we gonna go through this again?” Daryl asked, getting in Glenn's face. ?Look, Merle's staying here. He's with us now. Get used to it.” he looked up at me then at the rest of the group. “All y'all.”
“Seriously, Rick, I don't think Merle-” Glenn started, but I interrupted him.
“Just stop it Glenn.” I spoke up from the cat walk as Daryl came up the stairs. “No one likes him being here, but as much as I hate to admit it, we need him. He knows The Governors tactics and he has military training. So just get off your high horse and deal with it.”
Glenn looked from me to Rick. “I can't kick him out.” Rick said with a shake of his head.
Rick's words seemed to piss Glenn off even worse than mine did. “I wouldn't ask you to live with Shane after he tried to kill you.” Glenn's words pulled a look out of Rick and I tilted my head at Glenn's words. Shane tried to kill Rick?
“He may be erratic, but don't underestimate his loyalty to his brother.” Hershel defended.
“What if we solve two problems at once?” Glenn asked. “Deliver Merle to the Governor. Bargaining chip. Give him his traitor, maybe declare a truce.”
“No.” I said as I walked down the stairs to be a better part of the conversation. “We're sacrificing people now?” I asked with a twisted faced look at Glenn. “Delivering him to The Governor will be no different than leaving him on that roof to die. We couldn't do that back then and we can't do this now.”
“Who put you in charge?” Glenn asked.
I leaned back and raised my brows. “I could ask you the same question mister high and mighty.”
“Guys, cut it out.” Hershel cut off our building argument. “Look, Glenn, Joanna's right. That's not who we are.”
“We're not gonna figure this out now. Let's take a break.” Rick suggested and Glenn and Hershel walked off. Rick jerked his head for me to follow him to his cell so I did. “What all happened out there over the winter? I know you said Michonne found you two while you were running from the farm, but I don't know much more than that.” he asked as he sat down on his bed.
I sat down in the chair in the room with a sigh. “Not a whole lot up until Woodbury. I answered vaguely. Just a lot of running, scavenging and hunkering down for as long as we could. Michonne and I are pretty good friends, we don't communicate a lot, but we work well together. She and Andrea got closer though.” I said with a shrug.
“What about you and Andrea?” he asked looking curious.
“Oh we still hate each other as much as we always did, if not more now.” I said with a small laugh before it faded. “Bitches can't befriend bitches I guess.”
“You're not a bitch.” he said with a shake of his head.
“Really? Because I feel like one after the things I just said to Daryl.” I said looking up from the floor to his blue eyes. I had forgotten how blue they were and the fact that I was apparently a sucker for them. His and Daryl's... the same color yet so different. “But that doesn't matter. What about you and the rest of the group? There's some things I've been wondering since I got here.”
“Like what?” he asked and I sat up straighter.
“Like I hear Shane tried to kill you?” I asked and he nodded with a sigh.
“The night the walkers came through and we all got separated, he killed Randall to lure me into the woods and kill me.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I killed him first.” he said before his dropped his hand and looked at me. I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. “He wanted Lori, thought killing me was the only way to get her and Carl.”
“I'm sorry you had to do that.” I said and he waved me off. “So... I have to ask based off the way Beth spoke to me, did you and Lori ever work things out?”
He shook his head no. “What did Beth say to you?”
“She blames me for Lori's death.” he just tilted his head in confusion. “I guess she thinks that if I had never...been, with you that you and Lori would have been happier. I guess in her mind if you two were happier then you would have been there to save her or something.”
Rick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Those aren't only her thoughts...” when he lifted his head to look at me I tilted my head to the side in a questioning manner. “She's just copying what I've heard Carl say.”
“Wait, Carl's mad at me too?” I asked getting tired of being everyone's whipping post.
“Yeah.” Rick sighed and dropped his hand from his face. “He didn't put two and two together until recently...after Lori...”
“I don't know how to handle this... Should we talk to him, try to explain things?” I asked as I shook my head in confusion.
“No, I'll talk to him and Beth. You don't deserve all that hate.” he said as he stood up.
“No, I think it's totally justified.” I sighed as I stood up as well. “I'm a home wrecker.”
“You know that's not true. Lori and I had our problems long before you even came along.” he said taking a step closer to grab my hand.
“I know, but...” I said giving his hand a small squeeze. When I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye I looked out of the cell to see Daryl walk by and glance in our direction. His stopped when he saw Rick's hand in mine and shook his head. I could hear a scoff as he walked off.
I dropped Ricks hand and scratched the back of my head. “What else have you been wondering about since you got back?”
“Daryl and Carol.” I said crossing my arms over my chest
“What about them?” he asked.
“She seemed really upset to hear that he didn't come back and then she blamed me for him leaving like I pushed him into it or something.” I said and he just looked at me. “Are they...together?” I cautiously asked.
“Honestly, I don't know. It's hard to tell with him.” Rick answered with a shoulder shrug. “You'll have to ask one of them.” I sighed and placed my head in my hands. He placed his hand on my back. “Hey,” I looked up at him and he gave me a small smile, “If I hadn't said it yet I'm glad you're alive.”
I gave him a small smile in return and he engulfed in a hug. “I'm glad you're alive too.” I said with a small laugh then pulled out of the hug. His hands lingered on my neck and mine on his sides. In a split second every tender intimate moment we'd ever had flooded my mind. Then came the bad memories and all the arguments. That made me remember why I chose Daryl, why I love Daryl more than anything or anyone. So I let him go and gave him a sad smile. “Thanks for filling me in. I'm gonna go to my cell and try to process things.” he let me go without a word.
Daryl's cell was on the way to mine and Carol's voice made me stop just outside of it. “This is a tomb.” I heard Daryl say as I made sure I couldn't be seen by them.
“That's what T-dog called it. I thought he was right till you found me.” Carol said and it got quiet for a few seconds. “He's your brother, but he's not good for you. Don't let him bring you down. After all, look how far you've come.” she said making him laugh. God how I'd missed that sound. It got quiet and I was about to go to my cell when Carol's words stopped me. “I've never thought Joanna was good for you either. She's too weak, those panic attacks of hers...they'll only slow you down and make you weak.” I felt my teeth grind together as I bit down, forcing back more tears and made myself walk by as if I hadn't heard a thing.
About an hour later I heard some one approach my cell and I thought it would be Daryl or Rick, but instead, it was Merle. “What do you want?” I asked sitting up to pull my knees to my chest.
“Just thought that if we're gonna be under the same roof, we should clear the air.” he stated and I just stared at him. “The whole hunting you two down thing... that was just business. Carrying out orders.”
“Sure, whatever, just don't hurt my people.” I said and he just smirked at me. “What?”
“Good taste.” he answered making me immediately think of what he said back at Woodbury. How his brother had good taste. He just smirked again as he walked away.
I was still in my cell when I heard Rick yell for Daryl, Merle and some others to join him outside because Andrea had been spotted. So I ran out behind Michonne and watched as Rick let her in a treated her like the traitor she was. He pushed her to her knees and took her things before she confirmed that she was alone and she was eventually let into the prison, but just the holding room. Andrea greeted Carol first. “Hershel, oh my god.” she sighed, spotting the old man's lack of a limb. “I can't believe this.” she said as she looked around the room and let go of Carol. “Where's Shane?” he asked still looking around the room before she looked at Rick.
“Why should you care? You're sleeping with The Governor now right?” I asked earning a glare from her before she looked at Rick who simply shook his head and looked away from her.
“And Lori?” she asked and Rick just gave her a hard look.
“She had a girl. Lori didn't survive.” Hershel spoke up.
“Neither did T-Dog.” Maggie added and I made a mental note to find out exactly how he died.
“I'm so sorry.” she said before her eyes landed on Carl. “Carl...” the boy just glared at her sympathy. Then she turned to Rick. “Rick I-” she started to walk over to Rick but he backed away from her. So she looked around the room at other people. “You all live here?”
“Here and the cell block.” Glenn answered.
“There?” she asked pointing to the door to the cell block. “Well, can I go in?” she asked.
Rick stepped in her way. “I won't allow that.”
“I'm not the enemy here, Rick.” Andrea defended.
“No you're just sleeping with the enemy.” I said and this time she didn't even look at me.
“We had that field and courtyard until your boyfriend tore down the fence with a truck and shot us up.” Rick said still standing in her way.
“He said you fired first.” Andrea defended.
I wanted to point out that he was a liar, but I knew I wasn't the person to point that out. She wouldn't listen to me. She never did. “Well, he's lying.” Rick answered and she just stared at him.
“He killed an inmate who survived in here.” Hershel spoke up.
“We liked him. He was one of us.” Daryl said making her attention turn to him.
“I didn't know anything about that.” Andrea said with a head shake. “As soon as I found out I came. I didn't even know you were in Woodbury until after the shoot-out.” she said looking around at everyone.
“That was days ago.” Glenn said and now I agreed with his angry tone.
“I told you I came as soon as I could.” Andrea defended herself and looked around at everyone just to be met with glares and looks of mistrust. She turned to me “What have you told them?” she asked angrily.
“I didn't have to tell them anything.” I said from where I sat at the metal picnic table.
“You poisoned them with lies about me.” she yelled.
“She hasn't bad mouthed ya.” Daryl of all people defended me from where he sat at the table across the room from me.
“I don't get it. I left Atlanta with you people and now I'm the odd man out?” she asked getting mad at everyone.
“He almost killed Michonne and he would have killed us.” Glenn started.
“With his finger on the trigger.” Andrea yelled with a point at Merle. “Isn't he the one who kidnapped you? Who beat you?” she asked then sighed and placed her head in her hands for a second. “I cannot excuse or explain what Philip has done. But I am trying to bring us together. We have to work this out.”
“There's nothing to work out.” Rick said cutting her off. “We're gonna kill him. I don't know how or when, but we will.”
“We can settle this.” she said taking a step closer to Rick.
“God, Andrea!” I yelled at her. “When are you going to open those ignorant eyes of yours and realize that there is no settling this. He will not stop until we are dead, that is just the kid of man he is. Merle kidnapped us, but it was under the orders of your boy toy. He is sick and twisted.” I said walking over to get in her face.
“There is room at Woodbury for you.” she said not giving up on the idea of peace.
“You're blind as a freaking bat.” I scoffed and walked back to the table.
“There's room for all of you.” she said looking around at everyone now.
Merle laughed at her. “You know better than that.”
“What makes you think this man wants to negotiate?” Hershel asked. “Did he say that?”
“No.” Andrea answered.
“Then why did you come here?” Rick asked.
“Because he's gearing up for war. The people are terrified. They see you as killers. They're training to attack.” Andrea warned.
“I'll tell you what. Next time you see Philip, you tell him I'm gonna take his other eye.” Daryl warned back.
“We've taken too much shit for too long.” Glenn spoke up. “He wants a war? He's got one.”
Andrea turned to Rick. “Rick? If you don't sit down and try to work this out, I don't know what's gonna happen. He has a whole town.” she heaved out a breath as she turned toward us. “Look at you. You've lost so much already. You can't stand alone anymore.”
“You want to make this right, get us inside.” Rick said walking around her to be in her line of sight.
“No.” Andrea said shaking her head rapidly.
“Then we got nothing to talk about.” Rick walked around her.
“There are innocent people.” she yelled after him trying to get him to stop.
With Rick gone Michonne and Andrea went outside to talk. So with her out of the way I went back to my cell.
I don't know when she left, I didn't go see her off like everyone else did. I didn't even leave my cell until I heard everyone getting together down stairs and the smell of warm food hit my nose. It turned out to just be rice, cooked with a chicken bullion cube for flavor. It wasn't much, but I sat on the floor next to Michonne to eat it. Not long after I finished my bowl Beth started singing. After listening to the song enough to recognize a pattern and pick up the chorus I started to sing along. “You gotta hold on, hold on. You gotta hold on. Take my hand I'm standin' right here. You gotta hold on.” I sang back up catching a few people's attention, but I didn't look at them. Beth glared at me, but I ignored her too. She wasn't going to put a damper on my fun.
When the song was over most people turned in for the night. So I followed suit. As I passed Daryl's cell he spoke up, stopping me. “So it's you and Rick again, huh?”
I stopped and leaned my back against the frame of his door. "Maybe." I replied with a shoulder shrug.
"I ain't interested in none of your games." He practically growled as he sat up on the side of his bunk.
"Are you and Carol together?" I finally asked and he looked at me like I was crazy. "She was more broken up about you leaving the group than everyone else and people around here seem to put your names together a lot. On top of that you two were close at the farm, so what am I supposed to expect when I find you." I explained deciding to leave out the fact that I heard her badmouthing me and Daryl didn't defend me. He just stared at me, biting his nails. “Was I supposed to expect you to just wait around for me to show up out of the blue? I mean as much as I missed you and longed to be with you I supposed you would move on at some point.”
"Did you move on?" He answered flatly.
“Oh, yeah, didn't you hear? Andrea, Michonne and I got real cozy on the road together.” I popped off and he rolled his eyes at me with a scoff. “No, I didn't.” I answered truthfully. “Have you?”
“Na. She's just a friend.” he answered quietly.
“Good.” I told him with a nod and pushed off of the door frame to walk away.
“You gonna give me a straight answer 'bout you and Rick?” he asked stopping me and I turned to see that he had stood up.
“He's just a friend.” I answered with a sigh. “Now if you don't mind I'd like to get some sleep.” I started once again to walk off but he grabbed my hand pulling me to a stop.
“Sleep here.” he suggested, not dropping my hand.
“Why, so I can be your booty call?” I asked sarcastically.
He bit his lip and shook his head. “Cause I love ya, Woman.”
“W-what?” I asked too shocked for his words to fully sink in.
“Come on, I ain't good at this shit, don't make me say it again.” he practically begged.
What he had done and what he had called me...it was all washed away by those three little words. Three little words that when said separately or with other words between them meant nothing. But when one sentence was composed of just these words they seemed to heal the worst of wounds and mend broken hearts. So what did I do when they finally sank in?
Laughter burst from my lips and I fell back to lean against the door frame again. When I managed to stop laughing I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “Even in my best dreams you never said that.” I whispered then looked at him to see him looking at me like if I rejected him he would crack. “I love you too.”
A smile spread across his lips as he closed the space between us grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into him. The kiss was hard and passionate. A moan escaped my lips when his tongue found mine starting a battle with no winner. His hand moved from the back of my head to grip my sides and lift me up and pin me to that wall. My legs wrapped around his waist and my fingers embedded themselves into his soft hair.
Thirty minutes later we lay on his bed sweaty and breathless, but still tangled together like an unkempt line of string. “How do you do that?” I asked, not looking at him, but comparing the size of our hands instead.
“Do what?” he asked quietly.
“Make me lose my mind but stay perfectly grounded at the same time.” I said and he scoffed at me.
“Ya ain't makin' since.” he grumbled sleepily.
“Yeah, I guess my minds still a little lost.” I chuckled as I dropped his hand and rolled over to look at him. “It has to be, because I feel crazy for giving you a second chance.” I explained, resting my hand on his taunt chest. “I felt something for you before, I wasn't sure what it was, if it was love or lust or if it was just simply trust, and companionship. So when you told me I was nothing to you and chose to leave me, it hurt but I lived. Barely, but I did. And now, after tonight, after we said what we said? You have my heart, you're capable of destroying me.”
“Ain't gonna do that.” he promised, low and gruff as he placed his hand on my cheek and ran his thumb over my cheekbone. “Can't make the same mistake twice.” from my face his hand slid down to my neck where he touched the mark his brother had left on me. “Let's get some sleep, missed havin' ya by my side.”
I smiled to myself as I tuned my back to him and he tossed his arm over my side. “Goodnight, Daryl.”
“Night, Ballerina.”
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I’ll Save You from the Pirates
Click here to read the entire fic on AO3
Katara made sure everything was zipped and buttoned before stepping out of the small control building. She was grateful for the early morning survey trip; being in the South Pole brought in a lot of things too close for comfort.
The village she had selected for the initial drilling was on the northern side of the mountains watched over her childhood. On an especially clear day in summer, it was possible to see the far distant peaks of the Air Nation archipelago.
Or else, that’s what she assumed those smudges on the horizon were.
Shaking her head, Katara forced a smile at the workers waiting for her at the dock. She assumed she had a touch of midnight sun sickness, since her body was used to the perpetual darkness of the northern winter at the moment. Even with the new simulated nighttime, Katara was not adjusting as quickly as she had hoped.
It made her head feel like a balloon despite her body feeling sluggish.
“Shall we?” Katara asked, looking from man to man. They were unfamiliar to her, but so were many of the people she met in the South Pole.
The only time she had ever left her village was the once. And she hadn’t properly returned from that trip.
A lifetime ago, Katara had stepped onto a different sort of rickety boat. This one was made of metal, required some sort of crew to operate, and was probably more likely to survive a squall in the open ocean.
But her head still rocked violently when she was fully onboard.
“Gum, Majesty?” One of the men offered. Katara smiled in a closed lipped, queasy sort of way. Taking the thin rectangle of foil, her fingertips felt numb while unwrapping it. The gum was a pale pink, like the meat of any arctic fish.
That image didn’t help her head.
Her jaw worked slowly, feeling the gum nearly disintegrate between her teeth. The flavor was odd, but there was enough mint to calm her a bit.
Sitting on a box of supplies, Katara looked over the edge as the ship pulled away from the dock. The Beifong representative had been complaining of pirates for weeks. Small, quick boats that harassed their supply ships. Usually the attacks were pointless; the expensive equipment had been installed months ago. But medical supplies, shelf stable food, and other minor sundries were beginning to add up on the list of pirated goods.
Fire Nation engineers weren’t bothered by the pirates. Many of them were former military and were not at all subtle over their wish to interact with sea bandits.
Not to be inferred as wanting to fight Water Tribals of course, your Highness.
They were a congenial sort, in their own way.
As they continued on, Katara rubbed her eyes. A migraine was building at her forehead and she called up the cold water to attempt to heal it.
The brain was tricky, and sometimes she had trouble healing herself as she often didn’t think it was bad enough to worry over. Pressure pounded, but the pain stayed as that cloudy prophecy of worse to come.
In her mouth, the gum quickly lost its flavor, so Katara spat out the wad into her palm. The pink was long gone, and the wrinkled gray lump looked foul.
“What even was that?” She muttered and turned around. The man who offered her the gum was standing next to her, a bag in his hands.
Thinking it was trash, Katara moved to shake out the used gum.
The bag went over her head.
When she came to, the sun was setting. This meant two things: that she had been unconscious for a very long time and that they were no longer in South Pole waters.
And noting that she was also in a straight jacket, bound to a tree, Katara figured she was in the Earth Kingdom.
The pirates, as she assumed them to be, were near enough by that Katara could see them at their small fire. The light faded before it got to her, and so she couldn’t make out faces or words.
Looking around, and trying to shift into a comfortable position, Katara knew she was in the woods and far from the ocean. The straight jacket kept her arms and hands from bending, and her legs were shackled tightly together.
Rohan had told her stories about how the late King Bumi could earthbend by wriggling his eyebrows, but Katara wasn’t that skilled. Yet.
Sighing, Katara looked back at the fire.
Historical pirates had been her people, but they were effectively wiped out during the war. Airbender Bumi had created his Sky Pirates, and now they had been replaced by Earth Kingdom citizens. A counterclockwise Avatar cycle.
Bound and still feeling sick, the night air was at least steadying her senses. But she really didn’t know what to do next.
And yet, she really didn’t feel the need to plan. The situation almost made her feel calm. It took the sudden figure behind her to tell her why.
“I’ll save you from the pirates.” A soft voice whispered into her ear.
Katara snorted, turning it into a sneeze in case she was overheard. She was, and one of the pirates got up to investigate.
“Oh no. A ruffian approaches. Whatever shall I do.” Katara said robotically.
The man frowned as he neared.
“Don’t think of calling for help.” He said.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Katara replied and smiled broadly.
“You think something’s funny? I’d like to see you try your bending now.” He said.
“Neither of us needs bending to kick your ass.” The shadowed man said.
The pirate straightened just as the hilt of a sword smashed into the side of his head. The man collapsed as his assailant moved into the dusky light.
The blue oni mask sent electricity through Katara’s veins.
“Let me help you out.” Zuko said, crouching next to her and slicing through the straps.
“You might want to focus on them.” Katara said, wiggling out of the restraint.
Zuko stood and turned, separating his dual swords and rotating his wrists to loosen them.
“Be right back my love.” He said and darted forward.
Katara watched as closely as she could, shoulder off the straightjacket. Zuko moved quickly, as he always did, and many of the pirates were unable to even reach their guns. Those that did nearly lost a hand before Zuko knocked them prone.
To her surprise, there was an actual Earthbender among the group and Katara wondered if she should intervene. She was working on the shackles on her ankles when the cannonball of earth slammed Zuko into a tree. But the Blue Spirit leapt back onto his feet and kicked debris into the Bender’s face. By the time Katara snapped off the frozen metal, the Bender was face down on the ground.
Zuko paused to put out the small fires made when he kicked their cook fire before walking back to Katara. He held out his hand to help her up and she dusted off the back of her pants as he sheathed his unified sword.
“How did you get here so quickly?” She asked.
“Sokka helped.” He explained.
“But this?” Katara questioned, gesturing to his costume.
“I had plans.”
“Plans?” She stepped in close, running her fingers along the edge of his mask. “Did it involve a veil?”
“For you it involved only veils.” He answered, putting a warm hand on her lower back.
“KATARA!” A man’s voice bellowed and they jumped apart.
“My dad?” Katara choked out.
“It would make sense that others would be responding to this incident, yes.” Zuko said stoically, like he was also just realizing this.
“You need to go.” She hissed, shoving at Zuko’s side.
“Where?” He whispered back. “I don’t really know where I am!”
“KATARA!” Hakoda called again, much closer now.
“They can’t see you! You’re a wanted man!” Katara continued to shove, but Zuko didn’t move.
“My boat is that way!” He said, pointing past her to where Hakoda’s voice had come.
“KATARA!” Hakoda sounded desperate, and it actually raked at Katara.
“You have to get-” She stopped as she heard multiple people run into the clearing.
“GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!” Hakoda yelled. Katara turned, spreading her arms wide.
“He saved me dad!” She yelled back.
Hakoda halted and looked around. Seeing the very recent carnage, Hakoda made quick gestures. The others with him ran forward, securing the unconscious pirates.
“Who are you?” Hakoda asked cautiously, walking slowly up to them.
“This is the Blue Spirit. I’ve actually met him before, during the war.” Katara explained haltingly. She lowered her arms and glanced upward. “He’s….mute?”
“Well then.” Hakoda was awkward and his words were just as fumbled. “Thank you.”
He then made a sort of pained face, tilting his head slightly. “Are you really a spirit?”
“Probably not.” Katara said and heard Zuko huff behind his mask.
“At least, the Fire Nation thinks he’s just some traitor.” She added.
“I haven’t much cared for the opinion of the Fire Nation.” Hakoda muttered and Katara frowned.
“But I thank you for rescuing my daughter.” He continued. “Man or not, I must thank you properly for your help. It’s my duty as a chief, and a father.”
As Katara started to protest, Zuko moved from behind her and bowed. It was a modified gesture from the typical Fire Nation salute. It was meant to show respect to other nations.
“Great, now we can see what a spirit eats.” Katara growled, her jaw clenched.
“You know, we should hope he is a spirit.” Hakoda said as they started to walk in the direction Katara assumed the boats had moored.
“Why’s that?” Katara asked in exasperation, knowing Zuko would want to ask himself.
“You said you’ve met before. I don’t think the Fire Lord would appreciate the competition.” Hakoda finished.
Zuko huffed again and Katara sighed.
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Damienette arranged marriage: part 26
Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 part 14 part 15
part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21
Part 22 Part 23 Part 24
part 25
Damienette arranged marriage: part 26
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“Hold still girl if you want to see your friend and yourself walk out of here alive!” Mayura threatened her. To enforce the point made by his partner, Hawkmoth pressed the blade closer, drawing some blood. A single droplet traveled along the edge and hit the floor. The heroine felt her whole body go stiff with fear. She silently accepted her fate when suddenly there was an ear-piercing cry of pain behind her. The blade, together with hand that was holding it, fell to the ground. Hawkmoth stumbled holding the stump that used to be his hand. Behind him Damian wiped the blood from his blade.
“Leave. My Wife. Alone!” He barked and turned to Mayura. “The game is over.”
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Hawkmoth was really glad that his miraculous stopped the bleeding immediately. But at the same time the pain was almost making him see stars. So she married a batbrat…
Mayura immediately let Luka go and rushed to Hawkmoth to help him. She tried to lift him, but she was stopped when a cold blade was pressed to her neck.
“I wouldn’t try it. He will need immediate medical attention once his transformation wears off.” Robin said through the gritted teeth. “Try not to join that list.”
Marinette was still in shock of the events that just occured, but she grabbed her yo-yo and tossed it up. “Miraculous Ladybug!” A swarm of magical energy traveled everywhere around and fixed everything, including Hawkmoth’s hand, but he was still without his weapon while Mayura was at the sword’s pointy end. The heroine walked to the defeated pain. “Gabriel Agreste, Nathalie Sanscoeur, As the Great Guardian of Miraculous I hereby renounce your right to miraculous you have abused.” With that, she plucked their jewels away. The two Kwami were ejected from them and looked at the girl with clear relief. She then turned away to collect other miraculous when suddenly a knife went through her. Adrien was standing there with fury in his eyes.
“You’ve chosen some random american hero over me?! What does he have that I don’t!? You are a monster!” He spat at the girl. He was about to grab her miraculous when a chakram hit him and pushed him back. He stumbled and fell on the ground. Damian was about to rush him and gutter him open, but Nathalie used the distraction to tackle the hero and looked at the blond boy.
“Run! Run and don’t look back!” She shouted and turned back to the wrestle match against Robin. She was winning until other heroes didn’t come at her aid. Adrien grabbed the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous and run as fast as he could. He jumped into the platform and traveled to the underground compound. Spoiler was about to jump after him, but she turned her attention to where Ladybug laid.
Marinette had a knife going through her chest, about right where her heart was. Damian punched Nathalie hard enough for her to get knocked out cold and run to his wife.
“Angel! Can you hear me?!” He held her close.
“Dami…” She was too weak to actually say his full name. “Did… did…”
“You did it angel!” He cried loudly. “Hawkmoth and Mayura are both no more! Everything is going to be fine.”
“I… thank… you…” She managed to spit out. While she was not bleeding, having a pierced heart would still kill her slowly. He also suspected her lungs were damaged given her irregular breath and troubles with speaking.
“Save your strength. The help is on the way I am sure.” He tried to comfort her. The certainty in his voice almost convinced him that it will be okay.
“The t-time… with you…” She had to make a break in the middle of the sentence, but she grabbed his hand tighter. “was best… in my life…” She pressed his hand to her stomach tighter.
“And we will have more time together angel. Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me damn it!” He cried.
Gabriel took advantage of the commotion and tried to sneak away, but the Gorilla stepped in his way. “Nuh Nuh.” He grumbled while shaking his head before he hit his former boss on the head like a whack-a-mole game.
Finally, the transformation surrendered and Tikki was forcefully expelled from the earrings. Blood started to fall from the wound.
“Oh Marinette! I am so sorry! I…” The kwami moaned.
Damian stopped speaking. He just looked at his wife. She was so little, smaller than even him. He contemplated pulling the knife, but it would be pointless.
“Can you… Can you heal her?” Sabine asked the Kwami.
“I don’t know. Oh Marinette!” Small goddess of creation nuzzled into the neck of now passed out girl. The pulse was still there, but it was getting weaker with each passing second.
Damian took off his mask. Screw secrecy! He looked at the girl he came to adore and tightened his grip on his hand. “Don’t leave me habibti. Please don’t do it…” A single tear fell from his eye, mixing with the blood around her heart. Then the next one. And another. He allowed his emotions to surface. He didn’t care who saw what. It was his moment, his wife, his damn business and no one’s else.
Tikki saw the pain and suffering and cursed. Cursed the laws, cursed the balance, cursed her own limitations. She was the most powerful kwami... scratch that, most powerful thing in existence. She created this whole damn world. Marinette was her greatest companion and true friend. She would not watch her Ladybug pass away so young. The Kwami floated above the girl and focused her energy. An orb of white formed around her and she launched it on Marinette. As the energy connected with her, the knife was destroyed and wound closed immediately. There was a flash of green light for just a moment, but it was quenched with another green light that came from where Damian’s tears still remained.
There was also another pulse of energy. This one was much bigger and came from near the ring of Black Cat where Plagg just awoke after he was exhausted. Doing evil was much more tiring for Kwami. And him potentially hurting Tikki like that made the lazy cat pass out for some time. Now he sensed the balance shifting. He acted almost on instinct, but retained enough awareness to change one thing. This pulse hit everyone in the room, but it looked Like Gabriel and Nathalie got the worst of it.
Marinette opened her eyes and graped for air, looking at Damian confused. “W-What… What just happened.”
“You are alive!” He shouted and pulled her in deep hug. She was confused at first, but embraced her husband as well.
“Marinette! You are healed…” Sabine lost her voice. “Thank you Tikki. Thank you so very much. You can have any sweets you want whenever you want!” She shouted before jumping to pull both Damian and Marinette into embrace.
“That is indeed a great news to see Mari-hime well, but what exactly happened.” Kagami asked, voicing what everyone thought.
“I can answer that.” Plagg floated closer to them while carrying his own ring. “When Tikki used her power to heal Marinette, she disturbed the balance. Normally, it would require someone else to surrender his life force to heal her.” It was unlike the Kwami of destruction to speak in such academic tone, but most seemed to ignore this fact for now. “But since she was still alive and I was conscious I instead took some of the life energy from everyone. For next few weeks, maybe months I would advise you to avoid strenuous activities.”
“Since when do you know the word ‘strenuous’ Plagg?” Tikki giggled while looking at the other Kwami.
“I have other interests than eating cheese!” He shouted. “Besides this mogger hid my cheese behind encyclopedia and I read it while eating at night.” He murmured. Tikki would have probably laughed if not the implications behind this. She floated to her companion and pulled him in a hug. There were no words spoken, only the two of them comforting one another after so much things happened in such a short (for a Kwami) time.
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Next week was hard. The defeat of Hawkmoth caused severe backlash. The public swarmed Ladybug wherever she went and questioned her about details. The chaos in the city caused by the news was close to riots. People were overly ecstatic. On the bright side, the school was canceled for the time of celebrations.
Before the heroes managed to turn their attention to Adrien he was long gone. He also wired all the funds from his father’s account somewhere. It was clear that the older Agreste had safety mechanisms in place just in case something like this happened.
Marinette didn’t care. She would later, but for now she was just happy that she could spend some time with Damian. Since the time she almost died, the two were inseparable. Even crowbar would not help here, so back off Jason!
The trip to America came sooner than expected. Marinette’s flight left on Monday, but Damian had to return by Saturday to have everything prepared. She wanted to go with him, but Madame Bustier firmly protested, saying that all students must travel with her because she is class representative and some other utter bullshit (Damian’s words).
Still, the bluenette came to the airport to say goodbye. It was about five in the morning and they were in private longue while waiting for the jet to be ready. Marinette kept forgetting that she was married into the richest family in the world. Then again, she did not care. Damian would mean no less to her if he was broke.
“It’s only two days, but I will miss you” Marinette said to him when the message came that everything was set.
“Me too habibti.” He said while looking into her blueberry eyes.
“I… Thank you. For everything.” She smiled. “If I didn’t meet you, I would probably still be fighting a losing war against Hawkmoth.”
“It was nothing.” He shrugged it off. “I did what I had to. To keep you safe I would do more.” He paused for a moment, taking another look in her beautiful eyes. She also starred back at him, the two whirlpools of emerald were mesmerizing in the morning light. They were really mesmerizing at any time of the day or night. “Marinette… Before I go. There is one more thing I wanted to tell you. The last months I spent with you were amazing.” He forced himself not to close. Damian decided that he would do it today and he would. No matter how embarrassed he was feeling right now. There was only the two of them and he turned all the cameras into loop so his family could not hack them. “For the first time I could really be myself. I am grateful for that.”
Marinette looked at him funny. “Damian? What are you…” She didn’t finish the question because he interrupted her.
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng Al Ghoul Wayne. I think I love you. No. I know I love you.” He said with an emotionless expression. It took every bit of his willpower not to run away.
She blinked. Then she blinked again. The weight of this words almost crushed her. Suddenly her legs felt weak. She tried to avoid his gaze while her mind was getting overheated. But then the courage she always showed as Ladybug filled her. She straightened up and looked him deep in his eyes again. “Damian Al Ghoul Wayne… I love you too.” She said. there was a relaxed smile on her face, but the most important part were her eyes. Damian saw only one thing in them. Love. He never saw anything like that before, but he knew that this was love in purest form.
He grabbed her in the waist and looked at her with question. For a moment, she hesitated, understanding where this was going, but then she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled himself closer. For a moment their faces were just inch apart. This was her last chance to back away. Yet instead, she closed the distance between their lips.
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THE END
KONIEC
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Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25 @tired-butterfly @toodaloo-kangaroo @redscarlet95 @miukiiu @sassakitty @corabeth11 @vixen-uchiha @lilypos03
#miraculous lb#miraculous ladybug#Miraculous!Sabine#fanfiction#fanfic#tiger miraculous#Superhero!Sabine#maribat#maribat au#marinette x damian#arranged marriage au#maridami#damienette#batman#mlb#league of assassins#order of the guardians#mlb x dc
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The Leaves of Her Garden - Chapter X
Title: The Leaves of Her Garden
Genre: Fanfiction
Pairing: Madara Uchiha x reader
Rating: Mature
Word count: 3096
Chapter (s): 10/?
Warning(s): non explicit sex, loss of virginity, painful memories (you can read my notes about this and the next chapter here on my ao3)
Read the previous chapters here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Interlude, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9
Symbols: 🌙 | ➕ | ▶▶
The Memories Exchanged
You felt the goosebumps arising all over your skin despite the robe surrounding your body. The breeze brought by the first hours of the night was cold, strong enough to move the light lamps hanging from the house’s external walls, the ornaments on your hair and the fabric of your clothing. You grabbed its edges and tightened them around you, crossing your arms to keep them in place.
You were at the porch, at its entry at the one that was going to be your new room. It was not the same room where you met Madara for the first time, but you could tell it was near it; maybe they were contiguous. A few moments ago, he left you in that room and told you to wait there for him. At first, you sat on the futon and obeyed; however, after a few minutes, you decided to stand up and walk to the porch’s door. You went outside to breathe some fresh air and to see the night sky.
It was some kind of soul releasing, just standing there, looking at the stars in the spring night. You always loved it; it helped you many times, when you needed to organize your thoughts or when you sensed you were going to be crushed by your feelings. That time, feeling the presence of the stars above your head never felt so necessary.
You were trying to convince yourself that the most difficult part of your mission was over, and that you succeeded. You went to the ceremony, under the crowd’s eyes and turned yourself into Sachiko, the Todoroki’s heir. You played your role just as Madara taught you to. Each step, each look, gesture and word were precisely performed as you rehearsed. You convinced everyone of your identity. You said the words before the priest. You married the Uchiha leader. You did it. At least this part of your burden was now took off your shoulders.
The next step was to make amends to your own past.
You thought about the events that led you there, the places where you have been, the people you’ve met, the dangerous situations from which you’ve managed to escape , and concluded that it was a miracle that you were still there to recapitulate all those things.
The weight of the memories was such that you couldn’t carry it inside yourself, and your eyes started to burn with tears. You tried to hold them back, though you had your make up removed by Ayane when you came back from the ceremony and thus there was nothing to worry about: you weren’t sure of his reaction to your sobbing, but you didn’t want Madara to see you in such state.
You didn’t exactly understand how, but you felt a presence right behind you and turned, knowing it was him. He had his back turned to the inner side of the room. As usual, he had his wild hair untied; h e was wearing pants and had a black robe around his body. The light of the lamps inside the room touched the same surfaces as the ones outside, creating penumbras all around the wooden floor; still, Madara’s shadow seemed darker, prominent among them, extending itself from his bare feet to the spot you were standing. You didn’t move your feet, yet you thought that if you did, his shadow would keep them on place, and you would be unable to run.
You raised your eyes to his, glowing in the dark.
- Madara-sama…
It was when the tears came back and you couldn’t contain them; your voice was gone. You closed your eyes tight and covered your face. Soon you felt his arms around you, and when you looked, he led you back to the room, the porch’s door making a whispering noise while he closed it behind him.
You opened your eyes and dared looking around the room for the second time since you were brought there. You were starting to accept that it was going to be your bedroom from now on. Madara made you turn to him; you saw no angry or impatience in his eyes. He held your chin, lifting your face, and his thumb wiped your tears.
- Y/n. If you want to thank me for saving your life, do not do it with tears.
You didn’t reply; you just waited. He turned to the wall at his right and handled a small mechanism you haven’t noticed there until that moment; the lights of the room diminished their intensity, and you felt like you were surrounded by the light of candles. He then moved away, walking toward a couch not so far from the futon. He untied his robe and took it off, laying it on its back, then came back to you.
He passed his hands around your head and held the pins holding your hair; he pulled them, and your hair fell around your shoulders. He held the pins on his mouth to keep his hands free. He then untied your robe and was going to undress you when your hands tightened around its fabric before you could control them.
Madara immediately stopped what he was doing and took the pins off his mouth.
- What is it?
You opened your mouth, but no word came out. He didn’t alter his manners.
- Go to the futon – he pointed it out right behind him and went to a small table beside the couch to place the pins upon it.
You sat on the mattress with your legs bent, still holding your robe, and waited. When Madara came back, he sat at the futon’s edge and stood there, just observing you, his elbow leaning on his thigh, the back of his hand under his chin, the overwhelming focus of his eyes all on you. It was like you were already undressed.
You heard his voice speaking to you in the same way he did at the first time he met you, when he told you to approach the chair for him to see you.
- Take it off. I want to see you.
His tone was far from rude or threatening, but neither it was sweet. It was painful to refuse to do as he said, but your hands didn’t want to let go of the robe’s fabric. You forced them to do so and moved the fabric away from your shoulders, hoping that your hair falling over your breasts would be enough to replace it. However you were betrayed in your gesture, for the robe was so smooth that it slipped down and revealed the entire upper side of your body. When you saw your clothing spreading on the mattress around you, your first instinct was to startle and cross your arms to cover your exposed skin. You started to feel like a failure. You bent your legs tighter to hide yourself, trying to avoid his eyes, but they seemed to be everywhere: it was the same sensation you had when you first met him, but increased to its limit.
T he first words said in a long time inside that room were his.
- Beautiful. And clearly untouched. Indeed, there was no need to question you about this at that night we met. Still, I wanted to hear the answer from your mouth… or at least see it through the fluster on your innocent traits.
Your face burned at these words; you looked at him and found a growing smile on his lips. Was your embarrassment a diversion to him? Well, whatever the case, Madara ignored your reaction and continued to speak.
- Tell me. Why are you hiding from me? Is there something about yourself you do not want me to see?
You couldn’t contain yourself this time.
- I… I am not hiding! – and, thinking you spoke too loud – No… There is nothing of this sort, Madara-sama… It’s just that… it is strange to me.
He didn’t even try to stifle his laughter.
- I cannot say I am surprised.
- I do not understand – you continued – What would I have that’d be so important I’d have to hide it from you? What would I gain with this? – your voice trembled at your next words – I am no one.
The smile you saw on his face didn’t reach his eyes. With fluid manners, he left his previous position and leaned on his knees upon the mattress, approaching you in a second; he sat before you and with his right hand, he held your jawline. With little effort he maintained the eye contact between you, for you didn’t move a muscle at this sudden change in the circumstances. His left hand, on its turn, was placed on your thigh, the heat of its skin and the strength in its fingers sensed even through the robe’s fabric that was still covering you there.
Was he going to put you in a genjutsu? Or was he going to just give you a kiss? Who could tell? You would have to wait and see.
Madara’s hand trace d a path from your thigh to your waist, and somehow was able to make you kneel and get closer to him. His will was so impregnated in that touch that you didn’t think of moving away or cringing; you just followed it.
- Yes, you are someone. You have a name. Two names. To the world, you are Sachiko Uchiha; to me, you are y/n Uchiha. And even if you think are not, you will change your mind soon… – he gently pulled your jawline forward and approached his lips to your ear – As soon I make you ready.
H e took the opportunity to leave a kiss on your earlobe. Soon, he was facing you again, and with a calmness that would make an observer think he was doing it for the thousandth time, his hand moved your hair away from your shoulders, leaving your breasts at sight; you had no time to think of covering yourself or to refusing the gesture: in one second, you were in your place; in the next, he threw his arms around you and placed you on his lap, the lower fabric of your robe spreading out to show your thighs. It was strange to be held like this, with little clothing to protect you. Your face burned, but you didn’t say anything. Instead, you found yourself thinking of what he just said: so he was now acknowledging you as an Uchiha, despite your true circumstances in life? Was he taking you more seriously than you thought he would do? Well, despite being there, about to be made his woman, you still couldn’t believe that. You have been on your own for so long that it was hard to accept you were now part of a family, and not just any family, but one of the most powerful clans at your time.
And then it was inevitable. Your mind sent you back to your darkest memories, and you almost forgot everything else. You were back to the state in which Madara found you at the porch, and when he questioned you about it, you just cried.
Again, he held your chin and raised your face.
- I told you not to thank me with tears, girl – he said, wiping your tears – Look in my eyes.
You obeyed. However, you didn’t find the dark pupils as you were expecting: in their place there was the reddish pattern of the Sharingan waiting for you. So he was going to use a genjutsu to erase your memory? Maybe. Still, there seem to be something different this time. Was he using the same method that was applied on Ayane’s brother-in-law? What was that?
Why did his Sharingan look different from before?
- So, you already noticed the difference? You are a clever girl – he smiled, guessing your thoughts – Let me tell you something about it. At this moment, you are looking at my Mangekyo Sharingan. It is more powerful than its normal form, and it was awaken at a high cost. Its story is a bit long, for which we do not have time for now. What you need to know is that you do not have to be afraid of it. I will not do to you what I did to that man, nor anything of that sort. With you, I will use it for something else...
He held your hands and made them pass around his neck, under the dark strands of his hair, while his own went back to their place around your waist and held you closer. Not even for a second you looked away from his Mangekyo; i t kept you captive.
And through it you experienced many things.
It was like you were seeing your thoughts mirrored by it, and your memories became a visible story for both of you. Yes, it was like Madara was seeing what you had in your mind, and you were speaking them out to him, but your lips weren’t moving.
Without a word, you told him everything: your childhood with your parents in your modest house; the war coming to the village where you lived; the warriors passing through it like a storm, devastating everything in their way; houses burning, and people screaming; the survivors leaving the region, seeking for a new place to rebuild their lives; your family and friends who left and who died, leaving you alone in the world.
Soon, your mind switched to your new house, with your adoptive mother, and her good manners and lessons; you were now a young woman, ready to live your life; then came your problems and your hard work to take care of your sick mother; your job as a governess; Hiroshi’s harassment; the night when you were forced to run, trying to get free from his hands. You were now back to the trees, alone, lost and with no hope; you were weak at the river’s shore; Izuna approaching and talk ing to you; you being carried by him, to live among the Uchiha.
Something changed in your visions at this point , and now you were seeing memories that didn’t belong to you. What was that? Were they Madara’s memories? Was that the way the Mangekyo worked?
There was a forest’ s entry, and a river. A boy was sitting at the shore alone. By his dark hair and eyes, you could say he was an Uchiha; looking closer at his traits, you recognized Madara. He was quiet, thinking of something.
The scenario changed, and the river turned into a house’s entry, so similar to the house you were now that you considered the possibility of them being the same. There were kids at the entry, and you saw Madara approaching them, taking off his sandals and joining the group who cheered at his arrival.
This memory changed too, and now Madara was beside just one boy, younger than him; you saw his face and recognized Izuna. So the other children you saw before were his other siblings? If so, what happened to them?
The answer came soon, when you saw the river again, and Madara was standing at its shore, with a rock on his hand. At the other side of the river, someone approached. Another boy, but not from the same clan. Who was he? Apparently, a friend. He had a rock with him too. The boys exchanged the rocks and were about to run, but other people appeared: two men in armor, carrying swords; each of them had a boy by their side. One pair was from the Uchiha – you recognized Izuna; the other one you didn’t know. A fight happened, and the boys close to the men almost died, but they were saved by Madara and the other boy.
This is what happened to the other children, then. The war took them away, just like it did to your friends in the past. But Madara still had Izuna; you had no one.
The scenario changed one more time, and you saw the Uchiha man from before. Was he Madara’s father? Possibly. He was not gentle; he was violent, threatening towards his boys. You saw Madara protecting Izuna. Then, you saw them hiding. Izuna was crying; Madara had his arms around him. Didn’t they have a mother to take care of them? If they did, you would probably see her. Maybe they lost her.
You knew what is like to loose a mother; you felt it twice. You knew what is like not having someone who would fight for you, not having a place where you’d feel safe enough to call it home. And for you knew that pain, you understood the boys’ feelings, and felt them in your guts. The fear, the shame, the anger, all at once. You felt your body shaking, and your throat was now sore. A tear rolled from your right eye.
And then the memories disappeared, and you noticed Madara’s eyes have turned back to their black shade. But from his right one a tear rolled too, at the same time as yours. It was when you knew: he was using the Mangekyo to reach your thoughts, your feelings, and opened the way to his own for you. Since you were unable to speak, he had to find another way to connect you two.
In different circumstances, it would be a treacherous method. But in this case, it was like a gift. Madara already said that he has been sensing your solitude; now you realized he had his own too. And he made you know each other’s, so that you were not alone anymore. You were now able to reach out to other, to understand each other, to belong to each other. And it felt so good not having to carry everything by yourself. Was that the beginning of love? It could be. The only thing you knew is that it was the beginning of something only for you two.
You stretched your hand and wiped the tear from his face; his skin was hot. He took your hand in his and kissed your palm, then wiped your tears as well; however he didn’t move his hand away: he passed his thumb upon your lips and parted them, kissing them right after. You didn’t move away or struggle as he tightened his arms around you. You just did your part in the deal, and let him do what he had to do.
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Symbiote (Lucifer Morningstar) (Ch. 10)
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Symbiote! GN!Reader
Words:2.0K+
Warning(s): Talks of trauma, gore warning
A/N: Heyo sorry for the l o n g wait, but life is life. heres the next installment of Symbiote~ Sorry if I miss anyone on the taglist, there are a lot of people asking and its hard to keep track.
Chapters: Chapter 1, | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 |
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There was a moment of brief, heavy silence before a soft spoken answer was received: "Sure thing."
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Lucifer watched as (Y/N) immediately melted into a deep sleep and he expected Venom followed in suit. It was a cute site, he would be lying by saying their sleeping face was not cute. The way their lips were slightly parted, the soft snores, the way you were gripping onto and holding onto the pillow...
He shook his head, taking one last look before he moved himself away from the bed. There was a strange feeling that swarmed and filled up his chest. It was a feeling he had only felt a few times before in his long past. He couldn't quite place his finger on the strange sensation but tried to shrug it off. That can be saved for his future visit with Linda.
It was an interesting twist to his life, meeting (Y/N) and Venom. He thought the only thing was Chloe making him vulnerable but it seems like his time on Earth is adding more spice to his life.
Lucifer pulled out his cellphone and sent a quick message for Mazikeen, telling her to come to the pent house in the morning. After hitting send he closed out of the app and swiped towards his camera. Him taking a picture wasn't for black mail purposes, but his impulse to have some sort of silly photo on his phone was high. Lucifer crouched down near his bed and held up his phone, taking a rather adorable selfie of him with his tongue and (Y/N) asleep.
Lucifers head snapped in the direction of his elevators and the sound of an all too familiar, angelic brothers voice.
"Luci, I need to talk to you."
"Oh no." He gulped. He was panicking internally and lightly pulled the covers over his sleeping body guard as he figured out something to tell his brother. "Stay. Here." He gritted his teeth and made his way to his brother. "What is it Amenadiel, I was in the middle of something."
"I heard you were working with the human; the strange one that we aren't entirely sure is human."
"And what about it, Amenadiel?"
"You shouldn't mess with-"
"Let me stop you there. Were you not the angel to work with a devil and to work with me?"
"Yes but-"
"Listen, I have met with them and gotten know them. They are completely harmless."
"Are you completely sure?" Amenadiel stared down Lucifer with an intense look. "Are you sure they won't harm humans."
Lucifer went to speak but had to watch himself. He knew that (Y/N) and Venom were virtually harmless to good humans, but he also knew that Venom ate humans. Granted they were criminals, so basically almost harmless.
"They won't harm bad humans." Lucifer rolled his eyes when Amenadiel gave him a look. "You allow me to do the same thing: punishing the bad." That seemed to shut his angel brother up for a moment.
"Just be careful, Lucifer. You don't fully know them or what they are capable of."
"Thats the fun of this whole experience." Lucifer devilishly smirked while Amenadiel rolled his eyes. His brother didn't say anymore and just left. The King of Hells smirk fell to a more relaxed expression before he went back to his bed to make sure that (Y/N) was still in bed. He was expecting them still there, not an empty bed.
"Shit!" He exclaimed, although he kept his voice low. He listened carefully for any sound in his penthouse. Lucifers head perked when he heard a sound coming from the bathroom; it sounds like there is water running. He stepped to the bathroom in his bedroom and leaned his head close to the door,and it definitely sounded like the shower was running.
"(Y/N) darling, are you okay?" He was hoping either Venom or (Y/N) were sober enough to what they were doing.
"Fiiiine." A long, drawn out reply came from the other side. That reply did not sound sober. "Venom is still knocked out."
"What are you doing?"
"Gonna wash me and my clothes."
"Why don't you come out before you do that and wait until tomorrow."
"No!" After that shout he heard a thump on the floor. "Ow I fell..."
"I'm coming in, (Y/N)." He didn't waste time to open the unlocked door, but hoped that they weren't fully unclothed. Usually Lucifer wouldn't mind but in these circumstances he would like to respect his employee. He saw them sprawled on the floor with what looks like a cut on their forehead.
"Hnng..." They moaned out as Lucifer rushed to them.
"Your forehead..." There was a lot of blood, although he knew the alcohol had a part in that.
"Don't worry, Venom can heal it in the morning." Lucifer watched as they pushed themselves off the ground. "I gotta- I gotta lay down."
"Just lean on me, I will walk you to the bed." He wrapped an around their waist and slowly moved them out from the bathroom and onto the bed. "I will get a towel to clean all the blood on your face alright?" He helped them sit on the edge of the bed before darting back to the bathroom for a hand towel.
"I'm not usually like this." (Y/N) said quietly, their words still slurred but they sounded much more sober than earlier. "Don't ever give us alcohol like that again."
Lucifer didn't respond, he had no idea what to say. He began dabbing the cloth on their face, trying his hardest to be gentle while wiping away the blood on their cute face. Lucifer blinked... Cute? He mentally shook away that thought and continued to swipe away the blood.
"I'm sorry." They muttered. "We don't mean to be trouble."
"No trouble at all, especially compared to me." Lucifer chuckled. "Now before you go back to bed, are you sure your cut is fine? It looks pretty bad."
"Yea, like I said: Venom can fix that. He can fix a lot, he is currently fixing me right now." The drunk (Y/N) slightly giggled.
"What does that mean?" Lucifer felt a little bad for prying, but this was a prime opportunity to learn more about the host and the alien.
"I'm a perfect match, but on scans my body basically looks like it is actively dying, like complete organ failure. Venom is preventing that from happening." They sighed and looked downwards towards their chest. "He heals physical wounds too."
Lucifer was about to interrupt them when he saw their hand tug at the collar of their shirt,but when he saw just a small portion of a jagged, dark scar he almost froze. He has seen many horrid things that do not affect him, but this affected him in a sympathetic way. He had barely met the two but he knew (Y/N) and Venom were decent people compared to a lot of humans on Earth.
"If he can heal a gaping hole through my body..." They yawned, and continued. "He can heal a cut. Anyways, I sleep now." They laid their head on the pillow and almost instantly they fell asleep.
------
Your head was pounding when you were awoken by sunlight. You were sure this was a hangover and definitely sure you were feeling Venoms too. You didn't have to look around to know you weren't in your apartment, the feel of the silk sheets against your skin was a dead give away. Letting your eyes investigate your surroundings you could conclude this was Lucifers pent house. You couldn't piece much together after you fell asleep (the first time that is) but there were strange memories that were popping up; like going to the bathroom and Lucifer helping you a second time to bed.
You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and took a moment before standing up. You took steps to the bathroom, which gave you a sense of a deja vu, to freshen up a bit. When you got to the bathroom your (e/c) eyes widened at the site in the mirror. There was a nice sized gash on your head, starting from yohr hairline to barely above your brow.
"Venom buddy, are you awake?" You spoke, although your voice definitely sounded raspy from just waking up. "I need you to heal this." No response, the alien still must be asleep. As irritating as it was because you needed him, a small break from constant chatter was nice.
You sighed, and spent time with the rest of your appearance. You definitely had bedhead hair but it wasn't too much of a struggle to neaten out. You splashed some cool water on your face and took advantage of the bottle of mouth wash that was on the counter. With a stretch you left the washroom and bedroom, hoping to find Lucifer.
Right as you entered the main room the elevator doors slid open and there was the Devil you were looking for.
"Ah good your awake." He grinned and set down a bag and coffee. Here is breakfast for you. We have another case so eat fast."
"O-okay." You yawned while talking, opening the bag and taking out the bagel he got.
"I wasn't sure how you liked your coffee, or if you liked coffee, and bagel."
"Don't worry about it, I just hope the food helps with the hangover." You begin to chow down fast, hoping the food would stir Venom. "Venom is still asleep so he hasn't healed the cut. Which I want to ask if you know how I got it."
"Oh right. You went to take a shower with your clothes on and you fell and hit your head on the counter."
"Ah... Well I hope you forgive my behavior."
"Trust me, I have seen you humans act way worse while not under the influence."
"Nibble... No more alcohol..." Venoms voice finally was heard.
"Good morning Venom. Can you heal up my forehead please?" You heard grumble from him but you could feel him start to pull your forehead wound close. You could feel his goopy self start to enclose the wound before sinking back into you.
"Less subtle than I was expecting." Lucifers face looked almost impressed. You quickly finished your bagel and grabbed the coffee.
"I can drink this on the way. Do you know anything about the case your joining?"
"Only that it pertains to our killer." Lucifer made his way back to his elevator and you quickly join him.
"The Stalker case? This is a quick escalation from the last scene."
"Well according to what Chloe briefly told me, the crime scene confirms its Gene. And that we got the reports back from his prison he was released on parole but he killed his officer."
"Well shit."
-----
You and Lucifer arrived at the crime scene in around 10 minutes after leaving his place. Thankfully Lucifer lent you his sunglasses to help with the headache. Venom thought they looked cool too which was a plus. Officers eyed you as you stuck close to Lucifers side; they eyed you more than they did last time. You rolled your eyes and continued following Lucifer into the toy store.
"Detective!" Lucifer greeted loudly as he approached his partner. You slid the sunglasses onto the top of your head since the room was fairly dim.
"Another dead body..." Venom growled.
"Lucifer, (Y/N)." She greeted Lucifer with a look of annoyance but gave you a small smile. Although you can tell she seemed to be hiding something... Call it a journalistic hunch. "I need you both to see this. Now." She brought you both to around the counter where the store clerk would usually be, but there you saw a dead man.
The words 'stay away' were carved into his arms and you noticed the same two words were written next to his body.
"I take it our killer finger painted more in a different room?" Lucifer asked humorously.
"Yes he did in the store room." Detective Decker glared at him. "But he broke his pattern; he left these." She handed you two evidence bags, both with paper in them. One was a piece of college ruled paper with what seems to be an address.
The next was a picture of you outside the last crime scene with Lucifer laughing.
"Looks like he knows your investigating him again, (Y/N)."
"Well... Shit."
------------------------------------------------------------------
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#Lucifer Morningstar#lucifer fanfiction#lucifer#Lucifer Fox#lucifer morningstar fox#lucifer morningstar imagines#lucifer morningstar reader insert#morningstar#symbiote#Venom Symbiote#lucifer morningstar symbiote#marvel crossover#crossover fic#venom crossover#CrossOver#lucifer mornignstar crossover#marvel reader insert#venom x reader#venom fic#venom
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29
Pairing: EZ Reyes x Camila (OC)
Warnings: Implied mild alcoholism, talk of death and grieving
Word count: 3.8k
***I’m working on finding a face claim for Karlene for you guys. Any recommendations/ who you envision her as, feel free to send them my way
“Perdoname, por favor.” – Forgive me, please.
“Ya lo hice.” – I already did.
Camila sighed and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, her cheeks tinted pink in the California heat. She plucked the last strawberry from the patch, bright ruby red and full of juice. She held it up and squinted in the bright sun before dropping it onto the pile that she had built in the basket. Standing from her little yellow gardening stool, she stretched, a groan falling from her lips as she felt the tension easing away out of her back from being hunched all morning. Reaching down, she grabbed the handle of the basket and lifted it, walking over to the little bench to relax for a little. She sat there in the peace of her backyard, birds chirping and splashing over in the birdbath she had bought. She smiled as she watched and listened to them, her phone starting to ring. She stood tiredly and walked over to the patio, grabbing her phone and seeing Karlene’s name. She lifted the phone up to her ear, answering it.
“Hello?”
“Hey! Are you busy today?”
Cam looked down at herself, gardening clothes littered with dirt, her body sweaty. Karlene sounded hopeful though and Camila didn’t have the heart to turn her down, no matter how tired she may be. Sometimes people just needed a friend.
“No, I’m not. What’s up?”
“Well, there’s this place I used to go to with my sister all the time back in Colorado and they do live music and stuff on Saturdays. Anyway, I just saw that they opened one here a little bit out of Santo Padre and I was just wondering if you wanted to go with me? Let me pay you back for doing my hair?”
Camila chuckled, already having told the girl a thousand times that she didn’t have to pay her back. She had dyed her hair for her as a favor. Camila could easily tell that it was about more than just paying her back. Karlene wanted someone to spend time with.
“What time?”
Camila could hear the smile when Karlene spoke again and it brought a smile to Camila’s face as well.
“I’d say six? Get some food and drinks, just hang out.”
Camila checked the time it was now, having more than a few hours to finish up here and then get cleaned up to drop off some strawberries for the boys, as well as Felipe.
“Six it is. Just text me the address.”
The girls finished up their call and Camila smiled to herself. Karlene often mentioned her sister and Camila felt bad, figuring that she’d had to leave her behind when she had left Colorado. An only child, Cam couldn’t exactly relate, but she could understand. If Karlene needed someone, Camila would be that someone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
“Hola, Señorita Camila!”
Camila laughed and gave Chucky a wave, walking over and giving him a hug.
“Hello, Chucky.”
“May I be of assistance?”
He held his hands out toward the bag that Camila was carrying, and she nodded appreciatively, allowing the man to take the bag of strawberries from her and place it down onto the counter.
“Thanks, Chucky.”
She walked around to the other side with him and began helping him pull the boxes of strawberries that she had packaged out of the bag. With all of the packages now on the counter, she looked back at Chucky with a smile.
“Just give these to the boys when they come back. It’s a box for each except Coco. I gave him two boxes so he can give one to his sister and then this one is yours.”
She placed her hand on the box closest to her and slide it along the surface of the counter toward him. Chucky looked down at the box for a couple seconds longer than Camila thought necessary and she tilted her head as he looked up at her. She could see the emotion on his face, but he still wore a smile
“Thank you very much for thinking of me.”
Camila frowned for a moment.
“We always think of you, Chucky.”
The man simply nodded and didn’t say anything else, grabbing his box and sticking it in the fridge. Saying her goodbyes to him, she left the clubhouse and made her way back to her car, making the drive to the carniceria. She felt nervous as she drove and the feeling only intensified as she pulled up in front and parked, walking up and pulling open the door. Felipe looked up as soon as he heard the door, an automatic muscle memory half-smile coming to his face, but as he saw Cam, the smile dropped and so did his eyes. He walked around the counter and toward her, eyes down then entire time. Both stood quiet until Camila spoke, her voice small and guilt-ridden as he placed his strawberries down on the table.
“I’m sorry for making a mess here that day. That was wrong of me and I should’ve had more respect for your shop.”
Felipe’s eyes snapped up to her then and he quickly shook his head.
“The only ones that made any mess were my son and I. You have nothing to apologize for mija.”
Camila nodded, trying to reign in her emotions but they got the better of her and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around the patriarch. He didn’t miss a beat and returned the embrace, his eyes closing and a sigh escaping him.
“Perdoname, por favor.”
Shaking her head, Camila squeezed him tighter.
“Ya lo hice.”
They hugged for a little while more before they both pulled away.
“I shouldn’t have let him bring her here. I wanted him to fix it, but it still wasn’t right.”
Shrugging, Camila smiled.
“It’s done with. It got cleared up and it’s over. No sense in still worrying about it.”
Felipe nodded and then picked up the box of strawberries.
“They look beautiful Camila.”
She grinned and thanked him.
“You can always come by the garden whenever you want.”
“Thank you. I might go by- “
His words were cut off by someone knocking on the door. Cam’s brows furrowed, wondering who knocks when they see that the store is clearly open. Turning, her confusion dissipated, and she rolled her eyes, seeing KJ standing outside, sunglasses on and motioning for Felipe to go out to him. Turning back, Camila exaggeratedly sighed then chuckled as she earned a laugh from the older man.
“I’m gonna head out but come by whenever. Just call to make sure I’m there.”
Felipe nodded, not feeling worried since he knew that EZ had explained everything now. He walked with her out of the shop and watched as she headed to her car, KJ watching as well. Camila couldn’t help but notice that the man looked disheveled, not nearly the same cocky and put together man that she had seen times prior. He looked exhausted, shoulders heavy and Camila couldn’t help but get a sinking feeling. What if something had gone wrong with the deal? What if there had been a mistake or discrepancy and they revoked EZ’s deal entirely? Camila forced herself to talk a deep breath as she drove down the road to head home and get ready for dinner with Karlene.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
“They’re good right?”
Camila nodded as she took another bite of the boneless wings. Karlene hadn’t been lying when she had said they made the best wings she had tasted. They were amazing and Camila made a mental note to bring EZ and the boys here one of these days.
“You weren’t exaggerating.”
Karlene smiled brightly and picked up a french fry. Camila took a sip of her drink, some fruity blend of juice and tequila. She still had about half of her first, while Karlene already had finished 3 plus a few shots. It was safe to say that she was already nearing drunk, so Camila paced herself, wanting to be sober and in control, in case Karlene didn’t know her limit.
“You come here often? Or at least to the one in Colorado?”
Karlene’s smile fell some but she picked it right back up quickly. Not quick enough for it to escape Came though. They had hung out for nearly the entire day when she had come by so Camila could retouch her hair, plus a handful of times at the clubhouse and Cam had always had the gift of being able to read people anyway.
“Yeah. Me and my sister always used to go. Almost every weekend actually. We would go and hang out, party. Get into trouble.”
She laughed softly at the last part, but Camila could feel there wasn’t much funny about it.
“We could come here with friends, or sometimes we just came by ourselves. Just like little, I don’t know, sister dates I guess. So, I said now that I’m here instead, I could take you out with me like I used to go with her.”
Karlene fell quiet then and her fake smile slipped away momentarily. She normally would lie or cover up everything to try and make certain situations seen better than they were but with Camila, she saw how accepting she was of everyone. How the boys spoke about her when she wasn’t there, praising her and her heart and Karlene had gotten to see it from the first moment they had met. The alcohol had also lowered her inhibitions as well as her pride and she spilled.
“My sister died a few weeks before I moved here so,”
She didn’t really know how to continue after that and she looked down at her lap, eyes welling with tears. A pronounced frown materialized on Camila’s face as she looked at the girl. She was barely any younger than Camila at 24 years old, but she looked much younger as she sat there, shoulders hunched and curled in on herself, looking more like a child than a grown woman. Camila was out of her side of the booth then, walking around and sliding in beside the redhead. She placed her arm around Karlene’s shoulders and watched as the girl broke down at the caring touch.
“I just really miss her. She’s always been there, and I don’t really know how to get on without her. She was the older one, always had the answers. She died and everything just fell apart.”
Camila instantly pulled her into her, arms holding her tightly as she rested her head on her chest. It wasn’t exactly how she had pictured she would be spending her evening, but it was clear that the girl needed help and Camila wasn’t the type to stand by without helping. So she sat there holding her, one hand stroking over Karlene’s straight cherry-red hair. She held her for as long as she needed, sending a glare at a woman who was peering at them. Soon enough, her sniffles and tears had ceased, and she pulled away, laughing as Camila reached over to wipe away a tear.
“I swear I didn’t bring you out here just to cry on you over chicken wings.”
Camila laughed herself and hugged the girl once more. She could tell there was much more to the story of her sister and more to the story of why she was here in general. Camila remembered that Angel had said she was here trying to escape an ex-boyfriend and it was clear that while she was safe, she felt she had no one. Taking in a deep breath and then blowing it out, Cam could see the tension evaporating from Karlene’s body. She felt free now because she had been honest. She had been carrying that grief with her and had no one to share it with, until now. Karlene sniffled once and grabbed a clean napkin from the table to wipe her eyes, pointing to the opposite side of the booth.
“You can go back and eat now. I’m sorry. I’m good now.”
Camila nodded and walked back around to sit in her side of the booth. Karlene’s eyes were red and puffy, as was the tip of her nose but she wore a genuine smile now and Camila returned it, knowing that it was only up from there for Karlene and she would be there for her whenever she needed it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``
Camila and EZ were laying together, comfortable under her yellow blanket as they relaxed on the couch. Some crime documentary was playing but Camila wasn’t really paying attention. Her mind had been going over the days events and she got stuck on KJ. Something about how he looked and how he acted just seemed off and it had been bothering her. The more she thought about it, the more she started to feel guilt bubbling up within her. EZ had used Angel to get this deal rolling, and the fact that he was still keeping it from him was bothering her. She loved Angel, he was like a brother to her and she would never want to keep something from him that he deserved to know, but this wasn’t her battle. This was EZ’s choice and his decision, but she had gotten dragged into it and the guilt was eating away at her. Unable to stomach the worry she sat up, EZ’s eyes on her as she did.
“You ok?”
Nodding her head, she looked back at him.
“Saw KJ today.”
EZ groaned but she kept talking, not giving him a chance to but in.
“He looked rough. Rough. Like he’s running on no sleep. He looked anxious and defeated and I just got a bad feeling about it.”
EZ let her keep talking, simply running his hand up and down her back as he listened. Turning her head to look back at him, she shook her head.
“You should tell Angel about the deal.”
EZ didn’t hesitate to shake his head no, sitting up with her.
“I can’t. I won’t get him involved and dragged into that.”
Cam scoffed and shook her own head before looking at him once again.
“You already did. The moment you signed that paper you dragged him in. I think it would be best that he heard it from you. At least in some way you can redeem yourself a little because you came clean. You told the truth. That will stand for something. But if the truth comes out from someone else? Imagine how he’ll feel EZ. If you tell him, you can say your side and try to get him to understand. If someone else tells him, someone like KJ? They will make you look as horrible as they need to so they can get what they need.”
EZ stayed looking at her, the crease between his brows deepening.
“He’ll hate me.”
“And he’ll hate you even more if he finds out you were never going to tell him.”
Shaking her head, she looked away from him.
“I hate keeping secrets, EZ. I hate them. The truth always comes out and when it does it will be best if it comes from your mouth. I don't like knowing something and keeping it from him. I know it's not my business, but you brought me into it and I feel guilty even if it wasn't my choice. Imagine how Angel will feel knowing that you told me the truth before you told him when it’s his credibility that's on the line. If the club finds out, it’s his ass. That’s not right. He's your brother.”
EZ winced at the stress she placed on the word brother. She wasn't saying it directly, but he knew what she meant. This is a betrayal that should’ve never happened. At least not the way that he went about it. Turning to face him, she took his hands in hers.
“You were scared. You were facing almost 40 years for an accident and you didn’t want your life to be wasted because of it, so you did what you felt you needed to do. You chose to protect yourself, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But you did it someone else’s expense, your brother no less. Your brother, your dad, your club, they’re like my family and I want what’s best for everyone. I don’t want this to ruin you guys and if it blows up without you being the one to set it off, it’s going to be ugly Ezekiel.”
Her grip on his hands was tight and she was pleading with him. She was practically begging him, and for his family’s sake. A family that he had brought her into and hoped to soon marry her into. She wanted what was best for them and he knew she was right in what she was saying, but it wasn’t that easy.
“I hear you, Cam. I do.”
She nodded. He wasn’t saying he would. He was just saying that he understood, and that wasn’t going to be enough. He was a grown man though and she couldn’t force him to do something he didn’t want to do, and she would never rat him out. She would keep it to herself, compartmentalize the guilt and hope that the Reyes family could make it out to the other side when things did finally come to a head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
“Hi, where is the young adult fiction section?”
Camila looked up from the scheduling book and smiled at the teen girl standing in front of her at the desk, round black glasses and a long ponytail.
“Oh right over there. Go down to the end of this aisle and make a left, they’ll be along the wall.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Camila gave the girl a warm smile which she mirrored. Looking back down at her book, she looked over the schedule, trying to find a replacement for the call off she got for tomorrow. Her eyes were down on the papers, skimming around and looking through all the staff. She heard the entrance bell ring and looked up again, ready to help whatever customer came up to her.
“Hi, welcome to Sal’s. Can I help you find anything?”
The man continued to walk up to the front desk, a charming smile on his bearded face and Camila remembered seeing him at Marcus’ vowel renewal. Her smile stayed in place, not able to pinpoint him. He looked affluent, much more so than most of middle-class residents and high schoolers who frequented the bookstore. The material, quality, and tailoring of his suit spoke for itself. At the desk, he reached forward, opening his hand for hers. She slid her hand into his and he grasped it gently, giving her a formal handshake as she thought to herself and tried to remember if he had told her his name that night. Almost as if he was inside her head, he clarified for her.
“We never got properly introduced at the event that night. I’m Miguel. Emily’s husband.”
Camila kept her face neutral, still maintaining her smile, but inside her calm demeanor had vanished and she was on alert. He had been nothing but gentlemanly to her than night and so far, he still was now. He had treated her nicely, respectfully even by letting her pass first, but now that EZ had been honest with her about things, she knew that a very dangerous man was standing in front of her, and she didn’t know why he was here. She could be safe because she was the woman with one of his MC associates, or she could be in danger because she was the woman of one of his MC associates, that had been secretly meeting with his wife. With all of the resources and connections that he had, she was sure that he had learned her name by now but she said it to him anyway, just to keep the conversation normal and hopefully not give away that she knew more than she should.
“Right. I’m Camila.”
He smiled once again and gave a small nod.
“Yes, I know. I’m sure you’re busy so I don’t want to take up much of your time. I only came by to apologize for my wife.”
Camila prayed that her face didn’t show her surprise. On the one hand, she figured that playing dumb may be the safer option to distance herself, but her gut told her that despite them having no real connection, Miguel wasn’t a man that liked being lied to. So she stayed quiet and simply gave him a nod, letting him continue.
“She snuck out to speak with the Reyes men which she was not supposed to do and took one of my men with her. He told me about the confrontation.”
Camila gave no reaction. The fact that he said he was here to apologize implied he was upset most with Emily. She just hoped that was all he was here for. Placing his hand on his chest, he continued.
“That was inappropriate of her to do and I apologize on her behalf. I hope that you can forgive the transgression.”
Camila nodded and wondered to herself if any of this was even true. She may have stayed as far away as she could, but she had seen men like this when Chris was getting into the game. Men who said things that were total lies simply to manipulate you into thinking what they wanted. He could be telling the truth and be genuinely upset and embarrassed about what Emily had done, seeing as it had disrespected her own husband and Camila both. Or this could’ve all been just a ploy. A way of putting fear into Camila that he knew who she was, where she worked and who she was involved with. Evening the score by having EZ see that as easily as he could organize meetings with Emily, Miguel could meet with his woman just the same. She may have been wrong, but Cam felt it was a little of both. Him wanting to make sure it was known he wasn’t happy with the meetings between Emily and her ex, and that his reach in EZ’s life extended far beyond the clubhouse walls. Wanting the situation to be over, Camila nodded. She didn’t want to shoot herself in the foot by saying too much so she spoke vaguely.
“It’s alright. I know things had been chaotic.”
Miguel gave a nod of his own and placed his hand on the desk, looking down at his watch to check the time. He spared a glance out the bookstore window and looked at the man leaning against the car he must’ve come in, purple button up and his dark hair in braids. Tapping the desk, Miguel pulled his hands away and stood up straight, offering Camila another warm smile.
“Well, I appreciate you being so understanding, señorita. Take care.”
“You too, Miguel.”
His smile widened, showing perfectly aligned teeth and he walked away from the desk toward the door, exiting the bookstore and getting into the vehicle.
Taglist: @caramara3 @lostgirl219 @mrsjaxtellerfan @actuallyazriel @vannabanana1995 @unnecessarypineapplesstuff @thegreat-annamaria @negansdirtygirl22 @svintsandghosts @piccasoe @tobesurroundedbysplendidthings @jadert15 @lovejn29 @may114 @meltingicequeen
#el destino#ez reyes#Felipe Reyes#Mayans MC#angel reyes#EZ x Camila#miguel galindo#mayans imagine#imagines
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Laredo Part 2 Week 2
First photo is yesterday’s grocery haul. Second and third photos show our stock of underwear and boys’ clothes. Fourth photo shows our COVID isolation building, the last photo is the church hall that has been converted into an emergency shelter to accommodate the 200-300 people staying each night at La Frontera. The main shelter building can only accommodate about 150.
I’ve been back in Laredo for about 2 weeks now, which is how long I stayed the last time I was here. I still have about 2 weeks left. Last time I was here I remember being completely and utterly burnt out by the end of 2 weeks and I can feel myself burning out again now.
I’ve been splitting my days between the two shelters, La Frontera and Holding, and they are so different. At La Frontera I feel very welcomed and involved and useful and the people seem a bit friendlier, but the flip side of that is that there is so much chaos and lack of organization it honestly stresses me out so much. There are just so many people in such desperate need all the time and there are maybe 3-4 volunteers each day trying to prioritize which crisis needs to be dealt with first. Usually that ends up being transportation and food. Things like clothing and cleaning and toiletries and organization have fallen by the wayside. We’ve been getting hundreds and hundreds of people in really terrible conditions clear until 2:30 in the morning every single day and we just simply do not have the people needed to make it run smoothly, so volunteers in the evening have just been opening the closet and letting folks grab what they need at random, which results in even more chaos and disorganization. The last few days when I’ve come in there have just been enormous piles of stuff all over the floor and garbage everywhere. It is really stressful.
Yesterday we realized that no one had gone grocery shopping, and there wasn’t much food left in the pantry. I don’t know how that system normally works, if there even is one, from what I can tell it is random volunteers buying food and occasionally community members donating food. We cooked all the food there was and served as many people as we could but here were about 250 people at breakfast who hadn’t eaten in several days.
Most of the groups that come in haven’t eaten in several days, but this group looked truly, truly desperate for food. The children were all screaming and the adults were trying to hold themselves back so as to not push or shove but I could tell it was hard. The heartbreaking part was that we didn’t have enough food for all of them, and about 50 folks went without food. We didn’t even have anything like granola bars or bread slices or cereal or anything to offer them.
Me and one of the nuns went to the grocery store and bought two fulls carts worth of food, we bought this yesterday morning and already today it is almost all gone. I feel frustrated with the leadership at this shelter, it feels like there is none. One of the directors is constantly out of the building driving people places and doesn’t answer her phone and the other is constantly putting out fires with border patrol and the police and the hospital and the city government, etc so she is never there either. The entire shelter depends on the 3-4 community members and out of town volunteers that show up at irregular hours and most of whom only stay for a few days.
The worst part is seeing how this lack of organization impacts the people coming through, who are already dealing with a lot of trauma and I know the chaos here isn’t helping.
But there’s only so much we can do. I started falling apart this morning after wading through so much garbage to try to get through the kitchen. I got very overwhelmed and started getting snappy at people, which doesn’t help anyone. One of the newer volunteers stepped up to help while I took a break. When I came back the both of us were able to get a number of the folks staying at the shelter to help us. We got folks to clean up all the garbage and clean the tables and sweep the floors and help us with the food. They were happy to help and were appreciative of what we were doing.
I’ve been at La Frontera shelter from 9-2 most days, which is usually when we finish serving lunch. Then I head over to Holding Community Center until about 7pm. The difference between the two shelters is night and day. While La Frontera has only 2 paid employees, Holding has 18 employees, most of whom are on site for the entire day 7 days a week. It makes an enormous difference. The flip side of that though is that I don’t feel super helpful there and the people have kind of set systems in place and a few staff members don’t seem very open to volunteers coming in to help as they are overwhelmed and don’t want anyone upsetting their system. It’s also different in that all of the folks staying here stay outside or in the vacant classrooms at the community center, the volunteers all work in a separate building and very rarely directly interact with the folks staying there. So while I’m there I essentially sit at a table and organize baby wipes and baby food for 3.5 hours straight. Then I help serve dinner and then I’m done for the day. We aren’t allowed to directly interact with the folks staying here because there are a lot of cases of COVID on the buses, the folks staying here tested negative but were still exposed so we’re trying to be very careful, but still it is kind of frustrating when folks knock on the door and ask for things like a bottle of water and to hear that I’m not allowed to give them water until a specific time or else everyone is going to be trying to get one. It’s definitely two ends of a spectrum.
I’ve been trying to interact with folks by doing a ‘diaper cart’ every afternoon. I load up a cart with diapers and formula and wipes and just walk around outside offering things to people.
Today I helped serve dinner to the main group of COVID negative people, but then I was also asked to bring dinner over to the group of people who tested positive for COVID. They are being quarantined in an empty warehouse across the street. They have nurses there and everyone wears masks. They have to quarantine for at least 10 days, and receive one change of clothes and a hygiene kit when they first arrive. They get a blanket and a cot and stay there until they recover. I hadn’t been over there before and was a bit nervous about it.
It was truly terrible to see. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a more miserable place. We stood in the doorway while folks lined up by the door. We handed food off to the nurses and they then handed the food to the people waiting in line. There were at least 100 people in there, packed wall to wall on cots and all of them coughing and looking so sick.
The medical team was treating them well and they had the basics that they needed, but it just broke my heart seeing so many sick people in one place. The hospitals will not accept them because they don’t have health insurance. Most were exposed to COVID in ICE detention, because ICE does not test the people they detain and keep people confined in close quarters for extended periods of time. If folks get extremely ill the hospital will accept them for 48 hours. The shelter is the only place in town that will accept them, if the shelter was not there ICE would have just left them on the street.
It’s been a really long week. I’m trying to not let all of this get to me. The most difficult part I think is seeing all of these problems and feeling so powerless to help. At La Frontera shelter it seems like a neverending crisis and lack of resources and organization that me as a part time volunteer cannot realistically fix, which is really hard to accept. There were some rooms I came across today that were in such a state of disarray I just had to close the door and walk away, because there was no way I could take that on. At Holding, there are enough resources and organization, but seeing the people quarantined and seeing the busloads that come in each day of more and more sick people breaks my heart. Right when I was walking out the door at 6:45pm today a busload of 130 more people arrived, and staff was trying to decide if they should feed them or test them for COVID first, because the medical staff and the food team were leaving for the night and they didn’t know what to do. It was hard to accept that there wasn’t really anything I could do in that situation.
I’m trying to do what I can. I’ve been fundraising and have raised around $750 so far. I’m planning on using most of it for underwear and food for La Frontera shelter. Both shelters depend entirely upon donations though and I know that even if I spend all of that money today that all of the donations bought from it would likely be gone by the end of the week.
What really needs to happen here is systemic change. There needs to be drastic changes to our immigration policies, ICE as an institution needs to be shut down or at the bare minimum be investigated for their treatment of folks being detained by them. The fact that people come out of there exposed to COVID and without having eaten for several days is unconscionable. There needs to be government funding and disaster relief teams for folks seeking asylum, it is absurd that a bunch of random volunteers and community organizations are having to take on a humanitarian crisis of this scale.
I’ll go into this in a later post, but the United States is almost entirely responsible for creating the conditions that have caused so many folks to flee their home countries. It is the absolute bare minimum that the US can do to accept folks that are fleeing the situations that we created. They do not want to leave their homes, they are being forced to.
Rant over.
Until next time,
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Insanity | A Hwang Hyunjin Series | Part 6
Parts: [Prologue] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Epilogue]
Word Count: 4226
Type: ANGST, FLUFF
Warnings: insanity, self-harm, suicide, drugs, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, physical violence
Tag List: @arohatiny, @malibuxw, @jisungsjheekies, @channiesmixtape, @minnepinne
Author’s Note: Guess who shows up in this chapter? 👀
Side note: y’all keep changing your usernames, which is making it very difficult to tag you. So if you guys don’t get tagged, I’m sorry ):
When Hyunjin arrived in your room the next morning, he was surprised to see you were fast asleep. Since he started working at the hospital, you’ve always been an early riser. He couldn’t help but wonder if something happened after he left yesterday.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Chan smiled at Hyunjin. The older boy looked worn out and tired.
Hmm... Chan doesn’t normally look so worn out after a shift. Something must have happened last night. Perhaps night terrors? You’ve been having them sporadically over the past couple of months, but lately, it seemed as though you were having them constantly. “Tough night?”
“Very.” Chan sighed. “She’s been having nightmares all night. I tried to comfort her, but nothing was working.”
“Oh no…” Hyunjin sighed. The poor thing just couldn’t catch a break. You’ve been through so much over the past few months and now you have to suffer with nightmares that keep you from sleeping through the night. He wished you would talk to him about them — tell him what you were seeing when you closed your eyes at night, but... he understood why you didn’t want to.
“Dr. Douglas walked past her room when she was in the middle of a panic attack.” Chan sighed.
Hyunjin mentally cursed his luck. “Of course he did. What did he do?”
“He let me handle it.” Chan paused. “He suggested more Peroproxin. I agreed, but I haven’t given her anything.”
Hyunjin nodded. “Thank you.” Words couldn’t describe how grateful Hyunjin was for Chan. Every single time you take a dose of Peroproxin, you wind up having horrible anxiety attacks. Hyunjin couldn’t bear to see you go through that again.
“Of course.” Chan smiled. “I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure she’ll enjoy your company more than mine.”
Hyunjin waved at Chan before heading to your bedside, brows creasing when he saw you squirming in your sleep.
Oh no…
Hyunjin wished he could give you something to take the nightmares away, whether it be a pretty dreamcatcher or a plushie to hug. Unfortunately, the hospital wouldn’t allow any of that. Hyunjin shook your shoulder, startling you awake before you went into a full panic.
You frantically sat up, eyes scanning the room as you caught your breath. As soon as your eyes met Hyunjin’s you dove into his arms, startling the young doctor. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, so slowly — so gently, anyone would think you were made of glass. “Hey sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m here now. What’s going on?”
“I had a nightmare.” You sniffled. “A bad one… I think.” Your hands grasped Hyunjin’s shirt, pulling the doctor as close as physically possible. “I don’t remember what happened. I feel like it’s a memory, but I just... I can’t —” You started to tear up.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Hyunjin ran his fingers through your hair. “Don’t work yourself up.” Hyunjin leaned his head against yours. “You’re okay.”
“I’m sick of not knowing anything.” You pulled back and wiped your tears. “I’ve been here for a couple of years and I don’t know why. I haven’t seen my family in ages. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m just scared Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin could feel his heart shatter as he saw the hopelessness in your eyes. You were giving up on yourself. He couldn’t allow you to do that. “I know sweetheart.” Hyunjin rested his hands on your shoulders, soft brown eyes boring into yours. “I can help you with that.”
“You can stop these nightmares?” You sighed and wiped the tears off your cheeks.
“No… Umm. I can use some therapy practices to dig those memories out of your brain.” Hyunjin smiled softly, eager eyes searching yours for any signs of hesitation. “Do you want to try it?”
You thought about it for a moment. Was that even possible? Would Hyunjin be able to help you recover your lost memories? You didn’t want to let him down. “You really think I can remember what happened?”
“Yes indeed.” Hyunjin pulled back, tapping his index finger on his temple, a strange habit you grew to love. “Memory repression was discovered by Sigmund Freud. According to him, people who suffer from severe traumatic experiences can unconsciously reject those memories. Patients have been known to forget the entire situation as if it never happened!
This was discovered in the late 1980s when there was a series of allegations of child abuse in the U.S. With the help of therapists and counselors, the children were able to recall certain memories. Of course, psychologists wondered if the claims were valid.
There’s no ethical way to study memory repression in a controlled setting, so there’s no way to know how repression works. I’ve heard of many cases where patients tried to recover memories, but there were inconclusive results because the brain tends to replace traumatic memories with false memories.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle as you watched Hyunjin pace about the room. His eyebrows were knit in concentration as he spouted information as if he was a human textbook. A small smile tugged at your lips as you watched the genius's lips move, intelligent words tugging at your heartstrings as he told you about how fucked up your brain was.
“That’s what I’m worried about with you.” Hyunjin turned to face you. “Recovering repressed memories can dig up some bigger issues. We can try using hypnosis or guided visualization, but some experts believe those techniques aren’t reliable.” Hyunjin paused, a small pout forming on his lips. “Sometimes recovering those memories can create new symptoms. You’ve been through too much already. I don’t want this to set you back at all.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Hyunjin kept going, making you smile.
“There are many studies out there that have proven it’s possible for the brain to create false memories. Sometimes they can remember those fake memories in more detail than their actual memories. Unfortunately, it’s almost impossible to tell what memories are true or false.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at the boy the longer the tangent went on. “Hyunjin?”
Hyunjin paused, eyes widening as his cheeks flushed. “Right… Sorry.” He chuckled nervously. “My point is, I can help you recover those memories if you want, but it is risky.”
“How so?”
“Well…” Hyunjin paused and sighed. “These memories had to be traumatic for your brain to stash them away. Are you sure you want to know what happened?”
You paused. Hyunjin was right. What if remembering those things would be too scary? What if you uncovered memories you never wanted to see? Maybe you were better off not knowing anything, content in your make-believe life you managed to conjure up while you were stuck in the institution. Still… that’s not a life. You were dying to know who you really were. You nodded. “I want to try.”
Hyunjin smiled softly. “Okay, why don’t we sit on the bed.” Hyunjin sat on the mattress and pat the spot next to him. “Turn and face me, and hold my hands.”
You did as the boy asked, sitting criss-cross in front of him as your hands slid into his. Anxiety bubbled in your chest as you prayed that you’d be able to uncover something... anything! Even if it was a small memory. You haven’t seen your mother in ages. Perhaps you could uncover memories of her? Hyunjin squeezed your hand and — God, it felt nice having his long fingers intertwined with yours.
“Perfect.” Hyunjin smiled brightly at you, making your heart soar. “Can you close your eyes for me?” You shut your eyes, hands tightening around Hyunjin’s as you fidgeted. Sure, you trusted Hyunjin but having your eyes shut made you uneasy. The sounds of Hyunjin’s soft breathing made you feel calm. “Very good.” His gentle voice made you feel safe. “You’re doing great.”
“I hope so.” You giggled. “I just closed my eyes.”
“And you closed your eyes like a pro.” Hyunjin chuckled. “Now, I want you to think about that dream you had.” Hyunjin’s voice lowered ever-so-slightly. “Can you tell me what you saw?”
“I saw…” For a minute, you completely blanked. What did you see? Where were you? Oh… you were walking down the street at night. You could recall seeing a van. “I saw a navy blue mini-van.” You said. “I think it was blue anyways… Maybe it was black?”
“Very good.” Hyunjin’s soft voice made you feel safer.
You could vaguely remember walking down the street, the street lamps illuminating the sign of a very familiar bakery. You could recall the smell of fresh-baked bread and pastries, the beautiful cupcakes resting in the display case, the art hanging on the walls. “There was a bakery.” You smiled. “I used to go there every morning. My friend owned that bakery.”
Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile at your excitement. “Very good.” He traced the outside of your hand with his thumb for no reason in particular. Your hands were so soft… he could hold them all day…
Oh, but that’s not something he should be thinking about right now. “Was it night?”
You nodded. “I was heading home.” Your brows creased. “I don’t know where I was, but I know I was trying to get home.” You walked right by the van and — you could see flashes of a struggle, a man holding your arms back as you thrashed, a searing pain in your head.
Your eyes snapped open. “I can’t do this anymore.” You stood up and pulled your hands out of Hyunjin’s. “I can’t do it. I can’t.” You started to breathe fast, hands rubbing your arms. “I can’t.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Hyunjin quickly pulled you into his arms. “You did so well sweetheart.” He pursed his lips as he felt you shake in his arms. He was so curious — he wanted to ask what you saw, but now wasn’t the time. God, he shouldn’t have tried to resurface those memories.
“Hey, look at me.” Hyunjin pulled away from you, resting his hands on your shoulders as your teary eyes met his. “It’s a process. We won’t uncover everything right away.”
“You’re right.” You wiped your tears and sniffled.
Why did this hurt so bad? Hyunjin sighed as his chest tightened. It felt like his heart was being pulled in two different directions. Here you were, a girl who’s confessed, a girl who has admitted her love for him, and Hyunjin couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He couldn't find the courage to kiss you, to hold you, to tell you how he felt. All he could do was sit and stare at you.
“Oi! Dumbass.”
Yes, he was a dumbass. Wait…
Hyunjin couldn’t help but snort when Minho popped his head through the door, looking obviously annoyed. “It’s almost the end of my shift, I thought you were coming over like an hour ago.” He chuckled. “Are you coming or not?”
“Where are you going?” You looked at Hyunjin in confusion. He usually doesn’t leave unless it’s absolutely necessary. Frankly, you didn’t want to be without the boy. “Can you stay?”
Hyunjin smiled and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “We are going to meet someone.”
You grinned and stood up, tightening your grip around Hyunjin’s hand. This felt so natural — like you were meant to have your hand in his. “Who are we going to meet?”
“We’re going to meet Minho’s friend. His name is Han Jisung.” Hyunjin followed after Minho as the three of you walked down the hallways to Room 318.
Minho opened the door and rolled his eyes. “Seriously Asher? I asked you to watch him for five minutes.” Sure enough, Asher was lounging in one of the chairs, thumb swiping left and right as he swiped through a random app on his phone.
“It’s not my fault you took so damn long.” Asher sighed. “I have shit to do.”
“Like play Candy Crush?” Hyunjin snickered, making Minho snort and laugh.
“Shut the fuck up Hyunjin. This doesn’t concern you.” Asher took a step forward. The boy wasn’t quite as tall as Hyunjin — in fact, Hyunjin had a good few inches on Asher. However, the shorter boy was packing some serious muscle.
You released your grip on Hyunjin’s hand, shifting behind him the closer Asher got to the tall boy. Your hands wrapped around his arm as you leaned your head between Hyunjin’s shoulder blades as if his back would protect you from the angry man in front of you two.
“Asher, just get your shit and leave.” Minho sighed. “I’m not in the mood for this drama.”
You glanced over at the pile of papers Minho pointed to, immediately spotting your name. Why did Asher have your medical information? Do those papers contain information about your past? You slowly let go of Hyunjin’s arm and walked over to the papers while Asher had his back turned, attention completely on Minho. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to walk away, but there were so many unanswered questions. You were dying to know.
“Drama?” Asher scoffed. “You think I’m creating this mess?”
“No one else is talking.” Minho frowned. “You’re the only one with your panties in a twist about watching a patient for five fucking minutes. I’m back. You’re done. Now go.” Minho gestured to the door.
Jisung burst into a fit of giggles at Minho’s words. “Panties!” He laughed hysterically. “I bet you wear those pretty pink ones.”
Something completely snapped in Asher. Pure rage filled his eyes as he stalked towards Jisung, finger pointing in his direction. “You shut the fuck up.”
“Hey!” Minho stepped in front of Jisung before Asher could do anything. “Get out now.”
Your head snapped to the chaos as you reached behind you, grabbing the packet of papers while Asher was occupied. You moved quick, rushing to Hyunjin’s side to shove the papers in his chest. Hyunjin looked confused as his eyes quickly scanned the contents. “What is this?” He whispered in your ear.
“Hide it now.” You were practically shaking, afraid that Asher would turn around any minute and catch you stealing from him. If he was THIS angry after being teased, you couldn’t imagine how pissed off he’d be once he finds out you stole from him.
Hyunjin quickly slid the papers in his bag, confusion evident on his face as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. He’d have to look at the papers later when the immediate threat of being beaten down wasn’t on the table.
“I’m not done with him.” Asher snarled, hand curling up in a fist as if he was ready to punch anything standing in his way.
“Get. Out. I won’t say it again.” Minho leaned forward, practically touching noses with the angry boy.
God, you’ve never seen such fury in Minho’s eyes. Usually, the older boy had such kind, sparkly eyes. At that moment, they were filled with pure hatred. You hoped you would never have to see those angry eyes directed at you.
“Just get out before you embarrass yourself further. It’s not like you’re a real doctor anyway.” Hyunjin crossed his arms over his chest, chuckling as Asher’s head snapped to him. “Oh? Did I upset you?” Hyunjin taunted the boy.
“The fuck are you talking about?” Asher snarled.
“See, I thought it was suspicious that you knew absolutely nothing about the prescription process, so I went ahead and looked at your records,” Hyunjin smirked. “Guess who doesn’t have a medical degree?”
Asher turned bright red and lunged for Hyunjin, knocking him back into the wall. The man’s hand wrapped around Hyunjin’s throat. “Shut the fuck up!” You’d expect Hyunjin to look afraid, but the boy merely glared at Asher, fury evident in those chocolate eyes.
“Jinnie.” You tried to run to his aid, but Minho grabbed you and pulled you away from the chaos, so you wouldn’t get hurt.
Hyunjin was afraid — very much so in fact — but he couldn’t show any fear. He didn’t want to frighten you. He ignored the rapid thumping in his chest and practically growled. “Get out of this room, right now.”
You could see what was going to happen — it was plain as day. You managed to slip out of Minho’s grasp right as Asher pulled his fist back. Before he had the opportunity to throw a punch, you threw your body at him, nails clawing his arm as you pulled him away from Hyunjin. “Stop please.”
Asher threw his arm back, hurling you into the corner of the room. Blood ran down his arm as he stalked towards you, ready to fight. Your body was shaking against the cold tile floor. You just wanted to protect Hyunjin. Before Asher got too close, Hyunjin stepped in front of him. “Leave now, before I tell the whole hospital about this.”
Asher merely chuckled. “Oh, and what good that would do.” The boy glared in your direction before heading out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
You lifted your sore body off the ground and clung to Hyunjin’s side, making the boy’s heart melt. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, hand rubbing your back to soothe you. “It’s alright. He’s gone now.” Hyunjin kneeled in front of you, holding your hands in his as he asked, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, throwing the boy off guard. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you frantically tried to explain yourself. “I didn’t want you hurt.”
“Shh. I know.” Hyunjin rubbed your back. “But that was dangerous.”
Jisung watched the entire exchange intently, eyes narrowing when he saw the blatant affection. It was unusual to spot things like this in the institution. It was rare to find a doctor who cares half as much as Hyunjin or Minho. But that wasn’t a Doctor/Patient relationship… That was love.
“Well, now that asshole is gone.” Minho sighed. “This is Han Jisung.”
Your cheeks flushed as you parted from Hyunjin, suddenly realizing how unusual it was to cling to your doctor. You smiled at Jisung, immediately noticing how confused he looked. Well… more like — he was out of it. Jisung looked like he completely understood what was going on around him, but it looked as though he was living in a fog.
“I told Hyunjin this last night, but Jisung used to work with me.” Minho smiled sadly. “The hospital claimed he went crazy and killed a worker, but…” Minho paused, frowning. “I know for a fact that’s not true.”
Hyunjin smiled and walked over to Jisung’s bedside. “You look well Jisung. It seems like Minho takes good care of you.”
“I always take good care of my patients.” Minho pouted, cheeks flushing slightly. “I’ve been taking away Peroproxin, but Dr. Douglas always has his nose down my back when I’m giving Jisung his medication.” Minho sighed. “So he’s still getting some.”
Hyunjin nodded. “Do you remember how you got here?”
Out of nowhere, Jisung burst into a fit of giggles. “Tell me… When is a doctor most annoyed?”
What?
Hyunjin looked at Minho in confusion. “Uh —”
“Yeah, he does that.” Minho interrupted Hyunjin. “He’s either spouting crazy nonsense, completely sane, or he’s making you feel like a dumbass with those riddles.”
“You guys are too stupid to play with me.” Jisung pouted, making Minho chuckle.
“Yep. All the people with medical degrees are dumbasses.” Minho laughed. “Even the genius can’t figure it out.”
“Yes, I can.” Hyunjin pouted. “When is the doctor most annoyed…” He tapped his index finger on his temple as he tried to think of an answer. He was never good at riddles. Oftentimes, the answer is plain and simple, and Hyunjin’s brain always had to look into every single option.
“Patients.” You whispered to yourself, catching Hyunjin’s attention.
“You know the answer sweetheart?” He smiled. “What is it?”
Oh God, you didn’t think he heard you! You really didn’t want to chance looking like an idiot in front of a couple of smart doctors. Besides, you weren’t 100% sure that you were correct. You weren’t sure if you could take the teasing that would come with being wrong. “No, I didn’t say anything.” You grabbed onto Hyunjin’s arm once more, making the boy smile.
Jisung giggled and made kissy faces towards the two of you, making your cheeks flush bright red. “Stop that.” You let go of Hyunjin’s arm, noticing the faint blush coating his cheeks as Minho burst into a fit of laughter.
“Jesus, you guys seriously need to —”
“When he runs out of patients.” Jisung interrupted the three of you. You were grateful to see Minho and Hyunjin’s attention completely on Jisung, teasing completely forgotten as Jisung started to laugh at his own joke. “Get it? Patience? Patients?”
Hyunjin chuckled. “You deal with this —”
“Every fucking day.” Minho laughed. “He makes me feel like an idiot sometimes.” Despite the harsh words, you could tell Minho enjoyed spending time with Jisung.
“How did you try to escape?” Hyunjin asked Jisung, eager eyes waiting for his answer.
“Tell me, boy… There are two stupid convicts locked in a cell — or more like a dungeon of rock and rubble. There is an unbarred window high up in the cell. It doesn’t matter what these idiots do — whether they stand on the bed, or on top of each other — they can’t reach the window. They want to dig a tunnel out, but they give up on that idea because it’ll take too long and they’ll be long dead before they escape.” Jisung smirked and leaned forward towards Hyunjin. “One of them figures it out. What’s his plan?”
Hyunjin pursed his lips as he tried to figure it out. There are only two options, right? Either they dig a tunnel to freedom, or somehow they find a way to get up to the window… But Jisung just said neither was an option…
Oh! Hyunjin had it.
“They’d still dig.” Hyunjin smiled. “They would dig and pile up the dirt until they could reach the window. They would only need to get enough dirt piled up, so they can lean the bed back on the headboard. Then they could use the bed as a ladder to reach the window.”
“Wow, you’re a smart one.” Jisung laughed.
Wait… Hyunjin pieced something together. “This had to have been your plan before you turned into a patient.”
“Ding ding ding!” Jisung giggled.
“How though?” Minho frowned. “That wasn’t in our plan at all…” He trailed off.
“He was a hostage before he was a patient.” Hyunjin smiled sadly. “He was probably forced into a cell before he turned into this.”
You sighed. “How do we get out of here?” Your hands gripped Hyunjin’s arm tightly.
“I can bring tears to your eyes; resurrect the dead, make you smile, and reverse time. I form in an instant but last a lifetime.” Jisung sighed, sadness evident in his features.
“A memory.” You knew the answer, it was a riddle you knew well from an activity book Hyunjin gave you months ago. “It’s a memory.”
“What a smart girl you have on your arm.” Jisung smiled.
Memories… Hyunjin pursed his lips as he tried to think. Sure, your memories were gone, and so were Jisung’s but what would recovering those memories do, aside from putting both of you through more fear and trauma? “I don’t get it,” Hyunjin mumbled.
“I do,” Minho spoke up. “The best way to get out of here is to use the exit plan Jisung created years ago. We planned to leave with one other person…” Minho trailed off.
“Wait, you never mentioned another person.” Hyunjin frowned. “Who do we need to look for?”
“It’s because that fucker and I don’t get along.” Minho sighed. “Dr. Demain was the other party. We needed him to escape.”
“What happened?”
“Well, Dr. Demain threatened to kill me after Jisung was taken. I only learned weeks later that he and Jisung were close for a long time. They created this plan long before I arrived at the hospital, but this dumbass felt the need to save me too.” Minho sighed. “I was the reason nobody escaped.”
Hyunjin felt bad for the boy. Of course, he’d blame himself for this. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I don’t really know what happened, but you’re too kind to betray others.” You rested your hand on Minho’s, making the boy smile sadly.
Jisung watched the exchange before speaking up. “There are what-ifs and why-nots in every memory, but good decisions come from mistakes you’ve made in the past. Without regret, you wouldn’t have a fire to light the torch — the torch that will lead you out of the darkness.” Jisung chuckled and stated calmly, “Every single wall in this institution is coated in the loveliest shade of red.”
Hyunjin’s blood ran cold at Jisung’s words. That pretty much said it all. The institution was full of murder and deceit. He felt your grip tighten on his arm. The room was tense. Something was going to happen.
Jisung laughed maniacally before he dug his nails into his own arms, drawing a decent amount of blood. The boy continued to scratch at his own arms, coating them in red as he giggled at nothing.
“Stop!” You cried as Hyunjin left your side. Minho grabbed Jisung’s arms and held them away from his body, forcing the boy to stop hurting himself. Hyunjin quickly sedated the boy, heart panging in his chest as Jisung fell limp against the bed.
Minho sighed and quickly pulled out the first aid kit. “Thank you, but you need to get her out of here.”
Hyunjin shifted his gaze to your shaking frame, hand covering your mouth as you tried not to cry. He grabbed your hand and ran his thumb over your knuckles. “Let’s go sweetheart. You don’t need to see any more of this.”
#hwang hyunjin imagines#hwang hyunjin#hwang hyunjin scenarios#hwang hyunjin angst#hwang hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids scenarios#stray kids#skz#hwang hyunjin fanfictions#stray kids hwang hyunjin#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids angst#skz angst#kpop angst#angst#my writing#tw: panic attack#tw: self harm#tw: violence#tw: physical violence#tw: blood#tw: nightmares#tw: drugs
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Love, Tabby
Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC(Tabby)... so not really “Original Character” lol
Summary: Tabby is turning 30 today and Dean has a special surprise in store for her.
A/N: So Monday is Tabby’s 30th birthday, but we are celebrating it today, so this is my birthday present to you @winchest09. I really hope you like it, I LOVE YOU !!!
Warnings: HEAVY FLUFF.
Word Count: 4,659
Tabby woke up in her bed, feeling grumpy as she did every time she woke up. Reaching over, she felt a cold spot where her husband usually was, fear settling in her heart. Shooting up out of bed, she put on her clothes and rushed to the door, noticing a piece of paper attached to the frame.
Confused, she pulled it off of the tape and took a look at the note, “Hey, sweetheart. I know you’re probably freaking out over where I am and if I’m alright. I’m fine. I’ve set up a little scavenger hunt for you, and yes, you have to do it,” she chuckled as she shook her head. “Maybe you will find out what it’s for as you go along, but for right now, I’m gonna give you five.”
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, “Five what?”
Turning the paper over to its back, she saw five numbers with writing next to them, “#1-You’re kind - I’ve never met someone with such a pure and honest heart. The kindness you treat others with never ceases to amaze me, even if they were an asshole at some bar. It’s one of the reasons that I fell for you,” she smiled, his words warming her heart.
“#2- You’re thoughtful - Whenever I feel like shit, or even Sam, you always know. You always cook us a meal, or talk to us and somehow manage to make us open up. You always make me feel so loved. I never thought that I deserved it, but you’re always there to help me, no matter what,” she felt anger bubble up inside of her, he did deserve love, and she would never stop trying to convince him.
“#3- You’re compassionate - It’s like you have some kind of superpower to be able to feel how others are. Whenever I felt at my lowest, you were right there with me. It seemed like you felt the exact pain I was going through and because of that, I never felt alone. You are the reason that I never feel alone.”
“#4- You’re an awesome friend - Even before we started dating, you were always so attentive, so helpful. You set the bar high for anyone who tries to call themselves a good friend. When Sam was struggling and hurting, you even went out and bought him a salad. A damn salad! You put on his favorite TV show and sat down with him the entire night. I remember he told me the day after that if I didn’t marry you, he would kill me,” she chuckled and blushed, happy that his brother wanted them to be together as well.
“#5- You’re a great mom - Ever since our girl was born, you were always hovering over her, always making sure she was safe and healthy. I swear I’ve had to drag you away from her crib just so you could get some sleep when she was first born. The amount of love that you look at our kid with, I never knew how much it would affect me. Whenever we’re asleep, if she cries, you always told me to go back to sleep and that you would handle it. No other mom could compare to you, and I know our kid knows that too,” she began to tear up. “Damn it, Dean. Making me cry this early in the morning,” she choked out a laugh, wiping her eyes.
Below the fifth number, there was some more writing, “Go to the place that you and Sam have hung out the most. This should be an easy one,” she could practically see his eye roll as he wrote this and instantly knew where to look, the library.
She left the room with the paper in her hand and made her way over to the library. She didn’t realize it, but he could have probably hidden the paper somewhere within the hundreds of books they had. Huffing, she solidified her resolve and got to digging, opening up books and flipping through them to see if the paper was inside. After about a half hour and two hundred books later, she sighed out tired and sat down on one of the chairs at the table.
“How the hell am I-” she began before she perked up. She remembered that she and Sam had spent a lot of time under the table when they first met; they wrote basically all the most important information they could need on monsters in bullet points. She also remembered Dean saying they were acting like children but she didn’t care, it was a great way to bond with Sam and they both had a lot of fun.
Reaching under the table and feeling around, she felt a piece of paper taped to the bottom, “Bingo.”
Pulling it out from under the table, “I know the first note had a bit of stuff written before the numbers, but moving on, mostly just the numbers and the location of the next paper will be written.”
Bracing herself, she turned over the paper and began to read, “#6- You’re selfless - You care about others more than yourself. While other people call that heroic, I hate it. You always want to jump in front of me when a monster is attacking or pushing me out of the way, when really, I’m the one who should be doing that. You’ve given me so many goddamn heart attacks, I’m gonna die one of these days. But I also love it, because it goes to show just how incredible you are. Always looking out for other people was my thing, but then you came along and smacked me in the face. I remember you said, “Well then who the hell is gonna look out for you, Winchester?” I’ve come to realize that I love it, because I know you will always be there for me,” she giggled, remembering that very day where she slapped him and told him that.
“#7- You’re super smart - I thought that Sam was smart, but then you came along. You taught us both things that we never knew and I’ve always been jealous of how smart you are. Don’t feel bad babe, I’m just trying to compliment you. Every time we were stumped on a hunt, you spent no more than five minutes thinking before you figured out a way to get us out or to save more people. You’re the reason so many of our hunts go better than they would normally, and I know every family we save is grateful to you for that.”
“#8- You’re aces at researching - I hate researching, we all know that. But with you, Sam finally had someone to geek out with and to help research on a case. Both of your minds combined prove to be the most powerful thing in this world, no monster stands a chance. I have no idea how you actually enjoy it but I won't argue with it, for it’s saved all of our asses multiple times.”
“#9- You can cut a man's hair like a boss - Neither me or Sam are big fans of barber shops, so I’m also extremely thankful that you can cut hair. I don’t think anyone has cut my hair as well as you have, and you always manage to get it just the way I want it. I love you,” no matter how many times she heard him say it, it always managed to make her blush and her heart to beat faster.
Smiling, she continued, “#10- You’re a great photographer - I never liked pictures and honestly I don’t think that I ever will. Thankfully, you force me to get in them and I’m so glad that you do. Because of it, we have so many beautiful pictures to look at and reminisce. My favorite picture you’ve taken was the one of all of us together. You set up the camera and had us all sit down on the couch, our kid on my lap. The happiness I felt that day with all of you was one of the greatest I had ever felt in my life. I will be forever grateful to you that you took that picture.”
Once again, there was more writing underneath the numbers, “Go to the place where I spend the most time in the bunker.”
It took her all of three seconds to know where he was talking about, their bedroom. She was slightly confused, due to the fact that the first paper was there, but continued on and went to their shared bedroom.
Opening the door, she looked around and wondered where the hell he could have put it. The bed? The closet? Under one of the guns? She thought back to his exact words “I spend the most time” and blushed. When they first started dating and even after they got married, Dean was insatiable. Always dragging her to the bed to try out something new, but she loved it every time. Walking over to the bed, she flung over the sheets to the side and saw a piece of paper under them on Dean’s side of the bed.
Grabbing the paper, she read, “I could almost see the blush on your face babe, turn to the back,” she blushed harder at the fact that he knew exactly what she was thinking and followed his instructions.
“#11- You’re a loving wife - I never thought that someone as perfect and beautiful as you would even give me a second glance. Turns out, you would. I thought that you were just infatuated and that you would “get over me” but thank God you proved me wrong. Every single day, you make sure that I feel cherished, and I can’t even put into words how incredible that feels. I’ve never felt loved in the way that you give me before, and it’s a feeling that I never want to lose. I love you more than I’ve loved anything in my entire life.” She could feel the tears falling from her eyes onto the piece of paper, “Dammit, Dean. Now you’ve done it,” she sniffled.
“#12- You have a great accent - Just hearing you talk is like music to my ears. Don’t even get me started on your laugh, it's one of the cutest things I’ve ever heard and I can’t help but laugh right along with you whenever you do. That very same voice comforts me when I feel like shit, compliments me when I try and look good for you, and whispers sexy nothings into my ear that drives me insane,” her blush from before returned instantly, her face red as a tomato, a nervous giggle escaping her lips.
“#13- You’re absolutely gorgeous - From the moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew that you were everything that I wanted. Your eyes shine brighter than any light I’ve ever seen and your body is perfect, no matter how self conscious you get. I swear if I could, I would grab all of your doubts and insecurities and send them straight into the Empty, because you are perfect. You don’t need makeup, your natural beauty already puts all other people to rest.”
“Am I gonna be blushing this entire damn day? Jesus, Dean,” she chuckled.
“#14- You have incredible red hair - After I met you, my new favorite color was red. The way it shines off of the sunlight as the wind flows it through your face. I could just sit there and watch you for hours. You put Rowena to shame, babe.”
“#15- You wear plaid and “Winchester Clothes” - I think you look perfect in anything you wear but damn, the way you look in my clothes. It’s one of the reasons why I can’t get enough of you,” her face was so heated that she felt like she was going to explode.
Taking a few moments to collect herself, she began reading once more, “You wear plaid better than Sam and I, and I’m all for it, babe.”
Once again, there was more writing underneath it, “Go to the thing I love fourth most on this planet.”
She knew that herself, Sam, and her child were the first three, so Baby had to be the fourth. Shaking her head with a laugh, she left the room and went over to the garage. She still didn’t understand the point of all of this, when will the numbers end? Why is it all about me? She had a few questions swimming around her mind but continued on regardless.
Reaching the garage, she walked over to Baby and opened the drivers side door, getting in and closing the door behind her. She looked around the seats and under them, checking the back as well. She was about to go check the trunk until she opened the passengers side compartment and saw a piece of paper inside.
“I know you must be wondering what this is all about since you’re adorably oblivious, but just enjoy the ride, sweetheart. You’re almost finished.” She sighed in annoyance with a smile on her face, “Who says I’m oblivious?”
She turned the paper around to see another five numbers written on it, “#16- You’re a good hugger - Now, while this might seem kinda like “ok?? What’s so good about that?” kinda thing, it isn’t to me. I can’t even count the amount of times that I felt broken, and you hugged me. It felt like you were slowly putting all the pieces back together by simply holding me. It gave me such a comforting feeling, once again reminding me that I wasn’t alone, and that you were there for me. I only hope that I can manage to do the same for you.”
“Of course you do, you dummy,” she laughed out, trying to hold her tears back. The sheer amount of times that she felt safe in his arms was uncountable. She was so grateful to him for that and she felt overjoyed that she was able to do the same for him.
“#17- You’re resilient - I remember the time that you were captured by demons to trap me. You held up for an entire day of torture without giving them an inch. I still haven’t forgiven myself for that, but I’m so glad that you managed to convince me to stay with you. We both remember how scared I was of losing you, how I still am. But if you didn’t convince me to stay, I wouldn’t be happy like I am now. I wouldn’t be married to the most incredible woman on this planet and I wouldn’t have a child that I would do anything for. I love you, Tabby.”
She vividly remembered that time, she also remembered how horrible she felt for putting Dean through that. She was just as glad as he was that they managed to get past it and move on with their relationship.
“#18- You have a vivid imagination - Before every hunt, you would always think of different ways that things could go down and explain it to us. Because of that, whenever the plan doesn’t work, we have what you perceived to help us win. You’re so incredible, sweetheart. That imagination has also helped in the bedroom, if you know what I mean.”
She could practically see the wink and smirk on his face, finding herself blushing once again at his implication, “You just had to go there, didn’t you?” she asked rhetorically with a chuckle.
“#19- You love me - Yeah yeah yeah, I said it, suck it up. I think you are incredible because you love me, alright? You make me feel special and… goddamn it, now you got me talking about chick flick stuff. The amount of love written in your eyes whenever you look at me never ceases to take my breath away. I’m so grateful to you that you chose me out of all people to give your love to, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to be the person that you deserve.”
She felt her heart warm at his words, but also anger began to rise up inside of her, “You deserve love more than anyone else, you idiot.”
“#20- You’re a great mentor - When all those refugees came from the other world, you were the first to volunteer to teach them new things and to show them around our own. Because of you, all of them managed to adjust so much quicker to this world than they would have with us. Because of you, they managed to leave the bunker and go live out in our society. You are amazing, Tabby.”
“Go to the place that we had our first argument.”
She instantly recognized where he meant, the torture room. It was easy to remember because it was the first time that she thoroughly disagreed with him on something. They argued about whether they should use it to torture monsters or not, for her heart was still so pure, even monsters weren’t on her torture list.
Tabby closed the compartment in the passenger seat and got out of the car, all of the papers still in her hand, and walked through the winding turns of the bunker until eventually she reached the room. Going inside, she knew that the paper would be relatively easy to find, for the room was basically empty except for the chair in the middle of the room. Surely enough, when she walked in, the paper was sitting directly on top of the chair.
She walked towards it and picked it up, “I remember this argument damn well, it was the first time we disagreed on something so heavily. In my defense, I had the mark at the time we had this argument so I’m using that as an excuse. Tough luck, sweetheart.”
She shook her head and scoffed, turning the paper over to read what she assumed were the next five numbers.
“#21- Your sneeze is cute - Sure, this might seem irrelevant, but it’s not to me. Sometimes I would purposefully try and get you to sneeze just so I can hear how adorable it is. And yes, the pepper inside of the book you were reading was put there by me, I’m sorry, ok?! I just wanted to hear that cute sneeze of yours, I hope you’re not mad, princess.”
“Of fucking course,” she snorted.
“#22- You get overly excited about the smallest gifts or gestures - I have no idea why, but you just do. Yet another thing that is impossibly adorable about you. I remember I bought you a simple damn necklace I got for like $10 and you freaked out. I think it’s because you appreciate everything, no matter how small it is, and that is what makes you unattainable, baby. So precious and special, no man can have you. I just know that my favorite reaction from you was when I gave you that wedding ring. The look on your face when I got on my knees and took it out of my pocket was the best thing I have ever laid my eyes on. I truly love you, and I will try my damn hardest to always make sure you know that.”
She couldn’t help the tears from streaming down her eyes while she played with the ring on her finger, reminiscing about that day. It was the happiest day in her entire life, aside from when she gave birth to her daughter.
“#23- You love your mom - Now this might seem like an “oh everyone loves their parents, not a big deal” kind of thing, but with you it isn’t. You’re always checking up on her and seeing how she is, always offering to help with something when you really don’t need to. The amount of love and contempt you speak with when you talk about your mom is ridiculous, I’ve never seen someone able to hold so much love inside of their body. It’s inspiring and makes me want to be a better person. I don’t remember feeling that kind of love before, until you came along. You might argue that I felt it with Cassie or something but that was nothing compared to this. Hell, it makes it seem like a high school crush compared to how I feel about you. I never thought that I could love something or someone so much, but you came along and completely changed all of that.”
He was right and she knew it. Tabby loved her mom with everything that she had, and she was euphoric to know that she could give Dean that feeling as well.
“#24- You descent from fucking Vikings - I mean come on! How awesome is that? I’m so honored to be able to call you mine. You badass, intelligent, independent, incredible woman. This explanation is kinda short but come ON! Vikings??”
She giggled to herself as she read along, proud of her heritage and her bloodline.
“#25- You cook up the best breakfast - You are a goddamn Chef, babe. Ever since you walked into the bunker, me and Sam have been living the high life every morning with your damn good food. I used to think that I could cook well until you made our first meal. I knew then that I would bow down to you and beg for you to cook every meal I ever ate from then on.”
She smirked proudly to herself, knowing that she could cook up a killer meal.
“You’re almost done sweetheart, just one more. Go to the place that has to do with the last number.”
“Simple enough; the kitchen,” she spoke mostly to herself.
Even through all of this, she still couldn’t wrap her mind around what was going on. Maybe Dean was right and she was simply oblivious. Either way, she was having more fun than she would admit and was silently reveling in the amount of things that he found amazing about her.
Leaving the room, she made her way over to the kitchen, pausing at the door and once again huffing out.
“How the hell am I supposed to find a piece of paper in all of this?” she rhetorically asked, exasperated.
Stomping her foot once or twice, she recalled the last piece of paper, reading once again that this was the last one.
“Fine. Fine fine fine, this better be the last one,” she reluctantly gave in.
Tabby spent twenty minutes looking around for the damned paper, rummaging through the cupboards and even checking the oven. She sat down at the table and ran her fingers through her hair, arguing in her mind whether to continue to search for it or just find Dean and ask what the hell was going on. She decided to keep looking, already having gotten this far. There was only one other place that she hadn’t looked, once again, under the table.
“I swear if it’s under here,” she muttered while reaching her hand under the table and feeling around for the paper.
Surely enough, she felt it and rolled her eyes, pulling it out from under and reading it, “Congratulations babe, you reached the end, though, I’m not done yet. Turn over to the back one last time.”
She followed his instructions, turning over to the back and noticing five more numbers written down.
“#26- You bake the best pies - I think this one is self-explanatory, but I’ll go ahead and explain it anyways. You, Hallie, and Sam are my top three, Baby is my fourth, and pie is my fifth favorite thing in this world. The first time you made me a pecan pie, I had to hold myself back from moaning loud enough that the damn angels in heaven wouldn’t hear me. Once again, babe, you are a goddamn Chef and you can cook better than anyone else on this planet. Yet another reason I fell for you, what can I say, bake me a pie and you’ve won yourself my heart.”
She chuckled at his ridiculous love for pies, though, she loved baking them, for Dean wasn’t the only one who loved them. She recalled multiple times that they had to fight over the last slice, resulting in them splitting it.
“#27- You can play the guitar - I love rock music, and every rock song has a guitar in it. You play the guitar. Put the pieces together. Come onnn, you can do it. Am I really gonna have to spell it out for you? Fine. I love rock music, you can play rock music, I love you. Once again, princess, you are completely oblivious.”
“Shut up,” she muttered angrily, a small smile on her face no matter how hard she tried to hold it back.
“#28- You have an amazing voice - Even though you don’t agree, me and Sam love listening to you sing. You sound like an angel and if you would, I would ask you to lull me to sleep. Your voice calms me down and always brings a smile to my face. Your voice is just as beautiful as you are, Tab, and I hope you know that, forever walking this Earth.”
She was blushing furiously, for she never thought that she was a good singer. To hear it from someone she held so dearly, was nothing short of incredible.
“#29- You always try to save everyone you can - Obviously, every hunter should try and do that, but you go above and beyond. It’s not even limited to hunting. I remember that one time a bee somehow got into the bunker and I was two seconds away from killing it. You stopped me and instead trapped it in a glass and released it back outside, saving its life. You are so pure and radiate positivity, it’s just unheard of.”
She remembered that time; Dean had his shoe in his hand and was just about to swat it until she caught his hand and took control of the situation. Tabby always had the ideology that nothing deserved to die unless it did harm to others, and it had served her well as a human being.
“#30- You gave me our child - Another thing that I am infinitely grateful for and will always love you for. Because of you, I have managed to love not two, but three people in this world with everything that I have. Our child looks just like you, sweetheart. Which means that she is the most beautiful child on this planet and she’s gonna be a heartbreaker when she grows up, just like her mom.” Tabby chuckled with a fond smile, their child really was beautiful.
She was wondering what was next, for this was the last paper, until she read the message on the bottom, “Boo!”
“Huh?” she asked out loud before she felt a presence behind her.
Turning around, she was shocked to see Dean with their daughter in his arms, Sam next to them.
“Oh my gosh, what’s this all about?” Tabby asked, getting out of her seat and taking her daughter from Dean’s hands.
“Did you forget what day it is?” Sam asked with a grin.
She thought back to the date and remembered that it was her birthday, “Oh! Right!”
Sam chuckled and shook his head while Dean just gave her a loving look, “Happy birthday, baby, I love you,” he spoke softly, before kissing her softly.
“I love you too, but what’s up with all of the numbers and the scavenger hunt?” she questioned, still as oblivious as ever.
“You’re turning thirty so I wrote thirty things that are amazing about you, sweetheart,” Dean replied, slightly smirking at his dumbfounded wife.
She felt tears prick at her eyes as she looked at him, “I love you, Dean.”
She pulled him into a hug with their child included, Hallie giggling slightly in her arms.
“And I love you, Tabatha Winchester.”
Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp @shadowsinger11 @donnaintx @flamencodiva
#dean#dean fanfiction#dean imagine#dean winchester#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural imagine#birthday#winchest09#dw#fluff#dean x ofc#dean winchester x ofc
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12 Angry Men: The Story
At first, the story of 12 Angry Men seems straightforward, to-the-point, and pretty darn boring.
A jury consisting of twelve men (most of them middle class, middle age, and white) are locked into a jury room on a stiflingly hot day to determine the fate of a boy (lower class, young, and Puerto Rican) who allegedly stabbed his father to death with a switchblade knife. Once locked into the room, eleven out of twelve decide instantly that the boy is guilty, but one, Juror #8, (Henry Fonda) isn’t so certain. The film then follows Juror #8’s attempts to go through the information presented in court in order to figure out what really happened.
Like I said, it could be considered boring, if that’s all you consider. But as it turns out, just like the case in the film there’s a bit more to it than what appears on the surface. Let’s take a look.
12 Angry Men opens with one of two sequences that do not take place within the jury room. A camera pans over the outside of the Manhattan’s Court of General Sessions, meandering through corridors and staircases, before making its way to our destination: room 228. There, a tired sounding judge orders the beginning of the jury deliberation process after a six-day-long trial, “a long and complex case of murder in the first degree”. He sends our jury off with these final, sobering words:
“If there’s a reasonable doubt in your minds as to the guilt of the accused, a reasonable doubt, then you must bring me a verdict of not guilty. If however, there is no reasonable doubt, then you must in good conscience find the accused guilty. However you decide, your verdict must be unanimous. In the event that you find the accused guilty, the bench will not entertain a recommendation for mercy. The death sentence is mandatory in this case. You are faced with a grave responsibility. Thank you, gentlemen.”
It is now that the audience, for the first and only time, gets a look at the defendant: a wide-eyed, terrified looking Puerto Rican boy from the slums, who helplessly watches the jury march off to decide his fate.
The jury (and camera) moves to the jury room, where we will spend almost the entire rest of the film. It is the hottest day of the year, and the men are clearly already agitated, removing jackets, lighting cigarettes, and complaining. The door behind them is locked, and the twelve men talk amongst themselves for a few moments. Notably, Juror #3 remarks that this is an open-and-shut case, Juror #7 is anxious to leave to get to a baseball game he has tickets for, and Juror #10 has this to say:
“It’s pretty tough to figure, isn’t it? A kid kills his father. Bing! Just like that…It’s the element…I’m telling ya, they let those kids run wild up there. Well, maybe it serves ‘em right.”
Meanwhile, Juror #8 stands at the window, saying nothing.
Juror #1 calls for a preliminary vote, and the men take their seats (arranged by number) around the table. Juror #1 calls for those who vote not guilty, and, some (Jurors #1, 3, 4, 7, and 12) quickly raise their hands, while Jurors #2, 5, 6, 11 and 9 do so more slowly. One lone man raises his hand for not-guilty: Juror #8.
Interestingly, Juror #8 is not fully convinced that the boy on trial is innocent, unlike many instances of the Rogue Juror used afterwards. What he is convinced of is that this is a serious case, with a serious charge, with a grim penalty. He calls for a discussion, going over the evidence. Juror #3 disagrees:
“The kid’s a dangerous killer, you could see it…He stabbed his own father, four inches into the chest. They proved it a dozen different ways in court, would you like me to list them for ya?”
Juror #8 is not dissuaded, and calmly replies:
“It’s not easy to raise my hand and send a boy off to die without talking about it first…We’re talking about somebody’s life here. We can’t decide in five minutes. Supposin’ we’re wrong.”
Juror #7 is unmoved, claiming his opinion won’t change, no matter how long they talk. Despite the resistance, Juror #8 moves on with his discussion, pointing out the defendant’s upbringing and background.
“Look, this kid’s been kicked around all of his life. You know, born in a slum. Mother dead since he was nine. He lived for a year and a half in an orphanage when his father was serving a jail term for forgery. That’s not a very happy beginning. He’s a wild, angry kid, and that’s all he’s ever been. And you know why, because he’s been hit on the head by somebody once a day, every day. He’s had a pretty miserable eighteen years. I just think we owe him a few words, that’s all.”
Juror #10 argues:
“I don’t mind telling you this, mister. We don’t owe him a thing. He got a fair trial, didn’t he? What do you think that trial cost? He’s lucky he got it. You know what I mean? Now look, we’re all grown-ups in here. We heard the facts, didn’t we? You’re not gonna tell me that we’re supposed to believe this kid, knowing what he is. Listen, I’ve lived among them all my life. You can’t believe a word they say. You know that. I mean, they’re born liars.”
Another voice enters the scene, Juror #9, with a biting reply:
“Only an ignorant man can believe that…Do you think you were born with a monopoly on the truth?”
Within only a few moments, already we’ve established quite a lot. The belligerence of Jurors #3 and #10, as well as their bias, Juror #8’s thoughtful, honest nature, and Juror #9’s reasonableness and willingness to stand up for people. Add to that Juror #7’s impatience to leave, and you’ve already got a bit of character to go on to understand what’s going on. As the film progresses, the case unfolds, and we learn more about it, as well as learning more about the characters within, making the plot, although it never leaves the jury room, feel like it is moving.
Juror #12 suggests that they go around the table, giving each juror a chance to explain his standpoint in an effort to convince #8 of the defendant’s guilt. One by one, the jurors bring up their evidence, and to each, Juror #8 has questions that render the arguments a little more doubtful than they would seem to be on the surface.
Juror #2 doesn’t really have any evidence to bring, meekly stating that he thought he was guilty, it seemed obvious. No one can prove that he didn’t do it, after all. Juror #3, however, has more to say on the subject, citing an eyewitness testimony of an old man who lived in the apartment below where the killing took place. According to the witness, he heard a fight, and the voice of the boy crying out: “I’m gonna kill you!” and the sound of a body hitting the floor. The old man ran to the door in time to see the boy run down the stairs. Furthermore, the boy’s alibi (being at the movies) seems flimsy, as he was not able to remember the names of the films he saw, or any of the actors in them. On top of that, there is another eyewitness testimony: a woman in the building across from them saw it happen through the passing cars of an el-train that ran between the buildings. These, Juror #3 declares, are facts.
Other jurors give their reasons, or lack thereof: Juror 5 doesn’t comment, Juror #6 thinks the motive is evidence, and Juror #7 brings up the boy’s violent history, including knife-fighting.
This sparks something for Juror #3, who cites his history with his own son, explaining that kids these days don’t have any respect. He tells a story about how, when his son was nine years old, he ran away from a fight, humiliating Juror #3. He resolved to ‘make a man’ out of his son, and according to him, he did. When his son was 15, he punched Juror #3 in the jaw. It has been three years since the two have seen each other.
Other jurors add their reasons, including the boy’s background in the slums. This line of reasoning upsets Juror #5, who, he explains, was also raised in the slums. Okay, fine, so his background isn’t enough, his upbringing flimsy evidence at best….what about the knife?
The knife (wiped of fingerprints) found in the body of the father was a very unique switchblade. The boy bought a knife matching its description on the night of the murder, and claimed it fell through a hole in his pocket on the way to the movies. A knife that unique surely must be evidence-
Juror #8 pulls out a knife of his own, an exact match to the one found in the body, and sticks it in the table for all to see (which is not legal in a real legal scenario, but this is a movie). Someone, he explains, could have bought an identical knife, and killed the father with it while the boy was at the movies.
“It’s possible,” he says.
“But not very probable!” Juror #4 counters.
Seeing that this is going nowhere fast, Juror #8 says this:
“I’m gonna call for another vote. I want you eleven men to vote by secret written ballot. I’ll abstain. If there are eleven votes for guilty, I won’t stand alone. We’ll take in a guilty verdict to the judge right now. But if anyone votes not guilty, we stay here and talk it out.”
They count up the eleven votes. Ten guilty, one not-guilty. Juror #9 has switched sides.
Looking again at the eyewitness accounts, Juror #8 theorizes that, with the train passing by the exact time of the murder, it would be impossible to hear voices and a body hitting the floor upstairs. Furthermore, he determines that it would be equally impossible for an old man with a limp to make it to the door to see the boy go down the stairs in the amount of time that he said it did. (Again, not legal in a jury, but it’s a movie.) Juror #9 speculates that it is possible that the old man did not lie, rather convinced himself that he saw it in excitement about having 15 Minutes of Fame in his old age.
Juror #5, swayed, switches his vote to not-guilty. The debate goes on.
Juror #11 is now starting to think, asking questions of his own: If the boy killed his father, why return home three hours later?
To get the knife, the explanation goes.
If the defendant had a clear enough head to wipe his fingerprints from the knife and go back to get it, how was he in such a panic that he left it in the body in the first place?
Juror #11 switches his vote. It’s now 8 to 4, and still hot as all get out, and they’re all still in a claustrophobic room with a broken fan. Juror #3, aggravated from the beginning, flips out.
“Assumed? Brother, I’ve seen all kinds of dishonesty in my day, but this little display takes the cake. You all come in here with your hearts bleeding all over the floor about slum kids and injustice. You listen to some fairy tales. Suddenly, you start getting through to some of these old ladies. Well, you’re not getting through to me. I’ve had enough. What’s the matter with you guys? You all know he’s guilty. He’s got to burn. You’re letting him slip through our fingers.”
Interesting statement from a supposedly unbiased jury member. This doesn’t go uncommented on, as Juror #8 snaps back:
“Slip through our fingers? Are you his executioner?”
“I’m one of ‘em.”
“Perhaps you’d like to pull the switch.”
“For this kid? You bet I would.”
After another brief exchange, Juror #3 lunges at Juror #8, screaming: “I’ll kill you!” an eerie echo of the supposed words of the boy. This further cements Juror #8’s point: we say stuff like “I’ll kill you” all the time, without meaning, or thinking about it.
Jurors #2 and #6 switch sides. It’s 6-6, all tied up.
Outside, it starts raining. The broken fan starts working. The discussion turns to the boy’s alibi.
Juror #4 points out that the boy could not remember the names of the films he saw, or anyone in them. Juror #8 counters by turning the question around and asking him to recall details of a trip to the movies a few days prior. When Juror #4 cannot give a full, definitive answer, Juror #8 also addresses the fact that when the boy was first asked what the names of the films were, he was in his apartment, cornered by the police, with his father’s body still in the apartment. In other words, the kid was possibly too stressed and frazzled to remember.
Juror #2 brings up the stab wound itself, saying that it was a downward stab wound, and asked how that would be possible, as the father was over six feet tall, and the boy was only 5’7. Juror #3 stands up, taking the knife and, in a tense display, demonstrates on Juror #8 how this could be done, by gripping the knife overhand.
Juror #5 steps up with an argument. He, as he mentioned earlier, was raised in the slums, and he’s seen knife-fights before. Nobody who knew what they were doing would hold a switchblade overhand. It can’t open that way. The boy had been in knife fights before, and it’s unlikely that he would have made such a rookie mistake.
Another voted is called. It’s 9-3, Not Guilty.
Juror #10, enraged, stands up and begins to rant:
“You’re not gonna tell me you believe that phony story about losing the knife, and that business about being at the movies. Look, you know how these people lie. It’s born in them…They don’t know what the truth is. And let me tell ya, they don’t need any real big reason to kill someone either. No, sir. They get drunk. Ah, they’re real big drinkers, all of 'em. You know that. And bang, someone’s lying in the gutter. Well, nobody’s blamin’ 'em for it, that’s the way they are, by nature, you know what I mean? Violent!…Human life don’t mean as much to them as it does to us. Look, they’re lushing it up and fighting all the time, and if somebody gets killed, so somebody gets killed - they don’t care. Oh sure, there are some good things about 'em, too. Look, I’m the first one to say that. I’ve known a couple who are okay, but that’s the exception, you know what I mean? Most of them, it’s like they have no feelings. They can do anything. What’s going on here? I’m tryin’ to tell ya. You’re making a big mistake, you people. This kid is a liar. I know it. I know all about them. Listen to me, they’re no good. There’s not a one of 'em who’s any good….This kid on trial here…well, don’t you know about them? There’s a danger here. These people are dangerous. They’re wild. Listen. Listen to me.”
One by one, the other jurors turn their backs on him and his racially prejudiced tirade, until, subdued, he goes to sit by himself in a corner with nothing else to say.
Juror #8 makes another impassioned speech:
“I don’t really know what the truth is. I don’t suppose anybody will ever really know. Nine of us now seem to feel that the defendant is innocent, but we’re just gambling on probabilities. We may be wrong. We may be trying to let a guilty man go free, I don’t know. Nobody really can, but we have a reasonable doubt and that’s something that’s very valuable in our system. No jury can declare a man guilty unless it’s sure. We nine can’t understand how you three are still so sure.”
Juror #4 brings up the woman’s testimony from across the street. He is quickly shot down by Juror #9’s sharp eyes: the woman had marks on her nose from glasses, suggesting that she wore them often. People who wear glasses do not sleep with them on (as someone who wears glasses, I can confirm). She was in bed at the time of the killing, happening to look out her window at around midnight to see the murder through the passing cars of an el-train, about six seconds of time total, in the dark, not wearing her glasses.
Juror #4 changes his vote, as does Juror #10. It’s 11-1, Not Guilty. This time, Juror #3 is the lone holdout. He goes on a tirade as well, ranting about having all of the facts, all of the evidence on his side, and as he pulls out his wallet to prove it, a picture falls out: one of his and his son.
In a burst of realization that his anger is not directed towards the defendant, but rather his own son, Juror #4 breaks down, and the final vote is called: unanimous, Not Guilty.
Juror #1 knocks on the door and tells the guard that they’re ready to give their verdict. The men file out, Juror #8 staying behind a moment to hand #3 his jacket.
Once outside the courthouse, Juror #9 and Juror #8 exchange names and smiles. Juror #9, McCardle, says ‘so long’, and heads off. Juror #8, Davis, walks down the courthouse steps, and disappears out of shot.
The end.
For being just over an hour and a half with only three settings, the film seems like there is a lot more to it than one would think. We don’t even learn most of the juror’s names, and yet they seem like fully developed characters, and we feel the satisfaction of justice well served.
Or do we?
One of the most interesting things about this movie is that neither the jury, nor the audience, ever finds out if the boy is guilty, or not. Only that there is reasonable doubt. By the same token, there is plenty of evidence to convict him. Even Juror #8 admits that he does not know if the boy is innocent, or guilty, and it’s left to the audience, as it was left to the jury, to make up our own minds about it.
Sobering, isn’t it?
As for me? I don’t know. Maybe he’s guilty. Maybe he isn’t. That doesn’t change the thrust of the movie.
The idea of the movie, the point of it, is that we have this system for a reason, and by showing us an assortment of the type of people who can end up on a jury, we are called to think about, and respect, our duty to our legal system. We don’t want to be Juror #7, switching sides based on how fast he thinks they can get out so he can get to his ball game, or Juror #10, who allowed his hatred to cloud his reason, or Juror #3, who didn’t realize that he was trying to punish his own son based on his anger, instead of the actual defendant based on reason. We want to take this seriously, like #9 and 11. We want to know, want to believe, that in the end, there is a truth, and justice will prevail.
We want to be the Hero, Juror #8, on his Hero’s Journey for the truth.
Another thing we don’t know is what happens to each juror after the movie is over. The film takes place over the span of one day. We have no way of knowing if this affects anyone, if Juror #7 learns to be more cognizant of things around him, if Juror #10 turns from his racist views, or if Juror #3 reconciles with his son. We just don’t know. The film is full of ambiguity, and in that, it feels bitterly real, even if it isn’t realistic.
In that respect, the film makes quite an impact. It stays with you. It makes you think.
And the audience is the better for it.
Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please stay tuned to join us for the remainder of our study of 12 Angry Men. Don’t forget that my ask box is always open. Thank you guys so much for reading, and I’ll see you all in the next article!
#12 Angry Men#12 Angry Men 1957#1957#50s#Film#Movies#Drama#Crime#PG#Henry Fonda#Lee J. Cobb#Ed Begley#E.G. Marshall#Jack Warden#Jack Klugman#Joseph Sweeney#George Voskovec#John Fiedler#Robert Webber#Edward Binns#Martin Balsam#Sidney Lumet
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Finding Atlantis (part 5)
Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader
Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU
Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.
A/N: Here we are with an update a week later! :3
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18
You both watch as Chanyeol runs off to collect the new additions to your crew. You furrow your brows. “You’re willing to just leave your ship and your men?” you ask.
He shrugs and starts walking in the direction of the dock. “It’s not my ship. I stole it and scouted a couple of men to help me man it. Jongin, Chanyeol, and Sehun are the only men I really consider my crew.”
“Oh,” you say quietly.
“They don't really need me, the other men. They can have the ship; they were bound to mutiny any day now. I wasn’t paying them shit,” he laughs loudly. You look at him a bit sadly and then conceal it.
What’s a captain without his ship?
In that case, you suppose you don’t have any reason not to take them on as your own. You grab him by the arm to stop him. “Alright, well let’s shake on it. On our temporary ally ship.” You jut out your hand and he takes it in his without hesitation. A solid handshake is all it takes to put the past aside.
“Let’s get this sea bitch home!” He chirps. You give him a tired look and he shrugs it off unapologetically. “What?”
You can see your ship clearly as you near the dock, and a happiness that you haven’t felt in weeks blossoms in your chest. You missed her. You missed her a fucking lot.
“Byun Baekhyun and the Storm Chaser at the same port yet again. I wouldn’t believe myself if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.” You stop in your tracks as a group of three men walk up blocking your path. The man on the left is short and stocky. His skin looks like poorly cared for leather and a tattoo of a water dragon stretches up his neck and covers half of his face. The man in the center, the man who spoke, has a beard so long and unkempt that you can image a family of lice living there unperturbed for generations. The last man is the tallest of the three, extremely skinny, with a creepy smile gleaming with fake gold teeth.
You clench your fists. You just can’t catch a break being around Baekhyun can you? “You must be its captain, going around and stealing other ships to keep your identity a secret, huh? You must think you’re hot shit, you one-eyed fuck,” the obvious leader of the group says, beard lice landlord.
Baekhyun gasps dramatically and places one hand over his heart and the other over his eye patch, “Hurtful.”
You want to drive your sword through the man’s stomach for assuming Baekhyun, of all people, captain of your beloved ship.
It’s been months since you’ve gotten a chance to really use a sword, and with the way things are shaping, it looks like your drought may soon be over. The men train their eyes solely on Baekhyun, and you want to laugh at the fact that they’re completely overlooking the actual Captain in lieu of having a pissing contest with Baekhyun.
Men make you sick.
You’d rather die than let Baekhyun take these kills and your title from you.
The leader takes a step forward and you reach for your blade. Baekhyun side-steps you and blocks you from their vision. Your cheeks flame in anger. “Hey now guys. Come on, why don’t we all just relax and go our separate ways? I need to get back to my ship. As you can see I’ve got company.” He jerks his thumb in your direction and you grumble low in your throat.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” you murmur murderously to Baekhyun’s back.
“Screw you and your whore Byun. There’s quite the reward for you, dead or alive. And another even larger one for that ship there’s captain.” Baekhyun’s mouth turns down in a frown while yours turns up in satisfaction. You’re worth more than he is? A win for you. “We could kill two birds with one gun,” the man continues. His fingers twitch towards the weapon at his side.
Looks like a fight, you think happily. You grab Baekhyun’s shirt to pull him back so that you don’t have to worry about killing him in the crosshairs. Then again, maybe you should slice your way through him first.
He takes a step backwards to your side. “Slap me,” he whispers. You look at him incredulously. “Slap me and follow my lead,” he says a bit louder.
Whatever.
You strike him with all the strength in your body. You aren’t sure why you needed to smack him but you aren’t going to turn down an invitation. The “Ow!” that falls loudly from his lips is genuinely angry. You almost think that the two of you are just going to fight to the death right here to save the idiots -trying to stop you from getting to your ship- the trouble. The sting in your hand feels, so, so good.
He cradles his cheek and his eye flashes angrily before he masks it. “Baby, what’s wrong now?”
You physically recoil in disgust. Baby?
His eye flickers to the side where the men are standing, seemingly amused by what Baekhyun is trying to paint as a couple’s spat. Oh. Realization hits and you jump into your role as the angry lover.
Honestly, you don’t have to try that hard.
“Baby? Don’t fucking call me baby. Why’s it that every time I find myself with you, someone is trying to kill us? Huh? I’m sick and tired of being dragged into your bullshit,” you exclaim. He scoffs, genuinely, or part of the role, you can’t tell. You poke him hard in his chest. “Don’t you think that I want to go out on a walk or go out to eat without…without,” you glance around and spot a woman pushing her child in a stroller. You take in a breath and place you hand over your abdomen. “Without fearing for me and my baby’s life?”
He blinks rapidly. “Baby?” You can hear equal parts repulsion and amusement in the tone of his voice.
“Yes, baby. I didn’t want to tell you like this, but of course this is how you ended up finding out. I’m fucking sick of this Baekhyun!”
“There’s no way that baby is mine. I’ve always used protection.” You raise your eyebrows in amazement. Now that was a flat out lie. His lip twitches upwards.
“Are you calling me a whore?” you hiss.
He holds out his hands in defense. “I’m just saying in your profession I’m sure that you have to entertain lots of men and-” You pull out your sword and point it at his chest.
“The women who sleep with people for money work hard for what they’ve earned, and should be respected for their profession.”
“Don’t act too rash…” he takes a step back and raises his eyebrow minutely. You hope that is some kind of signal, because you don’t know how much longer you can go around acting before you actually drive your sword through his shoulder. “Think of the-” he unsheathes his own sword “Baby!” and hits yours away.
Your arm veers to the right from the impact. Purely from the surprise of it all, you swing your sword back at Baekhyun by instinct. He manages to block the hit. He swings back and nearly nicks your arm; luckily you manage to shift enough for it to swipe at nothing but air. He’s getting too fucking close for this to be part of the act.
You aim for his knee and he jumps back just barely avoiding your attack. “Now!” he shouts to you. It takes you a full second to remember that you aren’t actually supposed to be fighting Baekhyun, but the men still watching you both, fully distracted. You turn your blade on the man closest to you, the man with golden teeth, and swing it across his face. He screams and drops to his knees while Baekhyun drives his sword through the stomach of the shorter man with the tattoo on his face. You quickly slide your blade through the neck of the man on the ground in front of you and turn to find Baekhyun trying to fight off the larger leader of the group.
You run passed the henchmen you each put down, dropping the larger sword you grabbed off Junmyeon to the ground. You snatch the shorter knife on lice beard’s hip while he’s distracted and jump on his back, pulling his head to the side and slicing his throat open with ease. He collapses backwards and you let yourself fall to the ground first and roll far enough way so his dead body won’t crush you.
Your chest rises and falls with adrenaline and you wipe the blood on the blade off onto the thigh of your pants. Baekhyun’s hand lands on your shoulder, “Nice-” your knife drives through his side. “FUCK- why’dyou-shit!” You turn to see him holding both his hands over the shallow gash in his side. You throw the bloodied knife to the ground and stand up, still breathing heavily.
“Sorry,” you say flatly. “Heat of the moment…baby.”
“Oh fuck you,” he spits.
“Come on.” You grab his right arm and throw it over your shoulder. You guide him over to your discarded sword and he hisses with each movement. You let him lean on you as you guide him back, limping, to your ship.
“You did that on purpose,” he accuses. You bite your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “You’re smiling about it? I fucking knew it. You’re a fucking liar, what happened to the truce?”
“It’s not that deep a cut. You aren’t going to die from it. We’ll get you stitched up; stop whining.”
Despite your words, he whines all the way onto your ship. Yixing looks at you with raised eyebrows and you shake your head. “Don’t ask right now. Make sure everyone is aboard and let’s put some distance between us and land.”
Yixing smirks and goes off to get the ship in motion. You decide to attend to the crybaby leaning against you yourself. The infirmary isn’t far from the forecastle, where most of the living quarters are. You stumble into the room and let him go so that he can sit down while you search for the supplies needed to fix him up.
He moans pitifully and you shush him. “Shut up, you aren’t that hurt.”
“You aren’t the one who got stabbed.”
“I stabbed you with a purpose. It stings worse than it actually is.” Supplies collected, you kneel down at his side and lift up his shirt. “Hold it up,” you command. He grumbles but follows your instruction. You wipe away the blood surrounding the cut and work on disinfecting the actual wound. Just as you’d said, it’s not large. About as thick as your pinky and as long as your thumb.
He hisses for a long time as you wordlessly clean the wound. When he flinches so hard that he almost kicks the needle from your hand, you sigh and look up at him.
“Hold still,” you admonish.
You return your focus back on stitching the wound so that it will close on its own. It’s not a pretty job, but it will keep. You feel just the smallest twinge of guilt for slicing open his side during your truce, but it fades quickly at the many memories of the times he’s stabbed or shot you.
Truce be damned for a second. He had this coming. You sit up on your knees as you wrap a dressing around his waist to cover the fresh stitches. As a way to silently apologize for going back on your truce, you treat him with gentle fingers and careful touches. You secure the dressing and sit back on your heels satisfied. You exhale softly and feel strangely proud of your work. You feel a small smile etching itself on your lips before you look up and catch Baekhyun looking down at you. His expression unreadable.
Your smile slides off. He lets his shirt drop down to cover the bandages, stark white against his tanned skin, and you feel a bit uncomfortable with the seriousness in his gaze.
“When you’re ready you can come out and we’ll have a meeting with all of the crew.” He nods and then avoids your eyes. You frown and leave the room a bit aggravated with his behavior. What the fuck is his problem?
Jongin comes up to you as soon as you’re out of the infirmary. “Is he okay? What happened?” He sounds as distressed as he looks.
“He’s fine. It’s a little cut. Nothing he hasn’t dealt with before.” You try to smile reassuringly but it comes out as a grimace at best. Jongin’s eyes widen when he looks behind you and he jogs off with a worried, “Baekhyun!”
Yixing leans against the newly repaired mainmast with knowing eyes. He gives you a thumbs up, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Attention everyone!” you call. A circle begins to form around you. You take note of faces, those you know well, those you know are new, and the ones you know are missing. You feel sadness deep in your heart.
But the ship must go on.
“Everyone, we have added a few new members to our crew as we head off on our new mission. I know that our original plans were to go on that bounty hunt, but circumstances…changed.” You glance towards Baekhyun and his men all standing together. “I know that we have lost a few men in the last weeks, and we will be sending them off in the way that we know how later on tonight.” You watch faces fall across your crew.
“For now, I want to inform you all of our next course of action. I previously discussed this with Junmyeon and Yeri, and they have decided to join me in asking for your support.” You look over and see Yeri nodding her head. Junmyeon looks on tiredly. “We are going after Atlantis…again.” You expect the disgruntled murmurs and hushed whispers among your men. You continue on, “I know that I said we were done trying to find it, but we’ve recently come across some new information.” You motion to Baekhyun. He waves happily to your crew.
You shake your head in annoyance. “If you have any disagreements with our plan, feel free to come talk to me or Junmyeon personally.” No one speaks up so you push on. “Junmyeon, you still have the compass and map I gave you right?” He nods. “I need you and Yeri to make sense of the map as best you can; I’ll be there to explain some things in a minute.”
“Are we not locking Byun up?” Minseok asks.
You sigh. “No, he’ll just pick his way out like a little roach. They'll be sleeping in the crew living quarters. They’re a part of this crew during the duration of this mission; treat them accordingly,” you tell your crew. “As for you all, the rules on this ship are simple. You do your job, you respect everyone on this ship as you would yourself, and you don’t lay a hand on anyone in any way deemed inappropriate. Break these rules and I will personally slice your penis off your body and force you to watch as it’s dropped into the sea,” you tell Baekhyun’s additions to the vessel.
“A-Ay,” Chanyeol stammers.
“That’s ‘Ay Captain’,” you correct.
“Ay, Captain!” all but one repeats. Baekhyun clenches his jaw, refuses to give in. You wait with both hands settled on your hips. Your crewmen look on in a mix of amusement and apprehension at the rising tension.
“I don’t think I heard you Byun.”
He laughs in incredulity. Arms cross over his chest. “Ay, Captain,” he acquiesces. You tilt your head proud of his compliance.
“Alright everyone, let’s get moving!” You crew disperses and you follow Junmyeon with your eyes as he heads into your quarters chatting animatedly with Yeri at his side.
You feel Baekhyun’s presence before you hear him. “It’s him isn’t it? Suho. Junmyeon.”
You nod slowly, staring at the door where your first mate has gone. “Yeah,” you murmur. You know that Baekhyun is still missing a lot of essential information about Junmyeon, about Suho, about his life and how he ended up here practically co-captain of your ship.
You’ll fill him in at some point.
All in due time.
You don’t want to think about all of this quite yet, not with him, so you deflect the conversation. “What can your men do, where can I put them?” You scan the four men standing a bit shyly behind their former captain.
“Jongin was in charge of medical. He’s good with medicine and rigging. Chanyeol was our best man in the artillery and also worked the kitchen with Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo was our head cook, but is also well-trained with artillery and general sailing strategies. Sehun has good direction and ability to decipher maps,” Baekhyun rattles off.
That’s good. You needed these skills. From what you could tell, you lost your cook and doctor, Kun, two gunners, Jaehyun and Amber, and… Taemin. Each loss hurts a bit more when you think too long about their absence. You try your hardest not to let it show on your face. It feels sick to replace them with people that are responsible for their deaths.
“Kyungsoo, you can head to the kitchen. It’s under your control, we lost our cook when-” you suck in a breath to stop yourself. Chanyeol and Jongin wince. “The kitchen is all yours.” You finish lamely. “Jongin you’re in charge of our infirmary. Our cook was also our head doctor,” you say bitterly. He avoids your eyes and draws into himself. “I’ll tell Minseok to get Chanyeol and Kyungsoo acquainted with our artillery. You and Sehun meet me in my quarters in 10 minutes. We need to figure out our heading.” You turn on them before any questions can be asked and walk a bit dizzily to the forecastle and very front of your ship for a second to yourself.
You hadn’t gotten a chance to mourn the men you lost, and being hit so suddenly with their absence as you quickly filled positions they each held for years is painful enough to force tears from your eyes. You try not to cry in front of your crew for the sake of morale, but it’s tough to skip over the mourning process in order to get back to work. Everyone else at least had a month to properly mourn.
You get a few hours at most.
You wipe away the tears and try to gather your breathing before you have to face everyone in your quarters. You don’t want it to be too obvious that you were crying.
“Hey…” you sniff and rub at your face with the palms of your hands harshly. Yixing walks to your side and leans against the railing with you. He looks out at the expanse of water and gives you a few seconds of grateful silence before he speaks again. “You don't have to hide your crying like this. We all really miss them, you don’t have to pretend that you aren’t hurt.” He pauses. “You could at least choose a better location, you’re completely visible up here,” he jokes. You laugh a bit.
The wind blows and the ship’s sails flap.
“I’m just…it feels wrong to fill their spots like this. It was Baekhyun and his crew’s fault that they died. It’s his fault and now they’re just taking up their space as if nothing is wrong,” you wipe away another stray tear angrily. You understand that taking them on was the smartest decision given the circumstances, but it doesn’t lessen the feeling of betrayal.
Yixing hums. “You know…I don’t want you to think that I’m taking their side because I’m not. But…I don’t think they meant to kill any of our men in the attack.” You look at him in horror. How could he defend them when you all lost men because of them? He sets his lips in a line. “Their cannons were aimed at the mainmast to keep us immobile, and that’s where they hit. When it fell, it nearly hit Junmyeon but Taemin pushed him out of the way and it crushed his legs instead. He held on for a bit, but got sick on top of his injuries as we headed to Arae. He died in the infirmary. Kun got sick while he was trying to take care of Taemin. Pneumonia. We had to quarantine them both for days before they passed away. One of our cannons backfired when we tried to attack Baekhyun’s ship in return, and it took out Amber and Jaehyun. You and I both know how often that can happen in the artillery,” he explains.
You process his words and you know that, logically, all of these things were accidents, a series of unfortunate events and not malicious attempts at murder, but the irrational side of you wants to blame someone. To blame Baekhyun.
“I’m not telling you not to be angry, or upset,” Yixing continues. “I just want you to look at this objectively and realize that it isn’t completely their faults that we lost our men. Fate just…wasn’t on our sides.” He gazes at you with soft eyes. You can feel angry tears welling up again. He pats your shoulder. “Take a while to cool down, to mourn. I’ll tell Junmyeon that you’ll be a minute.”
Yixing leaves with a squeeze of your shoulder and you let yourself breakdown. The tears fall heavily and your chest tightens so much that it physically hurts to breathe. You could curse the sky, the moon, the ocean, but at the end of the day, it was just their time to go.
If Yixing truly believes that it wasn’t blatant murder then you have to take a second to separate your mind from your emotions as well. You can’t storm off and make their lives hell; you told your crewmen that these new additions are a part of your crew. You all have to respect that for the time being.
You could ask anyone on your crew and you’re sure that they would tell you the same things. How they died, the circumstances. They’re truthful people. They wouldn’t recount it blinded by rage and hatred.
They will all tell you what they saw, just as they saw it.
They would say that it was all just bad timing.
Maybe that’s what upsets you most.
You take a few more minutes to wipe your face and gather your composure before you walk into the Captain’s Quarters where Yeri and Junmyeon are crouched over the map and compass speaking in hushed tones. You can see the confusion in Junmyeon’s furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips.
“Does anything look familiar?” You ask smoothly.
“Vaguely,” Junmyeon says before he looks up from the table. He quickly takes in your appearance, and opens his mouth to comment, confusion on his face switching to concern when the door opens and Baekhyun walks in with Sehun on his tail.
Yeri opens and closes the compass. “Your compass is broken,” she says.
“It’s not broken,” Baekhyun corrects. “It supposedly points to the thing you want most in the world.”
“No kidding,” Yeri exclaims in amazement.
You avoid Junmyeon’s eyes as you project composure to the rest of the people in the room. He knows you well enough to know when something is wrong, but that doesn’t mean that everyone else does. “Yeah, that’s what Baekhyun and I were told when it was given to us. Is your home the place you want most in the world?” You ask Junmyeon.
There is a deep sadness in his eyes that only slightly covers up his concern. “I don’t know,” he admits.
“Well we’re kind of fucked if you don’t want to go back,” Baekhyun observes bluntly. Sehun elbows him in the arm to shut him up.
“I know…it’s been a very long time since you’ve been home, and I know there were reasons that you left. But I need you to look deep within yourself and tell me that you don’t still ache to return.” His gaze wavers under yours; he breaks eye contact first. “It’s okay,” you assure him, walking over to rub his back as he tries not to show the battle he’s been waging with himself for years.
He tries to hide it.
You know him well enough to be able to see it anyway.
“This was always the end goal, right? You never have to feel bad for wanting to go home.” You try to smile. Yeri whimpers and throws her arms around him in a hug. Baekhyun and Sehun stand awkwardly to side while you all try to contain your emotions. This isn’t goodbye.
“Maybe you’d be able to come and visit again,” Sehun offers softly.
“Yeah, you guys are acting like he’s going to die if he goes back. People leave Atlantis all the time,” Baekhyun adds.
You grab the closed compass from the table and place it in your first mate’s palm. “Just think of home,” you comment softly.
He takes in a large breath and closes his eyes. You open the compass in his hand and watch it spin wildly from side to side before finally settling. Baekhyun peaks over your shoulder.
“Huh,” he remarks in amazement.
Junmyeon opens his eyes and looks down.
“Southeast,” you say in unison. Yeri motions Sehun to her side. They begin using the heading with the map you were given to chart.
“We’re going to finish this. I promise,” you tell the man at your side.
Baekhyun pushes between you both to grab the compass from Junmyeon’s hand. “Irene said that the sea wants you and that you should listen to her song to lead you home.” He plays with the device with deft fingers.
Junmyeon tilts his head to the side thoughtfully. “Song? I mean…sometimes I hear noises. Something like a melody. It happens randomly, at different times of the day and sometimes not for months at a time. It’s the same tune every time.” He laughs embarrassed. “I just thought it was sea madness or something.”
“We need you to figure out where it wants you to go. You’re the only one who can hear it and follow it. The song and a rhyme, they're the main things you need to get home,” you tell him. “I don’t remember what the rhyme was…fuck I should have written it down-”
“Follow the sound of your soul, she’ll call out to you to bring you back to your shoal. She’ll fight you to prove that your heart is true, to crush you and build you back stronger in her darkest shade of blue. Beautiful songs will call out to confuse the path, to distract you, but remembering your heart will get you through. She’ll finally take you in her arms again, cradled and safe where all life began,” Baekhyun repeats the rhyme with ease. You look at him amazed.
Junmyeon murmurs the rhyme under his breath. “I-I think that I’ve heard that rhyme before…when I was younger. I’d forgotten all about it,” he says in shock. He falls into the chair closest to him heavily and begins to repeat it over and over to himself softly.
“Southeast,” you murmur to yourself. Junmyeon is the only one who can piece together the missing parts of his memory. The longer he’s away, the less he’s able to recall about his relationship with the ocean. Little pieces of memory, little parts of himself, all lost with time. “Yeri, can you work with Sehun and Baekhyun to figure out what we should expect to encounter?” She nods determined. Sehun gives you a decided look and you know that they will work hard together to piece together whatever they can with what little information you all have.
You and Baekhyun share a look. An understanding finally settling between you after all that’s happened, after all that’s been revealed. He nods. You offer a small smile in return.
#exo#exo stories#exo fanfics#exo fanfiction#exo imagines#baekhyun#byun baekhyun#baekhyun imagine#baekhyun fanfic#baekhyun fanfiction#baekhyun stories#baekhyun story#baekhyun pirate au#exo pirate au
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First line meme
Big thanks to @nottonyharrison for the tag!
Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some of your favourite authors!
When I started reading my first lines, I cringed at some of them, those from un-beta-ed fics in particular (I have a period of I-doubt-my-English-abilities) ;). Ah, well. People read them anyway.
Tagging @andordean, @marbienl13, @namesonboats and @merulanoir :)
So, okay, the opening lines of 20 of my latest fics (two of them were written in 2007, actually, but I put them on AO3 in 2019) under the cut:
1. It’s like having a target painted on our backs, Adon Carre thinks, his lips pursed and brow furrowed, as he looks at the whole set up: the three armoured vehicles, over twenty law enforcement officers and a government-issued cargo plane. (Consequences - "The Witcher" Modern!AU, sequel to "Appearances" below)
2. The Doctor doesn’t speak at all after they land somewhere remote to prepare the Master’s funeral. Jack and Martha help him as much as they can, setting up the funeral pyre, but they don’t touch the body. The Doctor’s the one who prepares it, wraps it and puts in on the pyre. (Exhaustion - "Doctor Who" s3 finale)
3. Hardy is pretty transparent, Ellie thinks, watching his slim back as he leans against the railing on the upper floor balcony of the station, head bowed, fingers interlocked, ankles crossed. While he can maintain the dead look on his face when he’s questioning potential witnesses, his overall reaction to the case is obvious. (The Shift - "Broadchurch" post s3, sequel to "The runner" below)
4. The day at the beach after Joe’s ‘banishment’ (Ellie prefers the term ‘send-off’) is both joyful and weird. Joyful because they are together, Ellie with her sons, Beth with her family. Weird because Beth does something that isn’t typical for her: she takes Ellie aside and apologises for how she treated Ellie after Joe’s arrest. (The runner - "Broadchurch" pre-s3)
5. One blink and Ciri crashes into something wooden and blue, with a blinking light on its roof and a weird metallic sound coming out of it; she bounces off and lands on the sandy ground, her head spinning, hands and clothes covered in dirt. (The Jump - The Witcher Modern!AU/Doctor Who s2 crossover :) - probably my favourite. This one wrote itself like a movie)
6. “Miss Venger, how long had you been married to Mister Haute?”
“Fifteen years. We divorced two years ago.”
“What was the reason of the divorce?”
“Incorrigible differences.”
“Noticed after fifteen years?”
“After one year, if not sooner.” (Appearances - "The Witcher" modern!AU)
7. “She’s cold, and lifeless. She must have died shortly before we arrived.” (Whumptober 2019 - "The Witcher" - this line is translated from TW3 actually. My whump is more angsty than whumpy and that was the first time I wrote on prompts)
8. “My Lord, we still don't know how Principality Aziraphale and demon Crowley escaped punishment.” (In accordance to... - "Good Omens")
9. Year 1268
[some fragments illegible due to ink smudges and water stains] To the witchers from Kaer Morhen in Kaedwen, by upper reaches of Gwenllech
It is with great sadness and sorrow
that I must inform you
that our mutual acquaintance, [illegible] in arms, dear friend, brother,
witcher Geralt of Rivia, known as the White Wolf
was killed [illegible, later a different ink used] two days ago during the pogrom in Rivia,
while defending the non-humans from the mob.
May [illegible] consolation,
that during his last moments he was surrounded by family and friends. (Bits from the Path - "The Witcher" books and games. The first time I wrote for that fandom in English: translated from "Urywki ze Szlaku" below. Sorry to all the people who watched the Netflix show but haven't read the books. ;) )
10. Siedział przy swoim biurku z głową opartą w dłoniach, palcami zanurzonymi we włosach. Czuł się parszywie. Wielokrotnie sobie powtarzał, że nie powinien, że zrobił wszystko, co mógł, że nie pozostało mu nic innego, jak oddać tę pacjentkę komuś bardziej doświadczonemu... Co za ironia. Ordynator powinien być najbardziej doświadczonym lekarzem na oddziale, a kartę pacjenta przejął jeden z jego podwładnych. (Nic nie rób - "House, MD". One of the two fics written back in 2007/2008. Yes, it's in Polish. Yes, it's a case fic. I was very busy studying dentistry at the time. Sequel to "Stanąć na nogi" below)
11. - Chciałbym zacząć, kiedy stanę na nogi – rzekł wtedy ze spojrzeniem wbitym w podłogę.
- Pański gabinet będzie na pana czekał – skinęła głową. (Stanąć na nogi - "House, MD". Written as the first of two season 0 episodes of the show.)
12. Walsh was wiping the counter and still smiling after Allison's visit, when he heard the door opening. He looked up.
"Delahoy, hi," he greeted. Eric nodded and shook Walsh's hand. He sat heavily by the counter, not looking at Jason. (Secrets - "The Unusuals". There was this short-lived TV show with Jeremy Renner)
13. „Co ja zrobię z winnicą?”, zastanawiał się Geralt, idąc na ciężkich nogach w stronę miejsca w ogrodzie pałacowym, gdzie zostawił Płotkę.
Kiedy kilka godzin wcześniej otrzymał akt nadania mu posiadłości, pierwszym problemem były zwłoki hrabiego de la Croix w piwniczce i strażników na dziedzińcu. Potem, oczywiście, pojawiły się inne, więc kwestia szokująco stałej kwatery została zepchnięta na dalszy plan. (Dom Wiedźmina - "The Witcher" - TW3 game during and after B&W)
14. Jaskier nie zwrócił uwagi na wysokiego, chudego, kompletnie siwego mężczyznę, który kręcił się po rynku. Był zbyt zajęty uderzaniem do pewnej urodziwej panny i potem uciekaniem przed jej braćmi.
Ów wysoki, chudy, kompletnie siwy mężczyzna zwrócił jednak uwagę na Jaskra. I wyłapywał w tłumie jego purpurowy kapelusz z piórem, uśmiechając się do siebie nieco kąśliwie. Siwy chudzielec miał nosa do kłopotów, a ten poecina w purpurze aż się o nie prosił. (Urywki ze Szlaku - "The Witcher" books and games - the beginning of my adventure in that fandom :) )
15. Chas waits for him at the airport.
The patient, reliable, forgiving six foot six and a half inches man, stands by the Arrival gate with his hands in his pockets. Didn't change at all. (Walls crumbling - Constantine (TV)/Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior crossover. Matt Ryan phase :) )
16. “Hello, Molly, can we talk?”
She was tempted to close the door, but Sherlock looked tired and resigned – at least he wasn't high. (Overdue conversations - "Sherlock". I have the last two chapters saved somewhere, I wasn't motivated to post them at the time. People didn't care anyway. Maybe for the better...)
17. When we first met Garry Miller, he was oozing confidence. Even on the photo Bec showed us, there was a little confident smirk on his face. It was a face of a man who knew what he wanted and how he was going to get it. Not to mention, handsome and somewhat exotic. (Crash course - "Blue Water High". I had a Craig Horner phase, too.)
18. They separated when they heard voices coming towards them. They found Richard's belongings in an adjacent chamber. Richard dressed quickly and they set to leave. On their way out they encountered only a few guards who were not hard to fight off. Soon, Richard and Kahlan ran into the woods. (A bit of a coddling - "Legend of the Seeker". Craig Horner phase, as I said. Never finished watching the show.)
19. Solo zdecydowanie wzbudzał emocje.
Pierwsze, co poczuła Gaby, kiedy pojawił się w jej życiu, to irytacja. Amerykanin, ważniak, który coś od niej chciał, nie przedstawił się od razu, nie zdradzał swoich planów, rozbił jej samochód, nie spełnił obietnicy o hoteliku, ugotował risotto śmierdzące stopami (chociaż całkiem smaczne, kiedy wreszcie odważyła się je spróbować). (Nietykalny - "The man from UNCLE")
20. Ostatnich pięć lat „odsiadki” Napoleona zleciało błyskawicznie. Solo by w ogóle przegapił dość ważną datę zakończenia odbywania kary, gdyby nie to, że Waverly pilnował tego terminu lepiej od niego. Na kilka dni przed końcem wyroku przeniósł ich zespół (i siebie) do siedziby U.N.C.L.E. w Nowym Jorku i po cichu zadbał o to, by ich trójka nie miała nic konkretnego – w sensie misji – do roboty. (Okres przejściowy - "The man from UNCLE")
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