#cannon death but you probably knew that already | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chackyxyooj · 1 year

Text

To You, Who Loved Me First

Marcel,

Tonight is a particularly cold night. The long nights of winter have comfortably settled in, leaving everything more barren and bleak than before. Back when I was a child, I hated the cold. It would always hit me abruptly and linger uncomfortably. No matter how beautiful cold nights may be, going out in the cold had always put me in a bad mood. Perhaps it was just a senseless opinion of someone so young, or perhaps the cold reminded me of things I didn’t wish to think about.

Now that I’ve inherited the power of the Crystal Titan, my body doesn’t respond to cold like it used to. I’m not sure if you ever got to experience a cold night with a Titan Shifter body, but the cold is now a pleasant sensation rather than an uncomfortable one. And now it seems that cold nights are only second to one.

I never really cared to gaze out into the night sky as a child. Even now I prefer the dazzling colours of sunset. I love tracing the sunkissed clouds as the sun dips below the horizon. The warm spectrum of light never ceases to amaze me.

However, tonight the sky is clear of clouds. Stars are dusted across its dark canvas, leaving me alone to marvel at its beauty. At a time like this, I’m sure you would say something witty to make me smile before handing me your jacket. You had been someone who prioritised others over yourself. I used to wonder why you cared for me more than you seemed to care for yourself, but now I do the very same thing.

You never got to meet them, but the next line of Warrior Candidates remind me of our generation. I’m not able to fully understand what our predecessors thought of us, but I know for certain that I love those kids. How could I ever wish upon them what happened to us?

More than anything, I want those kids to live a normal life. I want them to be able to attend school, not defend their country from the front lines of a battlefield. It isn’t right. It never has been. I was too naive as a child to understand that, but you? You understood the value of living a long life better than I did. You understood that value and still gave your life to our power hungry country known as Marley.

Sometimes I think back to the day we were chosen as Warrior Candidates. The evening before we were chosen, you asked me whether I was certain with my decision or not.

You, a boy who desperately wanted for the people he loved to have lives longer than his own, wanted me to give away the single thing I had worked so hard to achieve. Meanwhile I, a girl who had given up anything and everything to attain her father’s love, had fumbled the love you had for me.

It was cruel of you, really.

Despite everything you felt and knew, you still questioned my resolve. You questioned me while still wishing for your own brother to surpass the length of both of our lives.

In the end, you chose the life of your brother over the lives of your comrades. It wasn’t your fault you had grown attached to any of the others, and I could never blame you for making your decisions in the ways you had. I could never even blame you for saving Porco over me.

No matter how awful this may seem, I would choose to save Emanon over Colt. Despite loving all of them, I would still choose Emanon over every other Warrior Candidate.

How cruel of me.

Perhaps it isn’t just you or me who is cruel, but the world itself.

We were children thrown into the very fray of it all. We didn’t have time to develop proper morals or learn how to understand the emotions of others. We lived and expressed ourselves without a care of who we hurt. But I suppose that’s what it means to be young. It’s the only time in our lives where we can so carelessly disregard the feelings of others.

When everything is said and done, I must digress. For just as the sunset is followed by a night of stars, each of my actions will lead to a cascade of consequences.

I will let myself love, even if it must end in heartbreak.

The stars in the sky are lovely tonight. They shine a colour that isn’t quite blue, but isn’t grey either. It’s a beautiful balance that results in silver. They’re delicate - like dewdrops on a spider’s web and aglow like soft embers from a flame.

For hours, I laid in bed more awake than usual. No matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness. It wasn’t because I was alone that I was lonely though. No… in my moment of vulnerability, what I craved wasn’t to be something other than alone, it was to have you here with me. I was lonely because I missed you.

I could easily fill the spot in my bed with someone else, but when I acknowledge that it only makes me want to be alone even more. When I realise I’m alone though, my heart begs for someone else to lay beside me. Thus, I lay trapped in a prison of my own making.

I miss you, Marcel. Some nights I miss you more than others, and tonight is one of those nights. I know I must sound pathetic, but you were always the person who loved me every time I woke up from my endless nightmare. We may have been nothing more than children, but the love you expressed was nothing short of brilliant.

You would always chase after me even if I didn’t want you to. You were always there to kiss my frostbitten hands and you were always there to comfort me on lonely nights.

Over and over again you were there for me, and now you’re no longer here at all.

I know I can manage without you, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. I know I need to move on, but how can I possibly move on knowing how much you loved me? You loved me so much that it killed you.

No matter how many times I wish you didn’t have to die, it all goes to remind me how much you loved me. It reminds me of how I really, truly, loved you too.

Yours, sincerely, (Y/n) (L/n)

#marcel #marcel galliard #reader #marcel x reader #marcel galliard x reader #love letter #reminiscing #angst probably #cannon death but you probably knew that already

17 notes · View notes

qdbs-writes · 8 months

Note

Do you write fem readers?!? 😭 If so can you write some head cannons about the Cullens with a goth s/o

i proudly write for all readers, nonny! and I'm gonna assume this about about trad!goth, but I'll try and make sure this applies to most goth subcultures!

Cullen Clan x Goth!Fem!S/O

Carlisle Cullen

He's confused but supportive. Back in his day, the term 'goth' only applied to the people who sacked Rome, which he'll remind you of regularly, especially if you're visiting the Volturi (who will also assume that you are directly connected to the ancient Goths, and would fear you as a result).

He'd be interested in your genealogy, because he thinks you're connection to the goth style can't be mere coincidence or personal choice, and it wouldn't be difficult to find out either, all he'd have to do is check if you have any Germanic ancestry from the last 2000 years.

Esme Cullen

If you're happy and comfortable, she's happy and comfortable. While it probably isn't her style personally, she's quick to see the benefits. For instance, black is a very easy colour to maintain, particularly with regards to cleaning.

Her only concern is getting you clothes other than black so that you can have something to wear to events that may require specific colours, like if you two are guests at a wedding (she wouldn't want you wearing black as it's bad luck for the couple).

Edward Cullen

Edward himself is basically a diet-corporate goth, so dating you will probably help him develop his own sense of comfort in the style.

The two of you are regularly seen brooding in the Forks CVS, loitering around the hair dye section, silently terrifying all of the elderly people waiting at the pharmacy.

Edward is likely already very familiar with goth music, has absolutely been to some Bauhaus concerts in his time, and probably has a respectable collection of gothic rock records in his room.

Rosalie Hale

It'll be like a Barbie/Oppenheimer-esque clash in aesthetics. I personally see Rosalie with a very Y2K aesthetic, so the two of you walking down the street together might turn some heads.

That doesn't mean that she isn't fully supportive of your style though, and appreciates the philosophy of the aesthetic, how it's a style built on defying expectations of conformity and obedience. In her short life, all Rosalie knew was to dress properly, smile, be open, happy, a willing host, an amusing guest. In death, she's proud to be herself, and even prouder to be with someone so comfortable with dressing exactly how they want, regardless of what others might think.

Emmett Cullen

You dress scary and Emmett loves it. He has regularly compared you to a venomous snake, your black clothes and aggressive makeup mean that almost everyone in Forks steers clear of you. But not Emmett, he's never had the survival instincts to stay away from things that could kill him, in fact, your "unapproachable" style only drew him in more.

Absolutely loves wandering around Forks with you, even if you aren't particularly doing anything. He thinks it's hilarious that some people cross the street to avoid you, it's like having 'scary dog' privileges.

Alice Cullen

She'd seen you in her visions for some time, but she almost didn't recognise you when you started dressing strangely and wearing heavy makeup. At first, it disturbed her, you looked like the sleep-paralysis demons that used to haunt her in the asylum.

Once she gets the chance to meet you in real life, that fear quickly subsides. Through your relationship, Alice learns how much of a safe space goth society can be, and that she can rely on other goths to not be judgemental towards her like so many others are.

Jasper Hale

Greatly appreciates the Victorian-era elements that are incorporated into your clothes, it helps him feel less old. You'll make his day if you show any interest in his clothes and jewellery that he had in life, particularly the more morbid pieces (such as the ring made out of his mother's hair).

If you're looking particularly historical, he'll love to get in his original clothes from when he was alive (except the ""uniform"" that shan't be mentioned), and stroll about Forks with you, arm in arm, like a true Southern gentleman.

791 notes · View notes

la-petite-lapin · 12 days

Text

Keeping Secrets | John Price x female!reader

Navigation

John Price x afab!Reader Word Count: 2.3k Content Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, mentions of injury, cannon typical violence, swearing, age gap (reader is in her twenties, John is in his forties), suggestive content, oral (F receiving), PIV (protected (stay safe, kids)), brief mention of Price JRs, no use of Y/N

The Captain and the Sergeant start keeping secrets from the rest of the taskforce

It wasn't like it was in the movies or the books. There were no longing glances across crowded rooms; no deep, personal conversations late at night. There was no warning.

The first indication that anything had changed between the two of you was in a dimly lit safehouse. A job had gone wrong - horribly, irreparably wrong - and Soap had been medevac-ed out to the nearest army hospital. The rest of you would have to wait until morning; would have to make it through the night when a countless number of enemy operatives could still be hunting you, then hike to the nearest evac point before sunrise.

Ghost was pacing the worn wooden floors, and you were sure he'd wear through them at some point. You knew better than to make a joke about it - knew better than most the deep bond that he and Johnny shared. To mock it would be to die a brutal death by Ghost's hand in the night.

Gaz was coping with it in the best way he knew how: checking in with everyone, yourself - as the newest member of the taskforce - included, mother-hening his way around the three-room cabin in the middle of rural woodlands.

It wasn't until he'd finally convinced Ghost to sit down and take a breath, that Captain Price finally approached you. Heavily, he lowered himself down to sit beside you on the shabby old sofa, not saying a word at first as you stared ahead at nothing.

Johnny had been standing right next to you when it all went to shit. Him diving in front of you like a lunatic was probably the only reason that you were there with them. The shot to his shoulder would have been a direct headshot on you.

It was hard not to feel bitter or dazed about that.

"It's not your fault, Sarge," John said, his voice markedly softer than usual. He typically made it a point to avoid babying you in any way - knew that you hated being treated differently to the boys - but you could make an exception for him just the once. "Soap chose to block that bullet. Saved your life an' all. Cheer up, yeah? He's alright and you'll see 'im soon enough."

You turned to face him, offering him a small, weak shadow of a smile. "I know. It just sucks."

John frowned, seeing through the thin veil of fake cheeriness. Quieter, he added, "It's alright to be shaken by this, too. First near-death is always scary. It stays with you in a way the ones after don't." There was a pause - a long, tentative pause - as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his parted knees, dark eyes finding yours and holding them. "If- if you don't want to be alone tonight, you don't have to be."

Laid out in the open like that, the offer seemed so damn tempting.

Your mind raced through all of the shit that could go down if you took him up on it - if you were found out. You could be removed from the taskforce, stripped of the sergeant rank that you'd fought so hard to attain. John could be reprimanded for sleeping with an officer under his orders. But, if no one knew... what was the harm?

With a soft, sweet smile - a genuine one this time - you tilted your head, leaning slightly into his space on the sofa. "Yeah. I think I'd like some company, Captain."

Hours later, after Ghost had fallen asleep on the floor of the living room and Gaz had been assigned first watch, Price led you into the smaller second room of the safehouse - the bedroom - under the guise of checking your wounds. In reality, the minor scrapes to his arm and leg had already been dressed, not requiring any further attention. If anything, the cut to Gaz's forearm was of a higher severity.

John grinned as he shut the door with a soft thud, sliding the flimsy, rusted deadbolt across to lock it. You were thankful for the added security; the increased reassurance that the boys wouldn't be able to just wander in and catch you in the act.

The bedroom was poorer lit than the main room, making it harder to see. The moon illuminated the outline of the Captain's broad, muscular frame as he removed his beanie and tactical vest before turning his attention to his belt. You took a seat on the edge of the bed, thighs clenching in an attempt to relieve some of the aching tension in your core.

He took his time stripping down to his white t-shirt and boxer briefs, the material straining with the impressive tent in the front. "Like what you see?" he grumbled cockily, noticing your attention.

You let out something akin to a whine. He looked so good - so unbelievably good after the day from Hell you'd just had. There was also something else that made it undeniably more thrilling; the risk of getting found out. The taboo of it all.

You couldn't deny that you'd found Price attractive before that deployment. You'd spent every day for the past two years around him, living, eating, and working alongside him and the boys. It had also been a fact of life that he had a following - a constant, ever-present gaggle of new, female recruits cornering him in the hallways and vying for his attention. But he never took any of them to bed, preferring to spend his nights in the barracks alone.

At first, you'd thought that he had a wife or a partner off-base, but a conversation on your last stakeout together led you to the truth; he just wasn't interested in the barrack bunnies. He wasn't interested in sleeping with someone just for the sake of it - just because they wanted to get a piece of taskforce 141's infamous Captain.

"I think I might need to see some more to decide," you purr teasingly, lifting a hand to beckon him closer to the bed.

He stepped forward slowly, hands rising to rest on his tapered hips. He was built like a bear; broad, built, and covered in a fine layer of downy body hair.

You licked your lips, eyes tracking every single minute movement.

"I think I need to see something from your first, princess," John teased. "It's only fair."

Eyes never leaving his, you made quick work of stripping out of your own tac vest and pants, chucking them over the edge of the mattress and into a heap on the floor. You even went one step further; shucking off your t-shirt. With a small smirk, you leaned back, clad only in your flimsy underwear and sports bra.

John's eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

"Like what you see, Captain?" you purred, words a light-hearted mockery of his own self-assured crowing.

"If I'd have known," John grumbled as he took another slow, measured step towards the bed, "that this is what you looked like under all that gear, Sergeant, we'd have done this a long time ago."

A grin formed on your lips, ego expanding ten sizes as John prowled across to close the rest of the distance. His irises were all but swallowed up by his pupils, blown with lust.

Shuffling back on the mattress, you eased back as John came to a stop, kneeling between your parted legs. With a lover's gentle reverence, he pressed a kiss to each of your knees in turn before turning his attention to the scrap of damp cotton protecting your modesty.

"May I?" he asked softly, fingers hovering over the waistband at the side, thumb smoothing a path along the ridge of your hipbone.

Breathily, you gave your consent. "Yes. Please, John-"

With practiced ease, he lifted your hips up and off of the bed, guiding your underwear down your bare legs then chucking them to join the rest of the clothes littering the floor. His hands skimmed back up, callouses feather-light against the skin of your calves before rising to knead your plush thighs when he reached them once again. He seemed to be mapping out your body; ghosting over the sensitive parts repeatedly, lingering where he'd deduced you liked to be touched.

The man was a fast learner. An eager one, for sure.

When he'd finished kneading at the soft skin there, he pushed your thighs apart, holding them down to the mattress and exposing the moisture glistening at their apex. Licking his lips, he bowed his head slightly, lowering his body down to the bed.

"John?" you asked, confused as to where he was going and why he still had his briefs on. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, princess?" he mumbled against your inner thigh, dark eyes lifting to meet yours. "Didn't think to bring any rubbers with me, and I don't fancy having any little Prices running around any time soon." A spark of mischief glittered within his gaze as he nuzzled his bristly moustache against a particularly sensitive spot. Your shiver seemed to only embolden him further. "Which means tonight's all about you."

You arched your back off of the bed, trying to push his face closer to where you desperately needed it. "Can you hurry up then?" you whined, getting impatient.

John chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

And, with that, he bowed his head and made good on his promise.

"John!" you yelled, thighs burning with the strain as you bounced up and down on his cock. "John- fuck!"

A whole three months had passed since the first night you'd spent together in the safehouse. The morning after, you'd fully expected him to put an immediate stop to it the moment you were all rescued. Instead, he'd held your hand in the Heli - tucked between both of your bodies, hidden from sight - and promised that you'd talk about what this is later.

Nights since had been split between your room in the barracks and his. Mornings, too, upon occasion. Every spare moment the two of you got some accompanied by the feeling of his large, warm hands on you. By his constant, protective presence in your life.

It was a miracle that no one had noticed the new pull between the two of you. How you seemed to orbit one another.

And then there was the sex. The constant fucking.

"Keep it down, princess," he grumbled, breathless and sweating, beneath you. He didn't look too bothered though - too blissed out to properly care or consider the consequences of someone overhearing.

Clinging to some semblance of intelligent thought, you bit down on your wrist in an attempt to muffle the sounds leaving your mouth, drawn out by the captain and his fat cock. It was quickly becoming one of your favourite parts of him, second only to his beautiful, expressive laugh. It was no secret to you that he was well-endowed. Well-endowed and skilled at utilising it.

"Stop that," he grumbled gruffly, raising a hand to gently remove your wrist from between your teeth. He quickly replaced it with his own hand, guiding the soft part of his palm between his thumb and index finger into your mouth. Anything to prevent you from accidentally injuring yourself. "Keep riding, love. I'm getting close."

A part of your brain purred at that. Love.

It was a pet name that he used sparingly. Perhaps because he saw the flash of panic in your eyes almost every previous time he'd used it.

But now...

You tipped yourself back, hands finding purchase on his tensed, thick thighs to deepen the angle. Freeing his hand from clenched jaw, you whimpered, "I'm... John, I'm so close."

"Me too, sweetheart," he mumbled, speeding up the pace of his thrust. He punctuated the sentence with a snap of his hips. "Me too."

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he tugged you down into his chest and rolled, rising up onto his knees as he set you on your back. Pressing a trail of soft, tender kisses to your face and neck, he picked up the pace; drilling deliciously deep.

You whined, squeezing your legs around his waist and clawing at his back with your fingernails.

With a low growl, John lost it. Turning frantic as he barrelled towards his rapidly approaching end, he pushed you towards your own orgasm - practically bullying it out of you.

You came with a sharp scream, turning your head in a fraught attempt to smother the sound in the pillow. It smelled of Price - rugged, masculine aftershave and a hint of tobacco smoke.

He himself came moments later, gasping as his release swept over him. Covering your body like the world's best weighted blanket, he slumped down on top of you.

Still buried deep inside the paradise at the apex of your thighs, he pressed a sloppy, lazy kiss to the side of your neck, running his nose along your throat. It was one of the best part of sex with Price; the cuddling that came after.

Giving a small jolt of his hips, he grumbled something into your salty skin.

"Hm?"

John lifted his face slightly, breath tickling the underside of your jaw. "I said, I wish I was ten years younger. Then I could go again and again without a half-hour break between each round."

You giggled. John's age was something that you didn't mind. You knew that the age gap between you probably would have put some people off, but - if anything - he made you feel safe and respected. Though that could be the fact that he was a highly-decorated war vet, and a complete Golden Retriever of a man.

Pressing a kiss to his temple, you whispered, "I wouldn't have it any other way, John."

There was a beat of silence as the two of you soaked up the moment; the feeling of just holding one another on the sweat-soaking sheets, oblivious to the world outside of the little bubble you'd created for yourselves. With a chaste kiss to your shoulder, John gave another tentative roll of his hips, drawing another whiny groan from you.

"You sure know how to make an old man feel loved, princess."

Before you could reply - to bring up to the l-word that you'd both been skirting around for weeks now - your phone chimed. The alert tone was one you'd reserved for the other members of the taskforce only.

Why would they be messaging on a Sunday night?

A wave of panic cresting inside of you, you eased John's softening cock out of you, wincing at the sudden emptiness. Your phone was on the desk, all the way over on the other side of the room. It seemed so impossibly far as you scrambled for it.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" John asked, suddenly fully alert and hurrying to tug his boxer briefs back on.

Wordlessly, you read the message you'd just been sent. Your face blanched to an unhealthy pallor as you handed him the phone. A single message notification waited on the screen, glaring with accusation.

GHOST: We heard everything, you two. Think you owe us an explanation at the very least. Rec room in ten minutes.

John looked up from the phone screen, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a lopsided, sheepish smile. "Well, I guess that's what we get for keeping secrets, princess."

a/n: hello, hello :) so this was the Price X 141!reader fic that won the poll! I've had so much fun writing this one - not that I don't love Double the Love (my firstborn fic) please feel free to tell me what you want to see next! - happy surprise-post thursday, lapetitelapin :)

#cod #cod fanfic #fanfic #callofduty #cod x reader #female reader #john price x reader #john price #captain price x reader #smut #romance

142 notes · View notes

wonderlandwalker · 3 months

Text

Soon and Sooner | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick makes his way back to you after the arena separated the two of you last night. He is worried about your safety in a place as cruel as this, but he knows in his heart he'll see you soon again. Turns out it wasn't exactly the reunion he had hoped for.

Content Warnings / Tags: Angst, violence, blood, wounds, mentions of death, hurt with no comfort, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I don't know how to write long fics I'm sorry, but enjoy this piece of heartbreak that's been stuck in my head xx

Whether or not today was a good day depends on at what point of that day you asked. Finnick was alone, as alone as someone can be in the arena. He wonders at which point a greater plan is at work, and at which point it's a coincidence, but the more he thinks about it, the less he wants to. Maybe you had been separated on purpose, singling everyone out for a carefully curated show, maybe this was simply how things were meant to be. It doesn't matter either way, he tells himself, because he'll find his way back to you soon enough

The leaves rustled around him, and if he had been home the melody would have calmed him, but not here. It wasn't relaxing in the same way a breeze is on a summer day by the lakes, not serene any longer. In the arena it only put him on the edge further, dangerously close to the edge. He had last seen you yesterday, having no choice but to go in opposite directions. But that wasn't what worried him, because he knows how to find his way back, recalls the direction of the rendezvous you were probably waiting at already, all he had to do was get there too.

So he went on, only taking small breaks to refill his water, check his surroundings, make sure he would live to be with you once more. As the day passed and he got closer to his destination, he found himself growing negligent, deciding to worry later about the cut on his leg from the thick branches, not bothering to thread carefully over the ground anymore. He was growing restless, desperate.

It didn't take long for Finnick before he could already see the beach coming closer, determination carrying him far. With every step closer he couldn't deny his growing worry, his worry for you. He knew for sure you had survived the attack yesterday, your picture had not been shown in the sky and he had felt relieved, but this morning there was a cannon, and he had no idea who that belonged to. He thinks he would know, somehow, if it had been you, that his heart was so irrevocably tied to yours he would have felt the string being cut, but that doesn't stop him from wondering, what if it had been you. What if you had been left with a fatal wound that claimed your life after hours of agony, what if there had been another attack, what if-. No, he would know, and he knows he'll see you again soon, so he continues on.

As he turned through the clearing, he could see you standing there, laughing at some joke Johanna had made. The two of you had always had a soft spot for each other, finding family in even the most dire of circumstances. As he finally saw you, the band around his heart released, no longer being tugged at with every step he took. As he finally got closer to you, he called out for you, knowing you’d reach out for him with the same amount of vigor. As he finally reached out for you, so close to having you in his arms once more, he was lost in the sight of you turning around, beaming at him, only for your expression to drop faster than his heart could. He hadn’t even seen it, hadn’t even thought about it, his sole focus on finding you. If he had paid more attention he might have remembered that he was not alone in this arena, that there were people here hunting you, that he was sharing delicate secrets by shouting them loudly, his mind too clouded by its current storm to even begin predicting the next.

He blinked once, twice, but your eyes were wide, no hesitation as you rushed forward. His mind tricking him with a false narrative of ease in a moment where he should have known better. You rushed for him, and he expected the sweet relief of holding you in his arms, but all you did was reach for his shoulders, spinning him around and out of the path of the tribute he could now see retreating back into the forest. He should have known better than to get lost in the euphoria of your presence, you’d always lecture him for it, ranting about how you’re not worth dying for. As he looked back over to you, expecting you to tell him exactly that and kiss him when he’d promise not to do it again, he wasn't smiling anymore either. His bubble shattered into pieces like the sand he was standing on, joining it in hopes that never came to be.

It was as if you hadn't blocked the hit at all, as if the dagger had found its way into his heart regardless. At first he didn't even see it, too caught up in the look of pain on your face, too determined to fix it for you, but he looked down to see he had assigned himself an impossible task.

He felt like a statue, ever forced to watch the violence of mankind without means of intervering. He wanted to envelop you in his arms and whisper assurances to you, but he was too scared that his white lies would be too crimson from the blood that was dripping down onto the beach. The beach, a place that held so many memories of the both of you, now forever stained by this single day.

Simple seconds ticked by, time he once thanked, betraying him. You dropped to the ground like a wave collapsing in on itself, holding a power too great that must now be returned. And the moment it did, the second your now limp body hit the sand beneath you, finding its final destination, he screamed once more. Maybe it was the shock being forced to wear off too soon, maybe it was the denial he didn't want to leave, but the sight before his own eyes was one he could no longer ignore.

He rushed for you, sliding onto his knees as he reached for you, shouting in agony for you to stand back up, to smile at him and cup his jaw like you always did when he was worried. He yelled at those around him, the people he called his friends, doing nothing to save you. And if he had been paying more attention, he would have heard the cannon just like them, would have heard the sound signaling it no longer mattered, because you were already gone. If he had been level headed he would have known that he was only attracted more attention from the other tributes out there, not that it would have mattered, he would have gladly stayed here for them to kill him, maybe he would have even wished for it, because his world would forever be incomplete without you. He would spend eternity searching for you even if he knew it was fruitless, because to him, you were absolutely worth dying for. Not that you’d let him, you would have never let him, you would lay down your own life before letting him sacrifice his, but he could do without the cruel reminder.

Yes, he should have realized it was too late, but he couldn't, he couldn't hear anything other than the ringing in his ears from how loud he was screaming for you, desperate for you to comfort him, already longing to feel your fingers sifting through his hair, the one thing that calmed him down when nothing else could. He could feel someone reaching out to him, and he wished they were here to let him join you, wondering if you’d ever forgive him if he indulged the thought. But the touch didn’t bring relief, it was simply another painful truth trying to pull him into a now worthless world.

He could hear them now, hear them talking about having to move, about getting him to move, it only made him cling to you harder. He could no longer feel your muscles confulsing in slight twitches against his fingers, the stillness was unsettling, but he wouldnt dare let go.

If only he could see the rose flush disappearing from your cheeks, the glimmer in your eyes fading to join the others amongst the stars, here you were, finally in his arms again, but he didn’t enjoy the feeling like he thought he would, here you were, reunited yet never having been able to say hello, never even being able to say goodbye. He wonders if he shouldn't have stopped to drink water from the stream he had passed, thinks about how he could have walked faster, not worried about a time limit he hadn’t even known existed, he ponders the possibilities from each and every second that had separated the two of you, every breath he took without you and every breath he’ll take longing for you now, wishing you’d be there to take it from him. Every step he took and every step he’ll be taking wishing you were at the end of it.

He had been so sure he would see you soon, that you were still here because he could simply feel it, this time he felt it. He felt the connection being severed, and would spend the rest of his life holding on to his end of it. Would wonder for eternity what would happen if he'd only gotten here sooner.

119 notes · View notes

henrioo · 10 months

Note

Hi. How are you? Your imagines are just wow! I would love a Shanks x female reader please. Your Whitebeard’s only daughter. When Shanks comes to meet with Whitebeard, he remembers you from when Roger and Whitebeard fought when they were kids. He remembers that you and him made a promise (what the promise is I’d love to see what you think because whatever you decide it will be amazing). It ends with a kiss and a new member of the red haired Pirates. Thank you! 🧡

✦ ── THE PROMISE: AKAGAMI NO SHANKS

Part one, part two

Relationships: Young! Shanks x Gn! Reader

Synopsis: What would it be like to run into Shanks years after his disappearance and all the events between the two of you? What would have changed?

Warnings: Spoilers! Shanks' past (what we know at least), cannon divirgence, cannon change (my theory of what would have happened), mention of death, mention of running away from relatives (running away from home basically) Shanks is still young has both arms!

Word Count: 2,1k

Notes: Here is the second part of this imagine that everyone loved! Thanks to this ask I decided to continue so thank you, here is a lot of invention of how the facts would have been since we don't know much, I also wanted to make a young Shanks because I didn't want to make them only meet decades later.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

You sighed tiredly and stretched your arms still sitting in your office chair. Your desk was full of papers and books, you were like a little secretary on the ship, taking care of important papers for Marco and your father, always willing to help. You looked out the small window and knew that it was already dark, you had stopped on a small allied island and you were probably the only one still working.

All of your brothers would already be making out between men and women and drinking until they threw up. Not that you were against parties, especially now that you were in your twenties and old enough to attend, but sometimes you liked the solitude and silence. Just you, your papers and your thoughts about the future and all that may lie ahead.

But well, the night was young and you definitely weren't going to be locked up working! You got up and ran towards your room, ready to change into a nicer outfit than your casual one and have some fun. You intended to drink, eat and well… Maybe you found some man or woman interesting enough to talk to and maybe something else.

After changing into comfortable but beautiful clothes, you found yourself walking through the almost empty streets of the island. There were a few drunks and couples walking around, the bars were packed and the restaurants had all kinds of people in, it looked like a very busy and lively night. You stopped in one spot and looked around, thinking about your next move.

"Now, where would those idiots go…" you pondered, no one had told you exactly which bar the family party would be at and that's why you were lost from the others.

While you were thinking, one hand quickly went around your waist and the other around your mouth. With extraordinary strength you were pulled into a dark alley between the various houses in the area. You were scared when you were caught off guard, but as you always knew that despair was not the solution, so you calmed down to fight back.

When the final unknown stopped, having taken you far enough, it was time to act! You quickly stepped on his foot and turned around, punching the individual square in the face. As if that wasn't enough, you grabbed a small knife that you always carried and positioned yourself, ready to attack whoever was there.

"Auch! Wow my sweet, the years go by and your punch keeps knocking anyone down" the humorous voice confused you, he was thinking it was a joke.

"Ha, nobody ordered me kidnapped, next time it's going to take a lot more than just a punch" you said slyly.

"Kidnap? Isn't that… Funny, y/n? The first time we met I'm pretty sure the situation was similar" he chuckled.

"First time?" You asked even more confused, how did he know your name? How did he know you?

The man chuckled quickly and then walked out of the darkness of the alley, walking closer to the lighted area. His gaze started at his feet, going up to his strong legs, his exuberant chest, one hand on his sword at his waist and the other caressing his face where you'd struck. He had scarred eyes and a wild look, his red hair peeking out from under his straw hat...

"Shanks?!" You practically screamed in shock, was that really him?

"It took you a while to recognize me… Was I so different?" He smiled maliciously and looked at you with a lot of emotion.

"No… But… It's been years" You finally let your guard down and put your knife away, there was no need to attack.

You looked at the man trying to gain confirmation that it really was him, Shanks... How many years had it been since you saw or heard about him?

You had met in childhood, after a funny situation together, and from the beginning the red-haired boy had shown a lot of interest in you, even though you were enemies from birth. The few physical encounters you had were made up for by the letters you exchanged until adolescence, Shanks telling about your adventures with Roger and you talking about your own with your family.

For you, that boy was as important as any member of the ship, but it was different from a platonic feeling. You and Shanks had chemistry, you understood each other like no one else and the more you talked the more you wanted to be together. It wasn't strange the plans you made about the future, Shanks liked to say that one day you would marry him and you would live adventures together, sailing the seas with your own crew.

You believed that for many years, you fell in love with the boy you met and dreamed the most beautiful fantasies... Until that happened, the news that Roger had been captured and that all his crew was missing. You were no more than eighteen at the time and you were devastated... The worry of what had happened to Shanks hit you so hard that you fell ill, not even the crew who were equipped with the best doctors could help you.

When you got better and woke up a few days later, you learned from your father that Roger's crew had been disbanded and that all the crew were missing and lost at sea. Fear and uncertainty hurt you inside, you didn't know what could have happened to Shanks, was he alive? How would you be after losing the man who was like your father? What kinds of dangers was he in now, completely alone?

For a few years you tried to look for Shanks, even if your brothers were against it as it was risky, they knew it was important and helped you as much as they could. But he was completely gone, no one had seen or heard from him, for a few years you decided that Shanks had died... Or that he had suffered so much from the loss that he fled the pirate world completely, the point is that the pain of his absence kept hurting you day after day.

As time went by you learned to live with the pain, to deal with the fact that maybe the love of your life was gone. When you heard the rumors that some pirates who fought together with Roger had returned to the sea, you thought it was just any rumor, nonsense… But there he was, Shanks in all his glory. Completely alive.

"I thought… I thought you were dead" you finally gathered your thoughts and spoke after a few seconds of staring at him.

"I know… I… I needed some time" he said with a light tone but it was possible to see how important that was to him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Ah, I wasn't really planning on meeting you… Not right now" he chuckled "But I happened to need to stop by and I heard your family was in town… So why not?" He glared at you.

"Shanks… I…" you tried to speak but all you felt were the tears coming down "I'm sorry… I didn't"

"Hey, hey… it's okay" he leaned closer "Let it out…" he hugged you and started rubbing your back lightly.

"I thought I lost you forever… I'm so glad you're alive…" You let your face rest against his chest.

"If I had known you missed me so much I would have come sooner… I… I missed you too y/n… There isn't a day that I don't think about you…" he admitted.

"Oh really?" You smiled and walked away "I don't know, you were always a joker, I bet you say that to everyone…" you teased, already feeling better.

"No! Of course not! Besides… I really needed to find you and fulfill our promise…" He became more serious again and stared at you deeply.

"Promise?" You asked confused.

"Not here… Come" he offered his hand and you immediately took it.

Quickly he pulled you through the half-empty streets, you walked through the bright and fresh night without worries. There you weren't the heir to the legacy of the pirate king or one of the sons of Whitebeard's crew, no… There you were just Shanks and y/n, two young adults in love who hadn't seen each other in so long that they were almost forgetting one another. from the other. There you can laugh and just live that night together.

"Here's good… I wanted to take you on a real date, but we don't have much time" he turned around, you were in a small square overlooking the beach in the distance. The sound of waves was comforting to you.

"What's going on Shanks?"

"Okay, I need to tell you two things… But you have to promise that you won't answer until I explain everything, okay?" He held both of your hands.

"Okay… Talk soon" you looked at him curious and excited.

"First, I'm putting together my own pirate crew. I've decided that I want to keep sailing, I want to have my own nakamas and sail around the world like I used to with the captain…" There was a hint of sadness in his voice, but he still kept a smile on his face. "So I'm going through some islands and recruiting some people, I have a small ship but soon things will change when we start to act"

You assimilated the information slowly, so Shanks would return to the pirate life... You felt very happy for him, knowing that he would not give up that life he loved so much even after the loss.

"Now… I also decided something else, during these years I kept thinking about you… I couldn't get in touch because it was risky, I was still weak and young and I only had one chance to make everything right…" he sighed "But now I've managed to organize things and I've decided that I want you with me... Do you remember our promise? When we grow up we'll have our own crew and live adventures together? Would you be my companion the same as when we were silly kids and we dated for fun?"

"Of course I remember… Every day I thought about you, our plans… How we were going to live together… But I don't understand what one thing goes with the other… Ah unless you're saying that…" you stared at him blankly.

"Yeah… I know your dad and brothers are probably going to kill me… But I needed to risk seeing you before I started sailing like a pirate, tell me, y/n" he smiled at you "would you mate with me and run away with me to assemble a pirate crew?"

"Shanks…" you were in shock.

"I know, I know, they are your family and I can't wait for you to accept it because we haven't seen each other for years… But I want to make up for everything I promised you, I really love you y/n… Always have, since when you were just a sulky kid wanting to make friends" he laughed "I promise I'll protect you and I won't take you away from your family, but if I'm going to live the adventure of being a pirate captain… I want to live it with you."

You had nothing to answer so you just threw yourself into his arms, squeezing him tight and confirming that it was all reality.

"One thing you know for sure… My father will kill you when he finds out" you laughed.

"It's worth it… Besides, I think I'm old enough to face the old man…" he chuckled back.

"Shanks… I love you too" you said, millimeters away from his face.

"Then come with me, let's start our lives together" he offered moving closer "Be mine."

"Yes I will be" you smiled and your lips finally came together.

The kiss was passionate and slow, you took advantage of every second to kill the longing you had for years. Shanks's hand grabbed your waist and the other held in his hair, like a brief affection but also preventing you from pulling away. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let your body go limp and comfortable against his.

"I've wanted to do this for so long…" he smiled as you pulled away.

"Me too, me too…"

The next morning all his brothers and father could find was his empty room along with a beautiful letter of thanks and farewell. Of course they were worried about you, but you were strong, you were as skilled a pirate as anyone else on that ship. If your wish was to adventure with Shanks and live with him, all they could do was support you and hope that everything works out... But that didn't stop your father from swearing to beat Shanks up if he hurt you.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #anime imagines #onepiece #one piece imagine #imagines #anime and manga #shanks x you #shanks x y/n #akagami no shanks #shanks x reader

286 notes · View notes

sgt-morgan · 1 year

Text

Of Cowboys and Daisies🐎

Summary: Jack is assigned to watch over a mother and her adorable little girl. As they get closer and closer to taking care of their problem, Jack worries he won’t be able to let go.

Warnings: AFAB! Female identifying reader, talks of cannon typical violence, death of a spouse x2, really a fluff piece.

A/N: I wrote this because I have that stupid Tik tok edit song stuck in my noodle.

Masterlist

Follow up fic

Agent Whiskey wasn’t sure he was going to survive this arrangement. Champ said it was temporary, but his idea of temporary passed about two months ago. It was a fairly simple assignment, and with everything that’s happened, an easy assignment is a lot kinder than getting kicked off the team. So he took the job, even though the rapidly approaching end of it made him want to drink until he couldn’t see straight.

“It’s a simple protection detail.” Champ had shrugged, pulling the file out of his desk and smacking it down in front of him with a sigh. “She’s a youngin’, at least to me anyway. She’s CIA, talented too, once her life is out of the red zone, I’ll probably recruit her. Sharp as a tack, quick as a whip, and she’s got the mouth of a sailor, she’s right up your alley.” Jack studies the files with interest, running a curious finger over the picture of you that was attached to the file. You were a looker for sure, he listened to champ go on, reading over your impressive and extensive file, until he ran across a bit of information that shocked him half to death.

“She’s got a baby?” He huffed, incredulous.

“Yeah, little girl, her names Daisy May, she’s three. She’s sweeter than a peach, got Tequila and Ginger wrapped around her little finger already, and Momma is just as bad.” Champ chuckled, pouring them both a glass of Statesman’s finest while Jack stared at him intent on hearing every detail Champ was willing to offer. “Her late husband was a SEAL. Top ranking, special ops, very high up on the food chain. One day she goes out to grab dinner with the baby, comes back and he’s dead with a note pinned to his chest with her cover details written all over it. Tried to deal with it on her own, then after about two months she pulls the bottle her daddy- former agent Brandy god rest his soul- left her and called us up asking us to make her disappear. So we called our buddies at the CIA, got her cleared, and we’re doing it. She’s our-specifically your- problem until we can take out whoever blew her cover.”

Jack stared at the amber liquid in his glass and thought long and hard about that one. It’s a dark story, indicative of his own. “Where are we keeping her?” He sighs, swirling the liquid once more before shooting it.

“Well son, that’s up to you. If you wanna do a safe house, that’s fine. We can radio y’all in and use satellite to do the rest, or you can use the ranch. Familiar territory for you, plenty of security, and it means we can all look after her and the little one when necessary.” Champ sighs when Jack slides his glass back over to him.

“Where abouts they from?” Jack questions, “They gonna be ok living in a ranch or am I working with city slickers?”

“Oh no, She’s originally from Prestonsburg, she’s Floyd county born and raised. They were living in Texas though. Her husband was a Texan, moved to Austin to be closer to family and all that. She ain’t got anybody but an Aunt back home, but she’s an Eastern Kentucky girl. She grew up riding horses.” Jack’s eyebrows shot up to the brim of his hat at Champs little interlude.

“Well Shoot Champ, you really shot the shit with her huh?” He laughs.

“Her daddy was a friend, and she’s just like him. She’s a good girl, you’ll like her.” Champ nodded him to the door, and Jack took the dismissal in stride. Champ had high hopes, and Jack just hoped he was right.

Reflecting on it now, it’s laughable how skeptical he was. You were a picture of perfection. When he first met you, he knew, and Daisy put the bow on top of the package.

Funnily enough his horse introduced you, Tequila and Ginger were walking you around the distillery grounds, and had stopped to let you show Daisy the horses. He found you standing outside of a stall, specifically the stall of his horse, Coke. Coke is an Appaloosa with a blanket with spots. He’s not normally friendly with newcomers, having a stubborn streak a mile wide, but Jack was shocked to see you stood in front of the Horse’s stall with no issue. You had the baby propped on one hip, with her head on your shoulder and a thumb in her mouth, and Coke’s muzzle resting on the other. You were casually talking to Ginger while Tequila stared on shocked as you fondly stroked the horse’s muzzle. Normally, everyone knew not to turn their back on his horse, unless of course you were him. Coke was known to be a jester, and liked to nip at your hair or push you around with his muzzle, but there he stood, cozying up to a woman he just met today. He stood back and kept watching, seeing what the horse was up to. He heard the horse nicker and huff, moving his head to push towards the baby and you laughed, letting the curious animal nuzzle at the girl.

“Yeah big boy,” you patted his crest as he moved his head off your shoulder to let the baby stroke his muzzle, “yeah- gentle Daisy May, be nice- yeah big boy, that’s my Daisy, you like her? Yeah, that’s the baby, are you a good boy? hmm?” You talked to the horse and he watched as you pulled a sugar cube from the shelf next to the stall and let the girl feed it to Coke. The big horse oh-so-gently took the cube from the girl, tickling her palm and she giggled. The horse huffed through his nose and threw his head a bit and you laughed. “Oh ho ho! Well, you liked that huh? I’d give yah another big boy but I don’t know if your rider would take too kindly to me fattening up such a pretty stallion, bet you make all those pretty broodmares happy huh? Yeah.” You laugh as he whinnies.

“Well, He took a liking to you quick.” Jack called, making himself known and getting closer to the stall. “Ol’ Coke here is usually a temperamental fella.”

“Who, this guy?” You smirk as the horse huffs again at Daisy’s hair making her giggle. “Why no, he’s a sweet fella. Ain’t yah big boy?” The horse bobs his head as if nodding in agreement and Jack chuckles.

“Don’t let him fool yah,” Tequila grumbled, eyeing the horse warily, “That menace picks on anybody that ain’t him.” He pointed at Jack with a glare and Jack chuckled.

“Now don’t be bitter sunshine, you’re just mad that he pushed you into the water trough last summer.” Jack grinned at you with a wink and you laughed. Then the girl on your hip tugged at your hair a bit and whispered in your ear. Like most children though, Daisy was not a good whisperer.

“Mama, wook, Cowboy.” She mumbled around her thumb, pointing to Jack’s Stetson. Oh how his heart melted, he knew he was a goner then and there.

“Oh man,” you gasped, “you’re right! I bet this is his horsey.” You nodded and the girls eyes twinkled with wonder.

“Horsey pwetty.” She nodded sagely, “Ask him mumma, wanna ride him.” She had the biggest eyes, her tiny curls were barely contained by the pigtails her hair was in. She was a pretty little baby, and a carbon copy of her momma, dressed in little denim overalls and a pretty flowered shirt. She was cute, almost too cute, he didn’t know how he’d survive the next month or so with those big eyes pleading with him to give her anything she wanted, he knew he would be too weak to say no, he has a hard time picturing anyone saying no to her, not even her momma. Speaking of the mom, she was beautiful. She had on a beat up Vietnam tiger stripe jungle fatigue with a patch reading ‘Brandy’ rolled up to the elbows. Her T-shirt read ‘Kentucky Strong’ and he recognized it as one of those charity shirts that raised money for the flooding in Eastern Kentucky. She had aviators perched on her nose and two dog tags around her neck, one that was clearly older than the other, one for dad one for her husband if he had to guess. The best thing about the outfit though, was the shorts, those beautiful legs on full display, so good looking he had to pry his eyes off of her with the strength of ten men.

Jack jumped in all at once, “Am I a cowboy sweet baby? What gave me away? Was it the belt buckle?” He playfully tugged on it and gave an exaggerated frown, the girl giggled a no, and he pointed to his boots. “Oh, must’a been my boots!” He kicked up a heel to show off the worn brown leather boots. The girl squealed and laughed again, and you watched delighted that your baby was having so much fun.

“No!” Daisy laughed again clutching her hands together while she giggled. “No it was the hat!”

“Oh! Why silly me!” He breathed a fake sigh of relief, “I forgot it was up there sugar! Can’t be a cowboy without the hat!” The little girl laughed again in delight and he grinned back. Tequila and Ginger stared on shocked, Whiskey hadn’t been this carefree in a while, this little girl was working miracles. “Oh but I’ve gone and forgotten my manners,” Jack smacks his forehead dramatically “I never got your name Little lady! My name is Jack, what yours?” He extended a hand to the girl and she beamed, tucking her tiny hand in his.

“I’m Daisy!” She grinned, shaking his hand.

“Well, ain’t that just first class, you’re as pretty as a flower, so you must be Daisy!” He grinned at the delighted little girl, then whispered to her conspiratorially, “And who’s this?” He pointed at you and Daisy nodded, her mouth an ‘o’.

She introduced you and Jack smiled, tiling his hat to you, “Pretty name for a pretty lady, I’m Jack Daniel’s, code name Whiskey ma’am, pleased to make your acquaintance, and this here’s Coke.” He patted the horse’s flank as he stepped closer to you.

Your smile was just as magnetic as your daughter’s, and Jack felt his knees buckle, “Pleased to meet you Whiskey, Jack and Coke is my favorite combo, so I got high hopes this’ll be a good arrangement.”

And it was, y’all got on like a house on fire, and now he was very used to having you in his home. He hadn’t invited anyone into his space like this since his wife died. He couldn’t find the appeal in it, but there was something about you and this little girl he couldn’t seem to shake.

You were more than willing to tackle any task, and it was one of the things that he enjoyed most about you. In the months you had been there you helped around the Ranch any way you could. Jack had gotten used to doing the chores on his own, but he was suprised by how easily you worked yourself into his routine. It wasn’t a big Ranch, it was near the distillery in Oldham county, right smack in the middle between Louisville and La Grange. The ranch hosted his three horses, six chickens, two barn cats, and about 10 or so cows. In the mornings, you were up just as early as him, you alternated putting on the coffee, then he would deal with the horses (Coke, Julep, and Sazerac. You got a big kick out of their names, and he loved how you chuckled anytime he mentioned them.) and the cows, and you fed the chickens and the barn cats (Tom and Jerry, all the whiskey themed names). When you finished gathering eggs and greeting the cats, he would come back to you bouncing the baby on your hip while cooking breakfast.

“Well, you feed my animals and make my eggs, aren’t you handier than a pocket on a shirt.” He grinned one morning and you rolled your eyes with a chuckle.

“Well Cowboy, someone’s gotta feed you, black coffee and a Marlboro red aren’t breakfast, and they never will be.”

You were also a brilliant agent. Once you were settled, you and Jack started digging into anything you could find about the people who killed your husband, and you proved yourself an invaluable asset in intel gathering. You dug up more in a single hour than some men hoped to find in a lifetime, but it took its toll on you for sure. Day in day out combing over your husband’s files and trappings, staring at the inner mechanisms of his whole life and wonder what it would be like if he was here to finish all of his loose ends. He understood, and he hated that he couldn’t just take the pain for you, but it was a comfort to the both of you to have someone to talk to.

“Oh, the first week after his funeral was hell,” you sighed, playing with your daughters curls as she slept peacefully on your lap in the evening sun, “I kept trying to call him, to vent with him about how scared and tired I was, only to be reminded this wasn’t a deployment or a buissness trip, he was just… gone. Daisy was a mess too, cried for him every night, wouldn’t sleep until I showed her this video of him saying he loved her that he made her when he went on deployment. It broke my heart.” You sniffled and Jack felt his heart ache with sympathy.

“I know all about that hurt,” he sighed, handing you a beer and settling next to you on the big wrap around porch, “I’d keep rolling over and reaching for her in the middle of the night, I’d touch the cold sheets and I’d remember and it would hurt me every time.”

“Oh god yeah, took me weeks before I could truly sleep on my own again, I used to put one of his shirts on his pillow and sleep with it, it was the only way I could get myself to bed.” You sighed, nodding and sipping the drink.

“I used to spray her perfume on her pillow,” Jack nodded, “When I ran out I forced myself to sleep without it, It was months before I could get a full nights rest again.”

“I couldn’t imagine having to deal with all that alone,” you grimaced, “I at least had Daisy, I hate that you’re alone.”

“Well, I was alone, but I’m not anymore, I got you.” He slung an arm around your shoulder and you basked in the sun together until Jack felt you go lax in his grip. You had fallen asleep in his grasp, and he was shocked at how good it felt to have you be so vulnerable around him. It melted something in his chest. What was he gonna do with you.

You and Daisy just kept growing on him. His life was no longer just solitude and shoot outs, now it was a little more tea parties and tag and it was a very welcome change. You both had him wrapped around your fingers, every moment he wasn’t spending working on the project with you, or with Ginger and Tequila at Statesman, he was with you and your little girl.

One evening you were playing a game of tag, when Daisy just about caused them both a heart attack. You were running around and chasing each other in the small creek out the back of the ranch. Daisy was a doll in her little floral one piece, her wet hair plastered to her forehead and her little feet splashing away. You were a sight too, a black bathing suit with a cut out under your breasts showing off an ornamental tattoo that he really just wanted to-

“Come on Dada, catch me!” Time froze when the little girl said it and your jaws dropped, when you finally met each others gaze, you snapped out of it and turned to your daughter.

“No sweetie, that’s-“ you tried but the little girl cut you off.

“I know mumma. It’s otay though, Dada is no here, so this is my OTHER dada. It’s otay to have two dada.” She smiled and meandered to Jack, squeezing him in a hug. The little girl was barely knee high to a grass hopper, but she had hit him with that bombshell so hard she might as well have been a giant. Then, she just toddled off, finding interest in the stream once more, gathering rocks.

“Darlin I’m so sor-“ he began and you waved it away.

“Don’t worry Jack, she’s three. She adores you, and her only other frame of reference for a consistent male presence is her dad. Besides, if she had to pick another father figure, I’d want it to be you.” With that, you went to go stop her from tormenting a frog, and he stood there like a statue. The way you so casually said that amazed him, you put so much unwarranted faith in him, and it made the hardened cowboy turn to mush. Whatever this turns out to be though, one thing is for sure. He would do anything in the world for you and that little girl, and this just drove it home.

Weeks passed and you all just continued to get closer. Daisy asked for him as often as she did for you now when she’s upset, and he was now totally attached to their evening ritual of snuggling on the couch and watching Bluey. Every day you got closer and closer, and every day you found out more and more about your husbands killer, which ultimately led you to today.

Jack had left early, sun not even being up and the morning dew had just barely settled over the grass. Jack had gotten the mission from Ginger last night, and you had prepped and planned with him until he swore the plans were tattooed on the back of his eyelids.

It was over quick, he took them out and got his necessary intel and now you were safe. No blown cover, no second attempt at murder, just efficiency.

You’re free. You could go anywhere you want and you’d be safe. Where would you go? Your aunt was in Pburg, not too far off, a couple of tolerable hours away. Your late husband’s family though… they were in Texas, and that was more of a stretch.

This was miserable, thinking of all the ways you would leave him, though you weren’t even his to begin with. You were never his, you were just his charge, someone he was meant to protect, you and that perfect little girl. He got so caught up in it, he forgot to protect himself, and now he was faced with an old companion he never wanted to see again, loneliness.

He finally pulled up to the ranch, and Coke and the others were grazing in the first paddock near the front of the house, until the clever horse sees him and trots over with something in his teeth. It was a little stuffed rabbit, Coke had it by the ear and dropped it in his outstretched palm. It was like another painful reminder of what comes next. What would he do when his life was no longer bows and bunny rabbits. How would he go back to the way things were before. He sighed and made his way into the house, he was somewhat confused to see the front room totally empty. Normally, you’d be feeding the baby at this time, she would be sat in in the booster seat he’d bought for the kitchen table, in the little pink bib she always wore, probably making a mess, but then she’s squeal and wave at him and tell him to ‘come sit cowboy! I share!’ You’d laugh and tell her he had his own to eat, and she would frown and say ‘mine better!’ Today though, the kitchen was quiet and he felt his heart hammering in his chest, had you already gone? Were you so excited to be rid of him? But no, there was the sound of a shower, his shower specifically. He wandered into his room, and the sight there strengthened his resolve and told him that he needed to buck up and tell you how he feels, because he never wanted to sacrifice this.

Daisy was laying on his pillow, the stuffed horse toy that was an exact replica of Coke was tucked up under her chin, and she contentedly snored away on top of his quilt. The only light in the room was from the lamp on his bedside table, and a sliver leaking out from the cracked door to his bathroom. He carefully tucked the little girls blank is up over her chin, and listened to you humming from the shower. He was used to sharing his bathroom with you, normally you used the one near your room, but when you needed to shower and Daisy was napping, you preferred to use his so you could hear her if she cried. The warm smell of your shampoo was wafting from the bathroom, and your clothes were laid out on his bed. He ran a hand over them with a soft smile, the whole thing just felt so domestic. The sleeping child, the woman in his shower, the three sets of boots by his door, the pictures on his fridge. They all just felt so natural, filling his empty space with the feeling of home.

“Jack? Cowboy? Is that you?” You called from the bathroom.

“Yeah Sugar, it’s me.” He called back softly, padding his way into the bathroom and leaning up against the sink.

“How’d it go Whiskey? Did all go to plan?” He heard the hopefulness in your voice.

“Yeah sweetness, we did it. You’re free.” He could hear you pause at the melancholy in his voice and he was kicking himself. ‘Don’t ruin this for her Jacky, she should be happy.’ He heard the water kick off and handed you your Terry cloth robe and a towel. Once you were decent, you opened the curtain.

“You say that, but why does it sound like you just signed my warrant?” You asked curiously, squeezing the ends of your hair with a towel. He hadn’t realized how comfortable you had gotten around each other, but he supposed he shouldn’t be all that shocked. All the small touches, the snuggles, then tender moments. He was addicted to them now, and he never wanted to kick the habit.

“Well, I reckon you’d wanna get back to your life now there ain’t a target on your back.” He sighs, removing his hat and running a hand through his hair.

“Oh Jack,” you chuckled and his head whipped up when your palms came to rest on his cheeks. “These past few moths have been some of the happiest moments of my life since my husband passed. My daughter loves you, you are so good with her, she’s had nothing but smiles and laughter. You make my days better, you make me happy.” You caressed his cheek and he was hanging on to your every word, staring into those beautiful eyes he dreamed after these days. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it clearer baby, you’ll have to pardon me for that, Lord knows I’ve been a little scattered, but I have my life, it’s right here, with you. That is, if you’ll have me.”

He was stunned, here in his arms he held everything he never thought he’d have when his wife died. A beautiful woman, a sweet baby, laughter, light, and maybe even love. “Oh honey,” he gasped, pulling you in and finally kissing you like he’s wanted to since he saw you that first day in the stables. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me from you and that little girl.” You giggled and kissed him again, and again. When you finally broke away, you grinned up at him, and in this moment if you had asked him to kill an army of a thousand, he would have asked you what time you wanted him home for dinner.

“Well then cowboy? Why don’t you get gussied up and we can celebrate our new beginnings. Together.”

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #Jack Whiskey Daniels #Kingsmen #Kingsmen and the Golden Circle #Spotify #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal character fanfiction #whiskey #whiskey x reader

411 notes · View notes

thedelusionreaderbitch · 1 year

Text

Jinx x fem! Reader - Tick tock

A/n: I had some much fun with this request, I took some creative liberties but I had an idea and I just couldn't get it out of my head! Enjoy!

Request: Hey! Can I request a jinx x reader who were childhood friends but Jinx thought she died so in a fight with Jinx reader's mask is knocked off, jinx recognizes her and takes her?

Warnings: death, violence, swearing, ptsd, jinx being jinx, cannon? I don't know her, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The three P's:

[Pronouns used: she/her, you/your] [Pov: 2nd person] [Pairings: (romantic!) jinx x reader, (platonic/parental!) silco x reader, (platonic!) ekko x reader]

1 week ago

The Firelights were swarming her, and Violet and that stupid enforcer.

But she would kill them, she would make them pay for ever trying to attack her and her sister.

They were like bugs, fluttering around on tiny wings without care but to annoy her. She brought some down, but flies have always been hard to catch.

A slash across her leg as she screams in pain and repeatedly hits the foolish firelight who hit her. Again, and again.

The raven mask breaks off the firelight's face and-

You.

The smoke bomb erupts from behind her and instinctively she latches onto you as she cries out for Vi. Her sister, they took her, she left- No! They took her!

She left her again.

"Jinx, let me go!" You hissed at her as you struggled in her grip and attempt to back away from her.

"You're supposed to be dead!" She counters back hugging you close to her chest as manic sobs leave her throat. "Why did you leave me?" Jinx finds herself uttering those words all over again but this time without a cry, or a harsh gut-wrenching scream. Just with a broken voice beaten through the horrors of the undercity.

"The Firelights saved me, but I was in a coma for a long time. By the time I had waken up you had already moved on as much as you could with your life. You were healing." You mutter the last three words with a kindness she only knew from you.

She didn't need to know that wasn't the whole truth.

Jinx shakes her head and with her light pink and baby blue polished nails, she cups your face, her fingernails digging into the cheeks of your skin.

"You're never leaving me."

Gripping your hands on her arms as you nodded your head, not erratically like her, but calm - eerily calm.

"Never again."

5 years ago

Jinx as always was all over the place, that was just her personality, crazy as a bug but with the intelligence of the best inventors of Piltover. Probably better. Just the way you liked her, though you would like her even if she wasn't bat-shit crazy.

Where Jinx was messy, you made up for it with your preciseness, with your black suits and room put all together nicely. You appeared to be the opposite of Jinx, yet you both had more in common then anyone would ever think.

"Birds of a feather, flock together."

Even at fourteen years old, the world was already starting recognize you as the daughters of Silco.

They would never be ready for you.

6 months ago

"Y/n!" Jinx screamed at you, trying to warn you of the upcoming drop as you, Jinx, and Silco were leaping from the rooftops. As your dad decided to teach the two of you another lesson.

Yet it was too late, and your foot slipped as you threw your head back in laughter, and your body tumbled down to the hard, grim-ridden ground.

You didn't even get to finish your laugh.

It will never escape you, the irony of the situation. According to statics Jinx was the one who was the most likely to fall, hell even Silco had more of a chance of falling off the rooftops than you. Even with all your perfectness you still slipped from that roof.

Jinx went to jump down after you as Silco held her back she hit, yelled, and kicked him until exhaustion over took her. Although Silco held on all throughout the battle because he wasn't going to go and lose another daughter.

When they left, with a sobbing Jinx in tow a green light hovered over top of you as a brave firelight snatched you from the ground. Your faint pulse beating underneath his fingers.

8 years ago

"Y/n!" Powder called out for you.

"Powder?" You question her from your spot in your "nest" as Vander liked to call your special spot in the room.

She plops down on top of your lap with eyes full of tears she refused to shed lest she be called a baby by Mylo or Claggor.

"What's wrong Bug?" You ask her with her nickname that no one else was allowed to use. One time Violet tried and you knocked her in the jaw, you were on cleaning duty for a week after that.

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around her, bringing her into a hug.

A smile is brought onto her face as she shakily replies. "Mylo said I was a jinx again Toots." She says your nickname back with a frown on her face when she speaks about her perpetrator.

Narrowing your eyes at the door as if Mylo would come through at that instant.

"I'll kill him." You growled and squeezed Powder gently in your arms.

Giggling, Powder shook her head. You always went for violence first, it was almost concerning for Vander and Vi as they were the only ones that could've distinguished that in the Lanes never thinking twice about violence made you dangerous. They wanted you safe, but they didn't want you to be dangerous to be so.

Despite this, Powder never went against your nature, and you never babied her but thought of her as a real person. A real friend, as an equal.

Not that the two of you knew that, you were both only eleven!

"Mylo is still one of us." She states snuggling into your arms. "You can use one of my glitter bombs though!"

7 years ago

Sure you had felt bad when you hadn't come back to Vander, but as a twelve year old you thought you knew the in and outs of everything. The secrets of the world. As you had willingly stayed with Silco when Vi, Mylo, Claggor, and Powder were forced to leave you behind on a supply run gone bad.

The only person you truly missed was Powder, but you knew even through your childish jealousy that she would never leave Violet.

"Y/n." Silco called out to you, as your sharpened your new knives that he had gifted you.

"Yes?" You replied, placing your daggers on the table and jumped from your seat to meet up with the industrialist and a blue haired girl trailing behind him.

"I would like you to meet Jinx." He says, a bit nervously hoping that you - someone who is like a daughter to him would like the girl he had ultimately decided to take in as well.

He stepped to the side and-

Her.

"Bug?" You inquire confused, your mask that you had been wearing for a year had broken. She was back to you, you both were finally home.

5 days ago

"Bug, you have to let me go." You sigh as jinx wrapped her arms further around you and narrowed her eyes down at you.

"No! You'll leave, and I'll never get to tell you-" She chokes on a sob.

Your own eyes filled with tears, Jinx was the only person who could enlist such strong reactions from you. You wanted to hate it, but you would hate her in return if you did, and you could never hate your Bug.

Closing your eyes you realize what was truly going through her mind.

"I'm yours Jinx." You open your eyes to find her intense blue ones staring right back at you.

"I've always been yours."

Jinx blinked a couple of times before smiling her soft smile only few have seen. That even less deserve.

"Me to Toots."

1 day ago

"Thank you councilor for meeting up with me today" You examined your nails as if they weren't ugly and torn apart from where you lived. To this Councilor, it probably made you look unaffected by the contents of this meeting.

"I've seen to be meeting up with you people a lot." He says, obviously stressed.

His name was Jayce Talis, a new councilor and the easiest to manipulate considering Councilor Medarda did it pretty well. Also if he didn't want him and his friends to go down.

"Tell me councilor, what do you think the council will do when they figured out you gave a person of Zaun a hexstone."

You took out the stone from your pocket and let it fall around in your hands.

"What would happen to councilor Medarda for supporting? What would happen to your partner, in perhaps more ways then one; your dear Viktor? Would they send him back to the undercity?"

What could you say? You had done your research and those two inventors have been fueling the tension for years. Hopefully this would be enough to scare the two together.

You slowly let the news sink in and as he girts his teeth and curled his fists and finally the defender of Piltover gave in.

"What do you want." Talis raised his voice in fury.

"Clear Jinx's name." You stated as if it were so simple.

"The council won't just "let up" and clear her name without reason!"

You had a crooked grin on your face.

"Would a corrupt enforcer do it?"

3 years ago

Jinx's bomb exploded in the background as you calmly walked up to the cowering Pilte who had betrayed your father (Silco) and didn't transport the shimmer he was supposed to.

"Please..." He begged for his life, tears brimming his eyes as you flicked out a knife from the inside of your sleeve.

You looked at the man with a deadpan expression on your face, what a pathetic piece of garbage.

Some small little giggles could be heard coming from behind the Pilte causing you to smirk. As you turned around and started walking away you heard the grateful pleas of the man until there was another explosion behind you.

Jinx leaped up beside you and leaned her head against your shoulder as you gazed upon the sunset. It was a good sunset you had to admit, but it couldn't beat the ones in Zaun. You guys just had a far better view then them.

"Silco's going to pissed!" Jinx laughs and laced your hands together.

You shook your head as she swung your hands back and forward.

"I already took care of the idiot's affairs, father already knows."

"You're so formal!" She jumps in front of you, and jabs you in the ribs. "Lighten up Toots!"

Smiling at her, you take her face into your hands.

"That's your job Bug."

2 days ago

"Dad?" You questioned as you came into his office with your girlfriend beside you.

She hadn't left your side ever since she had taken you back from the Firelights clutches. It was a bit much and put a damper in your plans, (also there was the fact that you knew the ultimatum the idiot councilor had given Silco.)

Also you didn't know if you still deserved to call him the title you had given him years ago.

"Y/n?" His voice echoed around the room in disbelief before he was up and pulled up you into a hug.

Yes, there was always more to do but you had reunited with your father and now girlfriend.

You were home.

Present time

Jinx laid on your lap as you braided her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

Zaun was finally free.

3 months ago

"Y/n, you can't just kill people because you want to!" Ekko seethed at you, furious as you played with a dagger.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed yourself off of the tree. "And I already told you Ekko, I do what I want when you hurt Jinx!" You snarled.

Ekko sighed, this wasn't the first time he's had this conversation with you. You're a force to be reckoned with, he should have expected you to be, you were one of the half's of the daughters of Silco for crying out loud!

You were also the same as when you were young.

Although you were usually calm when you had this repeated conversation, Ekko knew when he could physically see you getting more angry every time, this time though you were nearly furious, he had to make a different deal with you.

"Okay Y/n, I'll make you a deal." He started officially picking at your interests, but he couldn't be quite sure so it made him slightly nervous. He did this thing where he would fiddle with his hands when he was nervous, he's done the same thing since he was a boy.

How has everything stayed the same yet it changed so much simultaneously?

"It's not possible for us not to harm Jinx, she's a constant around us and it isn't working."

You nearly wanted to snap at him, hurting Jinx had never been an option in your mind.

Your eyes flashed dangerously, but you waited still, to hear the rest of his bargain.

Ekko usually had more tricks up his sleeve then the other children in the past, it would be a useful skill to still have. For your sanity, and his life you hope he did.

"But I will personally make sure nobody kills Jinx, or fatally injures her and I will get you one of those stones from Piltover."

Blinking a few times you curled your hands together and as you did, Ekko took a few frantic steps back,

Ekko had made you enraged, because this is an offer you can't refuse.

So you calmed yourself and coolly placed your hand out for Ekko to shake as if you were the one to propose the deal in the first place.

Ekko hadn't given you freedom, but he had given you something to destroy Piltover. To clear Jinx's name.

A deal.

Words 2286

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Arcane taglist: None yet

193 notes · View notes

brighttears · 9 months

Text

Battery II Charged

Joel Miller x f!reader

Series masterlist

No physical description

Summary: On the road, your ease lasts only a couple hours before your luck runs out. An overhead confession from Joel leaves your head spinning.

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: mention of Joel’s pill abuse, mention of death, suicide, and grief

A/n: not super exciting tbh, good stuff’s at the end. i’m gonna be fucking with some cannon stuff just so i’m not just rewriting scenes from the show so some things are changed/missing! don’t worry Joel stops being an ass like halfway through this and then we will have soft Joel from now on (mostly, probably)

—

You’ve been up for hours before anyone else wakes, Tess being the first, wandering into the room, obviously having just opened her eyes.

“Hey.” She says when she sees you.

“Hey.”

“Coffee?”

“You have coffee?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she chuckles, strolling into the kitchen to start a pot.

“Thanks,” you say as you get up from the couch, stretching.

“Joel’ll be up soon. Just has to shake off those pills.”

“Does he take those a lot?”

She nods, “Can’t blame him.”

“Why not?”

She turns to you, resting her elbows on the counter behind her. “Let’s just leave it as I can’t blame him.”

You nod. Not your business. Just as long as he doesn’t take them on the road. “Are they coming with us?”

Tess shakes her head, “Nah, he’s not stupid.”

As if on cue, Joel emerges, looking lost. He glances at you, double takes, eyes still almost half shut, and then shambles over to Tess, placing his hand on the handle of the coffee pot.

“It’s not done yet. Just put it on.” Tess tells him. He grumbles incoherently and then goes to slide into a seat at the table, rubbing his hands over his face. “You gonna be good to get outta here soon?” He nods slowly, face still in his hands.

“I can help you guys get packed up if you want,” you offer.

“Sure, you can help me get some stuff together. It’s all under the floorboards in the bedroom.” Tess answers.

Joel speaks up, audibly groggy, “No. She doesn't need to touch anythin’. I can handle it fine myself.”

You sigh, unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, and Tess chuckles.

“Whatever you say, sir.” You salute him. Joel stares at you, then looks to the floor, shakes his head, and peels himself out of his seat to trudge into the bedroom. You ignore the scraping of furniture on the floor and choose to join Tess at the table.

“Is he always like this?” You whisper, sipping the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had, granted you haven’t had one in at least a decade.

She shakes her head, making a face as she sips from her own mug, “He’s better once he warms up to you. But, he’s kinda just that kind of guy, you know? He’s a good guy, and he can be sweet, but, world’s really fucked with his head, you know how it is. He was a whole different person before.”

“You knew him?”

“No, but I knew his brother. He told me what he used to be like. Huge softy, if you can believe it.”

You nod and sip, trying to picture that in Joel. “So, what’s the whole story with him and his brother?” You whisper.

“Well,” she sighs, “they were together from day one. I met them a few years ago, we ran with a crew for a while, met some Fireflies, and Tommy wanted to split and go with them. They kind of had a falling out, Joel and I stuck together, came here. They were communicating through the radio towers but Tommy stopped responding a few weeks ago. That's when we started looking for a car, go out and find him. Just got a tip he might be somewhere in Wyoming, so that’s where we’re going.”

“You think he might be somewhere in Wyoming?” You repeat back, giving her a leery look. You’re not in love with that plan—Wyoming is very far and a big state, there might already be nothing to find there. But, on second thought, you don't really care. You’ll be in a car with two capable people, and that is more than you can ask for. You’re fine just being along for the ride.

“You got anything better to do?”

“Nope.” You chuckle, and she returns one, smiling into her cup.

Yeah, you guess you are friends. The thought almost makes you choke on your coffee; a whole year with nothing like this, only passing faces, fake friends created for the sole purpose of getting something out of it, and, well, Rat King. But now, you’re exchanging an honest smile and chuckles with a woman over coffee. What a lucky break, to have met Tess.

Ruining the moment, Joel plods back into the room, filling up a mug and choosing to lean against the sink rather than take a seat at the table with you.

“I’m not infected, you know.” You say to him. “Not contagious with anything. And if I smell, you smell worse.”

“Fuck are you talkin’ about.” He says into his mug, squinting.

“You’re acting like if you come too close I'm gonna put a knife to your throat.” You stare at him in all his beheaded glory, marks from the sheets not yet faded from his cheek. “I don’t bite.”

Joel just stares back, then, finally and reluctantly, he takes a seat across from you at the table.

“Ok, I’m serious,” Tess says, setting her mug down, “you two better not keep this shit up. It started off cute, but now it’s getting real fucking annoying.”

“Cute?” Joel says, screwing his face up, and you say over him, “I’m not doing anything.”

“Alright, alright,” Tess puts her hands up, “we’re gonna cut this shit out now. You two, shake hands.”

“What?” Joel screws his face up again. You sip your coffee, looking between them.

“Shake her hand.” Tess gestures, raising her eyebrows at him. Joel moues. It’s been nothing more than irritating so far, but now, it’s starting to hurt your feelings a little. You haven’t done anything wrong. For god’s sake, he should be on his knees thanking you for what you're doing for him. What is it about you that’s so wrong?

Finally, he offers his hand, and you shake, his hold firm and warm.

A shock suddenly runs through you as if he was a live wire, and you feel like your skin is melting in the most delightful way possible. The moment of contact is over in a second, but you feel that something inside of you has shifted. You can’t put your finger on what it is, but it feels like trouble. You set your hand on your leg, but it’s as if the warmth from his hand has been transmitted through your skin and onto your thigh. You quickly take your hand away to place on your mug, warm like it’s supposed to be. Your eyes are stuck on each others, but neither glares. Just, stuck. His are brown like dark bark in the sun, rich, deep, pretty. You look down at the table.

“Alright, we got that taken care of?” You hear Tess.

“Yeah.” You answer, eyes still on the table. Joel clears his throat before he copies your response, his tone devastatingly unrevealing. You will your gaze back up only to be caught in his again, and you look around at the wall, down at your coffee, and back up, all in a second, only to be caught again. He holds it for a moment before looking down at the table. Whatever this feeling he’s giving you stinks to high heaven of trouble.

“Alright, good, then let’s get the fuck outta here.” Tess concludes.

You bring the battery back up on your back while Joel and Tess carry the rest of everything you’ll have for a while, abandoning your coffee, not even bothering to place the mugs in the sink. This place will be left exactly as it is, but neither of them seem to mind leaving all of this behind. You leave the apartment and then follow the two wordessly through a maze that eventually leads out past the gates, ending in emerging from a literal hole in the ground. Once outside, still crouching on the ground, you take a deep breath of fresh air, free from smoke and ash and stink. The dawn is breathtaking, being seen for the first time in years, half of the sky barely past midnight's shadow, pulled up like a shade by blood orange leading down to the peachy halo of the sun somewhere behind the toppled buildings, speckled and tangled with green. A flock of birds pass overhead, dancing in the smearing sky. You could laugh.

“Focus,” Joel hisses, looking at you over his shoulder, also crouched, scowl back in play, though it’s understandable in the stress of the moment. You nod. He’s right. Plenty of time for this later. Right now, you’re still not quite in the clear.

The three of you scamper silently through the badlands between the Boston QZ and freedom. As you venture out, though, your excitement begins to fade, realizing that you’ve been looking through rose colored glasses for a while now. The QZ is a shithole, but out here is just a much wider shithole. There's less people, no rules, but neither of those pluses are as good as they had been sounding in your head. Less people, because they’re mostly dead or infected, the rest being not much more than animals who know how to talk sweet. No rules, means, well, no rules, no morals, just the loose goal of ‘survive’, which translates to fight dirty, do anything you can, anything to survive. Live to fight another day.

“How far’s the car?” You ask, the first to speak.

“Not far.” Tess responds, distracted as she scans your surroundings. You're in the city now, the remains of it at least, weaving around crashed cars and large, rocky craters, twenty years of weather and neglect preceded by bombings and a storm of hysteria. You were expecting Joel to say something like ‘We’ll get there when we get there’, but he stays silent, eyes also scanning around. You seem less fazed. Are you not scared enough? Or have they just been inside longer than you have? You do feel like an animal in its natural environment, ears knowing what sound to look at, eyes knowing what movement to check, agile feet over the broken mounds of rock and glass and all of the other debris out in the open broken world.

“The car’s supposed to be at the church on Park Street. Few minutes walk from here.” Tess finally answers you.

“I know where that is.”

“Good for you.” Joel says.

“Fuck off.” You reply.

“Excuse you,” Joel looks at you, screwing his face up.

“Hey,” Tess interjects, shooting both of you a look, “Jesus, I feel like the parent of two disobedient kids. Knock it off.”

Joel huffs and looks at the ground. You smirk to yourself, seeing him again as a pouting dog being checked by his owner.

It’s silent until you reach the church, red brick with a steeple reaching high into the sky. Parked directly in front of it, as if on display, is an old Dodge Caravan, white with fake wood siding, dusted with dirt, wheel wells caked in dried mud.

“This thing looks like it’s from the 90s,” Tess comments. “You think it’ll run?”

“It better.” You say, shoulders aching with a vengeance from the battery still hanging from them.

“You said that right.” Joel adds gruffly.

You stop at the front and lower yourself to the ground to unload the battery from your bag. Finally free of the thing, you stretch your shoulders back with a deep sigh.

“Surprised your back’s not broken by now.” Joel says as he comes to squat next to you, looking over the battery.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’,” he glances at you, “jus’ maybe we shoulda traded bags.”

“I can handle it.” You retort, though he sounds honestly well intentioned, “I’m not weak.”

“Wasn’t callin’ you weak. What, I can't say anythin’ without it bein’ an insult?”

“That’s all it’s been so far.”

Joel just sighs, then stands to open the hood of the car. You stand to look inside with him; all looks right, though you’re not sure you know enough to make a judgment.

“How’s it look?”

“Looks fine.” Joel says, then bends down to take his pack off and dig through it, pulling out a couple tools which he sets on the ground before hefting the battery up and into the empty space under the hood, grunting with its weight.

“You came prepared, huh?”

“Sure did.” Joel mumbles as he picks up the tools and leans over the engine to start working on it.

“How do you know how to do all that?”

“Used to be a mechanic.”

“I thought you were a contractor.” Tess questions, coming up beside you.

“Before that.” Joel replies, “When I was in high school.”

“I can just see you now,” Tess chuckles, “jumpsuit all covered in oil, you name embroidered on the little pocket.”

You laugh at the thought—Joel leaning over a car, jumpsuit tied around his waist as he works, dirty white t-shirt straining against his back muscles and those broad shoulders—”Fuck,” you say to yourself, startled by your own thoughts.

“What?” Joel looks back at you, panic in his eyes.

You dart your eyes away, shaking the thoughts of him out of your head. “Nothing, nothing, sorry.”

“You sure?” Tess asks, raising her eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, yeah, it was nothing, really, sorry. Is the car ready?”

“Just about.” Joel replies as he leans in close to continue with a wrench.

“You sure you remember how to do it right?” You say, recovering yourself. He pauses to glare at you but doesn’t respond.

“Let’s hope he does.” Tess says.

He glares at her too, then states, “I know how to do it. Just give me a damn minute.

“Alright,” Tess chuckles, raising her hands defensively, then steps back to examine the van. She slides over the side door to step inside, “Damn, look at this thing. We could sleep in here.”

You come over to peek next to her, “How the fuck did you score this?”

“Beat it outta someone.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Must have been a good beating.”

“It was.” Joel calls from the front, then drops the hood down and comes around to get into the driver's seat. A pair of keys fall into his lap when he drops the visor down, and he takes a deep breath before easing the keys in and turning the ignition. The van roars to life, and you all laugh with delight, Joel clapping his hands and whooping.

“Hol–ly–shit,” You laugh, half of it being at Joel’s sudden enthusiasm, “look at that.”

“Look at that.” Joel repeats, and you watch his grin through the front mirror.

Just as he catches you, Tess says, “Alright, let me out.” You step back out and she walks around to get into the passenger seat, “Alright, grab your shit and let’s go before our luck runs out.

You and Joel nearly bump into each other as he gets out and he mumbles a sorry before you both go to gather your things. He hands you your bag and you mumble back a thank you. The relief from having a working car must have flooded all the resenting sarcasm out of you, and you actually almost smile at each other as you both get back in. You flump onto the backseat, sighing as you rest against the cushion, rolling your aching shoulders again.

“Thank god I don’t have to carry that thing anymore. N’ I’ve got plenty of room in my bag for all the shit we have to pick up now.”

“What’s our first stop?” Joel asks, adjusting the mirror to look at you.

“About twenty miles west.”

“What am I lookin’ for?”

“Gas station. BP. Next spot’s just the same, gas station about thirty miles west from that one.”

“Alright, perfect, we’ll see if we can find some gas.” He says as he puts the car in drive and starts out, rounding the corner, “We’ll be there in no time.”

You lean back in your seat and let yourself smile. It all worked out. With a car, dare you say, it looks like smooth sailing from here.

“Lemme see if I can find some music,” Tess says, digging through the glove box. “Oh, shit,” she chuckles, pulling out a CD, “Don fuckin’ McLean. Were you ever into him?” She asks Joel.

“Shit, is that American Pie?” He asks hopefully, glancing at it held out in Tess’s hand, “Oh shit, put that on. I love this album.”

You chuckle from the backseat. Such a wholesome little moment, and as Tess slides the CD in and the music starts to play, an air of ease falls over the cabin. Morning sun cascades through the windows and you squint through the dirty pane, watching your surroundings start to speed up past you. On the road again, heading somewhere far, finally free again. No more curfews or guards, no more fucking ration cards or deals in basements. You look ahead to the front seat at your new companions, catching a small smile on Tess’s lips. All you can see of Joel is his shoulder and his hair, wavy and stroked with silver. In the mirror, his eyes are locked on the road, but his brow is relaxed, and there might even be a smile of his own hidden under it. Leaning back in your seat and looking back out the window, the music in your ears for the first time in many years filling you up with giddy warmth, you think you could get used to this.

—

The next couple hours are in fact smooth sailing, both stops being stress free and bountiful, two crates, found exactly where you’d left them, full of food, guns, and ammo next to you on the seat with two red jugs full of gas on the floor below them.

The car breaks down just past the border of Massachusetts.

“Shit.” Joel seethes, waving the gray smoke away from his face as he slams the hood shut. “T’s done.” He announces, looking at you and Tess.

“Fuck.” She mutters, closing her eyes and dropping her head.

You watch the fumes slinking out from the hood. It was foolish to think this thing would take you all the way across the country. Of course it would break down within two fucking hours. Why not?

“Come here and help me get this shit out before the car explodes.” You say, going back to open the side door and start packing whatever you can fit into your bag. You shove another gun into the back of your jeans and empty half a box of bullets into your jacket pocket. Joel is behind you when you back out, and you shove a crate into his hands, “I got most of it. Just take whatever else you can fit in your pack. Same with Tess. We’ll probably have to leave some behind.”

Joel does as you ask, kneeling to unload the contents of the crate and dividing it up for the two of them. Once everyone’s pack is filled to the brim, you leave only a few things behind, set in crates next to the car, and set off on foot.

Joel traces his finger over the folded map found in the glove compartment as you walk. “We’ll just follow route 20. Maybe take a turn at, uh, Albany, ‘bout a day's walk. That’s the next real town, pretty much just farmland for a while.”

“Great.” Tess says through tight lips.

—

At dusk, you decide to call it a day, though you’re only a few hours away from Albany. You set up under an overpass and light a small fire before nightfall takes away the option. Everyone is all deep sighs as you sit back to rest, no one used to all that walking. Your shoulders are still throbbing, a lasting consequence of that damn battery, and you pull your shirt down to see red bruises covering both sides, flashing like a mockery in the light of the flames.

“Damn, that battery really did a number on you.” Tess comments, leaning over to examine the bruising.

“I can’t decide if it was even fucking worth it.” You say, readjusting your shirt with a huff.

“Well, commendable act.” Tess sighs, resting her arms over spread knees.

“Thanks,” you mumble, not used to genuine praise.

After a moment, Joel says, “You look tired.” You look up at him and he’s staring with puppy dog eyes, probably unintentionally, but puppy dog eyes just the god damn same.

“I am.” You mumble, not meaning to be honest about it.

“Well,” he grunts as he stands, pulling his gun out, double checking it’s loaded, and leaning against the concrete wall, “I’ll take first watch. Tess, I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

“This is starting to sound like you still don’t trust me.” You say.

“T’s not.” Joel says, “You just look the most tired.”

You sigh, torn between a longing for sleep and hesitancy to be in such a vulnerable position.

As if reading your mind, Tess assures you, “Don’t worry, we’re not gonna kill ya or split. We’re in this together now, and we need you sharp. Get some sleep.” She nods her head to the ground. You pause, then obey, curling up on the hard ground with your hands between your knees and pack under your head. You’re out within minutes, being more exhausted than you had realized.

—

An almost silent scuffle is enough to wake you up and tense every single muscle in your body, but the two familiar, faint voices relax them just as fast. It must just be Joel waking up Tess for her watch, chatting in between shifts. Their low tones tell you this isn’t for you to hear, but you listen anyway.

“She’s jus’… she’s just so damn… pretty.” You hear Joel. Who is? …Who else would it be, but you? At this realization, your face lights on fire. Tess starts to chuckle, but then it turns into cackling, as quiet as she can manage.

“Sh!”

You can hear the wild grin on her face as she whispers, “You have a crush on her!”

You want to squirm, twist your legs up, but you stay still. You don’t understand the impulse, but you don’t like it, either. You feel like a fucking highschooler; a callback to an alien world, but you haven’t felt anything like it since.

“No, I do not, now be quiet before you wake her up.”

“Yes, yes you do,” she continues to stifle laughter.

“No the fuck I don’t.” A pause. Then, “Shit, maybe I do.” He groans, voice muffled, “I’m fucked, aren’t I, god, I’m so fucked.”

Oh, shit.

“Yes, yes you are.” Tess chuckles.

The worst part is that you’re just as fucked as he is. It seems to be hitting you both at the same time. A crush, yes, that’s what the young aliens used to call it. A fucking crush. Maybe it’s due to time, being much, much, older—hundreds of years older, it seems—but this crush doesn’t feel like any one you’ve had before. Maybe because it’s Joel, like no one you’ve ever met. But, how, exactly? You’ve met damaged people, you’ve met people just as cold, just as standoffish. No man has exactly been this standoffish to you, though; most men you’ve met on the road have tried something within a couple days, even if it’s been in a group. Warm bodies. Hungry animals. Horny survivors.

There’s no way you’re going back to sleep now. Your mind is spinning, gyrating, tying itself into knots. Joel, Joel, what is it about him? You’ve met handsome men. You’ve slept with a couple handsome men. You even held one of their hands once. But, Joel, you’ve barely even touched.

Pretty. That’s all he said. Is he just another horny survivor? None you’ve known have confided in anyone, cared to discuss it with someone. And not anyone has ever used the word crush. Come to think of it, most of them only use the word sexy to describe you, just to say, hey, you’re so sexy, let me fuck you. That’s about it.

Joel, Joel, Joel, shit, what is it?

“Ah, Jesus,” Joel says.

“A crush, wow. Gotta say, I was not expecting that from you. I always thought you were a pork ‘er and move on, never say a word about how you actually feel kinda guy.”

“Hey, you callin’ me a slut?” Joel says. Tess tries to muffle her laughter but it burst out of her hands. “Sh!” She sounds like she has her hands pressed firmly against her mouth, but she’s still laughing.

“Yes, actually, I am calling you a slut.” She finally manages to say, “I mean, with us, it was never like that. I mean, did you have a crush on me? Because, I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t call it that.”

“No,” Joel whispers. “It wasn’t like that. I mean, you know I… care about you, all that. But, yeah, y’know, it was jus’…”

“Yeah, we’re on the same page, don’t worry.”

“Jesus, Tess, this is… goddammit, I don’t have time for this shit. I mean, what should I—what should I do?”

“Don’t look at me, loverboy. I’ve got nothin’. Are you gonna tell her?”

“Fuck no.”

Tess chuckles, “Why?”

“Why on earth would I? This is my problem, not hers. You think shit’s tense now, imagine how’d it be with that piece of fuckin’ information hangin’ in the air.”

“You don’t think she likes you back, do you?”

“Of course she doesn’t.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I—well, I mean,” Joel stammers, “why the fuck would she? Look at me, I’m just some fuckin’... old man, who—who—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Joel. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a good guy. You’re handsome. You’re kind. You’re gentle. You’re a fuckin’ badass. You’re—holy shit, you’re blushing,”

“Would you keep your fuckin’ voice down?”

“Aw, you’re killing me, Joel. I’ve never seen you like this. Never. She has got a fucking hold on you, doesn’t she?”

“Tess, stop fuckin’ around, and just tell me what to do.”

“Hey, I told you, I’ve got no advice on this one. Crushes are not my strong suit. I’m sorry, but you’re on your own on this one.”

“Ah, don’t tell me that. Shit, Tess, come on,” he nearly whines, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

“Alright, why don’t you just sleep on it?”

There’s a pause, then Joel sighs, and you hear him shifting into place on the ground behind you.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This is bad. But it feels good. But it feels bad. You’re almost nauseous with the number of wings fluttering in your chest, almost dizzy, and you realize you’ve been biting the inside of your cheek so much it hurts. Half of your brain is having a party while the other half is looking for a knife to stick in its chest. What does this mean? What’s going to happen? What do you want to happen?

What do you want?

Joel is the first word that comes to mind, and you want to bang it out of your head and into the ground. But there it is, sticking like a bullet under your skin. Should you talk to Tess about it? The only person you can talk to? Tell her you heard everything? Or should you tell Joel? Oh, god, you don’t even know how you’d broach the subject to him.

What, are you two gonna start holding hands now? What else do couples do—oh, god, couples, what, are you gonna start dating? You almost laugh to yourself but you catch it before either of them realize you’re not asleep like you’re supposed to be. This is all like an out of body experience. None of this exists.

Your mind wanders to the one time you have seen something like this—Agatha and John, who you met on the road along with a few others; the lovers, everyone always used to call them. Joined at the hip, linked by their hands almost all of the time. You used to make fun of them for their googly eyes at each other, but they never minded. They were in love, and they knew it, everyone did. Marriage without the $25 piece of paper or veil and bowtie. There was always this rosy air about them, their love was enchanting, so real, so innocent, so sweet.

And then John died. And then Agatha killed herself.

The whole group fell apart after that.

That’s why all of this, ever since the second you touched him, just that shaking of his hand, had given you such a bad feeling. Because you knew what it was, and even before you found the word for it, you knew it’d end bad.

What John and Agatha had was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, even before the world ended. They found each other, and they chose it—love, despite everything, the ugliness, the loss, the loathsome world. And it was so pure, like an angelic little bubble that they floated in. The way they touched each other, the fleeting passes over waists and arms, they way they flowed like a living duet. The way they held each other, when they cried, when they laughed, just, whenever they could. You’ve never seen people sleep so peacefully. The love was tangible between them.

And then when John died, Agatha fell apart, like an angel from heaven, like a baby bird from a nest, into a pile of feathers and blood. She was a shell. For a week. And then she killed herself. She couldn’t live without him.

You envied her before. And then, immediately, you mourned her.

These violent delights have violent ends.

Love is dangerous. A crush is a bullet with god cocking the gun.

58 notes · View notes

teecupangel · 1 year

Note

Okay, ignoring cannon and ubisofts total neglect of Elijah. Here's something to think on.

Au where Desmond is active in Elijah's life, maybe after the whole temple and solar flare fiasco he survives, Bill thinks he's dead and he takes the opportunity to per say... retire. Someway somehow Desmond catches wind of his son, the (loving and healthy) banter they'd have would be gut clenching hilarious it'd make you sick from laughing hard.

Desmond: look kid I really need you to cut back on the attitude at the moment

Elijah being the damn near carbon copy of Desmond with twice the sass: for any malfunctions, questions, or complaints, please contact the manufacturer

All the ancestors somehow watching the banter from the sidelines, either laughing or shaking their heads: those are definitely our descendants

They would have an “Elijah, no!”/”Elijah, yes!” and “Dad, no!”/“Dad, yes!” dynamic and everyone who knows they’re father and son would be like “yeah, that tracks.”

You also know Desmond would be the kind of dad that would make dad jokes because he knows it annoys Elijah. The more Elijah looks like the world is conspiring to kill him with his cause of death being embarrassment, the more Desmond does it.

Plot-wise, this could happen while Desmond was trying to tie up loose ends on his side to make sure his ‘death’ is permanent to everyone involved.

This, of course, leads him to learn about Elijah thanks to a file in Abstergo’s database that connects Elijah to his own file so he deletes everything by physically destroying the servers that housed that specific database and then makes his way to find Elijah.

In this scenario, Desmond knew it would be too risky for Elijah and his mom to stay in New York when Abstergo already knows about them and he managed to get his…… Desmond doesn’t even know what to call her… friend? Ex-one-night-stand? Anyway, he managed to get thru to them and they all leave the US because it’s just simply too risky to stay in the country.

(And, as much as Desmond wants to go to Villa Auditore, that would be stupid).

So they go to a country that has minimal ties with his ancestors and sorta try to live like some kind of sitcom family but Desmond and Elijah’s mom have the romantic chemistry of a wet cardboard box so everyone who knows them knows they’re friends raising their son together. Desmond gets a bar and Elijah has a sorta normal school life.

Then Desmond notices Elijah’s smarter than he actually is but hiding it because they are trying to remain incognito.

“Sorry, kid. I know it’s hard pretending to be someone you’re not.”

“I’m not pretending. I don’t want people to know I’m smarter than all of them combined.”

“Okay, take it down a notch, Einstein.”

“Do you know what they think of the smart kids in school? It’s just a different kind of torture, being known as the smartest kid in a government-mandated prison. I’ll probably get pushed all over in the showers if they knew I know how to use all the chemicals in the science lab to build a bomb. ‘God’ forbid I drop my soap…”

“Oh my god.”

Really, Elijah and Desmond say a lot of stuff that gives them headaches but that’s how similar they are. Elijah also likes to stare at the people his parents date and go “good luck” before going back to his room.

And both of them know Elijah is just being a little shit to make the poor innocent ‘date’ paranoid as fuck.

And Desmond would have problems with how to talk to Elijah at the start, of course. He had missed a lot and it was just awkward between them.

Until he realized who Elijah acts like.

Always curious about everything and anything.

A sharp tongue with a habit of sarcastic and dry humor.

A genius who knows he’s a genius.

Oh god.

His son was a mini-Altaïr!

And that is how Desmond realized that the best way to get into Elijah’s skin is to be a loving dad who likes to tease his son.

And Elijah, as much as he pretends to be annoyed by it, actually leans in whenever Desmond ruffles his hair or hugs him.

Not that he was going to say anything about it though.

Nope.

Sidenote:

I kinda like the idea that Elijah’s personality is a mix of a young curious child with the arrogance of Aita. Being kidnapped and watching his mom die made him a quiet child that has anger issues. So this Elijah would be happier and much more polite. He’s only sarcastic when he’s annoyed or close to someone. Also, his first crush will be someone who can kick his ass and Desmond would just stare at him because… yeah, that tracks.

And, if we keep Desmond’s Bleeding Effect, Elijah could interact with his ancestors as well. Might even call them something like variations of ‘grandpa’. They usually try to pretend to be Desmond whenever Elijah’s mom is there but Elijah knows which is which by now.

Desmond knows about it and he can’t help but feel happy that his own son accepts even that part of him.

#we always ignore canon anyway XD #edward can also be included in the bleeding effect #he has a feeling he knows elijah but he can’t be sure #elijah just keeps quiet #oh course #elijah knows he’s a sage #but he’s keeping it all a secret #because he’s afraid desmond would hate him if he knew #he was the sage of a man that loved juno #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #elijah miles #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

130 notes · View notes

the-wisteria-house · 1 year

Text

The Arrangement (Rengoku x reader) - Chapter 1

Arranged marriage series

Today is the day that determines the rest of your life. Today is the day you'll meet your fiancé. You're terrified- to say the least.

Warnings: mentions of Alcoholism,verbal abuse, arranged marriage, awkwardness,and cannon typical violence.

As you stood on your porch, the sun rose in the background, though you couldn't focus on the pictureqsk view before you, too focued on trying to calm the stress that racked your nerves.

You'd been fidgeting with the collar of your kimono trying to cool down for the past few minutes, but it did little to help, 'Gods, was the heat this hellish a moment ago?'

If only your mother hadn't pushed you out of the house at the first sign of light. Maybe you'd be able to cool your nerves with a cup of tea? Alas, it seems it wasn't meant to be. As you thought of the events of this morning, you couldn't help but be hurt at the way she pushed you out as if you were the worst scum of the earth.

----------------------

Moments before

"Mother, wait a moment, let me at least use the restroom!" You pleaded with the woman as she had a death grip on your wrist. She'd hardly given you enough time to get ready. Hell, the sun was hardly up, and she was dragging you out the door already. Whoever was coming to collect you wouldn't be there for at least another half hour. Your pleas for her to loosen her iron grip fell on death ears as she pushed you out the front door.

"Mothe-"before you could spit the last syllable, she slammed the door in your face. You stood there for a moment as anger corsed through you as you held your sore wrist.

--------------------

Present

As you tried to shake the memories from head, you didn't notice a man approaching you. "Hello, Miss! Is this the (l/n) residence?" His booming voice caught you off guard. The man had long blone hair that faded into a firey red, broad muscular shoulders, but his eyes were what caught your attention the most...

'Thoses eyes, i know thoses eyes." You swore you knew this man, but you couldn't pinpoint from where.

In your concentration, you realized you may have been staring for too long. This realization made a light blush dust your cheaks.

You quickly shook yourself out of your mortafactain and responded, "Ah, yes, it is." You then continued wanting to satify your curiosity, "Do I know you, sir? I swear I recognize you from somewhere. Have we met?"

"I admit you also look familiar as well, but sadly, I can not place why." He paused in thought before bowing and speaking, "I'm Kyojuro Rengoku, and you are?"

'Rengoku sama offered me a pretty penny when he heard I had a daughter perfect for his son.' Your mothers words rung out as you realised who you were speaking to.

This was your fiancée... You didn't let this realization faze you as you stealed your nerves and bowed before speaking.

"(Y/n) (L/N), I'm guessing you're here for me?" You knew you had to make a good impression, so you kept the distain out of your voice despite the difficulty. You knew he probably wasn't a willing participant either. He didn't deserve your rage, but this didn't make the situation easier on you.

" I see, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long?" He asked in the same booming voice from earlier. This time, you were only slightly caught off guard.

"No, no, you didn't. I wanted to catch some fresh air as I waited."You reasured, hoping he wouldn't question you further. You couldn't tell him your mother practically threw you out the door. What type of first impression is that? You also would have come out for air a little early anyway to calm your nerves and to avoid the impossible woman... So it wasn't a total lie. You just came out sooner than you wanted, or at least that's what you told yourself.

"Well, that's a relief to hear. Would you like to say your goodbyes before we depart?" He offers politely. You knew you couldn't say fare well to your mother even if you wanted to. The door was locked, and she'd taken your key the night prior. There was no way in... a part of you was relieved at this fact, but another part of you was saddened as well as thought about everything, 'I couldn't even walk around one last time...' Then a voice broke you out of your thoughts.

"Miss (L/n)?" It was Rengoku. You'd almost forgotten he was here.

"There's no need, I said goodbye a long time ago..." Glancing at your home for the last time, you turned and walked in the direction that you'd seen Rengoku come from. He paused to look at the old house before following soon after. He couldn't help but wonder what your words truly meant.

You were around an hour into your journey, and you still had much longer to go. Kyojuro was trying to figure out how to start a conversation with you. Usually, he wouldn't have had such a hard time with this type of thing, but he couldn't read you. Did you want him to leave you alone? He wouldn't blame you if that was the case. He wasn't exactly thrilled about the unfortunate circumstances of your meeting, but he hoped you wouldn't hold it against him...

"How long till we reach the next town?" Your question broke him out of his thoughts, "Oh! We'll be coming up on it soon, we can rest for a bit if you'd like?" He was starting to grow thirsty anyway, so you could stop at a stall to grab refreshments while you were in the town. Hopefully, you'd strike up a conversation in the process. He didn't want to stay in this awkwardness forever.

A few minutes later, as you were approaching the town, you'd spotted a cool beverage stand and decided to purchase nurisments from said stand. After purchasing your beverages, you found a nearby bench to rest on, as the minutes ticked on the awkward silence, was growing suffocating. You were trying to look at anything, but Kyojuro, when you spotted a baked sweet potato vendor.

"Say, Ms. (l/n),How do you feel about sweet potatoes?" Kyojuro followed your gaze to the cart.

"That's hardly a question -" You look at him face full of disbelief. He grew confused and quickly responded, "Well, if you don't like them, we can -" You cut him off, realizing he'd misunderstood your response, "No, no! I love sweet potatoes! They're actually like my favorite." You then realized you'd cut him off, embarrassing yourself further. "This is going great." You sighed under your breath, cursing yourself eternally.

"How do you like to make your sweet potatoes?" His question caught you off guard. He wasn't mad that you'd cut him off?

"Uh, i like cutting mine in slices and tossing them with seasioning before baking them or frying them in a pan, but I'll eat them in any form. How about you?" You looked at him with interest. This was the first real conversation you were having with the man. He looked up in thought before replying, "It's so hard to choose just one! Sweet potatoes are tasty in any form, but I'd have to say I'm in agreement with you. Fried sweet potatoes are by far the TASTIEST way to make sweet potatoes!" His voice boomed. You couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. What he did next surprised you, though.

He quickly stood before speaking, "I've suddenly been hit with a craving for sweet potatoes Miss.(l/n), I'm going to go buy some for us! Wait here, please. "

"Wait! Mr. Rengoku, you don't need to waste any of your money... on....me...." He was already ordering before you could finish your sentence.

'How the hell did he get over there in less than a second!?!? He was just right here!' You watched the cashier give him his change and two baked sweet potatoes along with it. How was he so fast? You stared in disbelief as he approached you, sweet potatoes in hand.

"Thank you, Mr.Rengoku, but you didn't need to waste your money on me." You say as you take the sweet potato before continuing, "Not that I'm complaining, of course." Kyojuro couldn't help but laugh, "It's no waste! It's not every day you find someone who enjoys sweet potatoes as much as I do! So I had to celebrate!"

'That was actually....kind of nice and unexpected.' You were confused by his kindness toward you, though it wasn't unwelcome.

"That is true, but still, thank you." You smile before taking a bite. It'd been too long since you last had a sweet potato, so you were revoling in the flavors. You then look at Kyojuro,wanting to see what he thought of his potato, "TASTY!" He yelled out with great vigor. You were inclined to agree with his statement that the food was infact very delicious.

"TASTY"

'What the-' You were beyond confused.

"TASTY!"

'Why is he-'

"TASTY!" His voice didn't lose an ounce of passion. You noticed the looks of passersbys and couldn't help but blush. They were staring at not only him but you as well. You then looked at him, wanting to tell him to shut up, but when you saw the joy on his face, you didn't have the heart to do it. The child, like joy in his eyes, softened soming in you. You signed interternally. You could deal with the embarrassment if i meant not hurting his feelings or dampening the joy in his eyes. Plus, the passersbys should mind their own business! You reminded yourself.

'He's been nothing but kind to me despite theses less than ideal circumstances, so what if he's a little weird?' You reasoned internally.

"TASTY." He shouted once more.

'Okay-really weird,but still!' Despite how weird this situation was deep down, you couldn't lie and say you didn't find his passion slightly admirable.

You left the town soon after you both finished your sweet potatoes and continued heading along the trail for the next few hours. While you both mainly remained silent, it wasn't as tense as it had been previously. The atmosphere you shared was actually peaceful, but like all good things, this came to an end. Why hadn't any pedestrians passed you within the last half hour? This road was meant to be busy, right?

"Mr.Rengoku, is it me, or has no one passed us in quite some while?" You were hoping you were wrong, but you swore something wasn't right. Worry and confusion filled you as he hummed in agreement.

"You're right, but the question is who or what is causing people to not come down this trail?" His voice was different than it had been earlier in the day. It was more calculated, and abstant was the cheery tone you were just starting to grow use to. His eyebrows were furrowed in a deep concentration as he looked straight ahead.

"We'll never know if we keep standing here. " You respond calmly before taking a step forward into the shaded forest. If you weren't so on edge, you'd probably comment on the beauty the forest held. It was amazing how tall and large the trees were, along with how dense the thick green canopy was.

As you both continued down the trail, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of your footsteps. It was quite... unnaturally quiet. You and rengoku shared a look. 'Good, he's on the same page.' You thought before suddenly the your hair on the back of your neck stood up.

You look at Rengoku before subtly whispering, "Rengoku, we're being -" Your voice was cut off by the sound of a twig snaping behind you.

"Just keep walking." He wispered lowly," They don't know we know they're here." You follow his instructions, trusting his judgment, praying you wouldn't regret it later.

------------

Moments later

What Kyojuro believes to be a demon has been tailing you for the past few minutes. He knew better than to tell you of his thoughts. If you weren't aware of the existence of demons, of them this way, as you could have a bad reaction that would give the demon a perfect opportunity to strike. Usually, Kyojuro would have already taken care of the demon, but he didn't know if there were more demons following. If there were, he couldn't fight and protect you at the same time, so he was stuck waiting for the right time or for the demon to make the first move.

'Why hadn't I sensed the demon the first time i came through?' Kyojuro felt shame fill him, but one thing confused him. Why would the demon wait till midday to strike instead of early in the morning while it was dark? Surely, they realize suspicion would arise if people kept going missing mid day.

As he looked around, the realization hit him, 'If they kill midday, it would go under the corpses' radar.' He then then continued his thought as he noticed the thick canopy above you,'The forest is the perfect hunting ground, dark enough were they can mostly move comfortably and it has enough traffic so they can feed regularly.' He found himself almost impressed with their ingenious plan, but it seems their hubris will be their downfall.

He looked over to you, expecting to see fear or at least uneasiness on your face, but you had a straight face, one void of negative emotion. There was no hint that anything was out of the ordinary. You turned to look at him. In that moment, he realized the statement, 'The eyes are a window to the soul.' Had some truth to it. Your face may have been completely relaxed and void of emotion, but he could see the fear in your eyes. A scorching hot rage filled his being as he searched your eyes. Not toward you, but towards the thing that caused that fear within you.

At that moment, he made a silent promise to you, 'Don't worry, Ms.(l/n). I'll protect you from this demon if it's the last thing I do. There's no need to be afraid.'

----------------------------

Hey, guys! I hope you enjoyed reading this. I had a hard time writing some parts of this chapter. I ended up going back through and editing a lot of parts. Though I still, I feel as if I didn't capture Kyojuro's true character. What do you guys think? Let me know below. Thank you to @tengensimppp for being my beta reader, I appreciate your help and feedback! Thank you everyone for reading!

Last part: Prolog

Next part: Chapter 2

310 notes · View notes

serenefreakgeekao3 · 2 months

Text

Ever in our favour

CHAPTER SIX

[Table of contents]

Summary: Someone new enters the fray... Warnings: Cannon typical violence, descriptions of blood and death Author's Note: Hey, it's been a super long time since I've updated this fic, and I apologize for that. This chapter is also a bit shorter than the rest, but I felt it was a good stopping point, and figured posting something rather than nothing would be better. Enjoy!

“You mean to tell me you showed someone one of your specialities?” Your mentor stared at you with a saddened look in her eye, her long blonde hair tied up into a messy bun atop her head. She shook her head slowly, sighing. “What did I say before?”

“I know,” You mumbled, shrugging as you poked your food around your plate. The dining room in this apartment was splashed with a multitude of colours- it still shocked you, having grown up in the muted world of District 9. “Don’t show them what I can do so they don’t know what to look out for. Don’t make friends, don’t talk to any of the others, because you’ll just feel worse when you’re in the arena. I know.”

“What do you mean, ‘don’t make friends’? Did you make a friend?” She asked, glancing between you and your district partner- the one that had brought up this conversation. The one that had told on you to your mentor, saying you showed a contestant or two how much you know about differentiating plants. You didn’t really care if she knew, but you were trying to avoid this exact argument. You sigh, looking back up into her eyes.

“Yes, I made a friend. I think if I’m completely alone out there I’ll be killed quicker than I can run.” You held back your next comment- that you actually liked Peeta, that you hoped he liked you back. But you couldn’t think that way, you were doomed. You both were. Your mentor shakes her head again, reaching out to place a hand on your fidgeting one.

“Y/N-”

“Oh stop it,” You pull away, shaking your head. “We both know I won’t survive this. I’d rather go out on my own terms. Being loyal to someone who is loyal to me. Maybe even helping the right victor succeed.” You push away from the table with a huff, shaking your head. “I’m going to my room for the night.”

Those memories were already precious in your head, and you wouldn’t let either of them spoil it, not when you were about to lose your life no matter what. You would take that smiling, sparkling image of Peeta to your grave. His laugh was infectious, and you knew from the looks of the other contestants that you were just painting another target on your back. But he’d seemed so sweet… You had just wanted to know if his eyes really were that shade of blue…

As you startle awake, you hear voices nearby. The events of last night slowly come back to you as you sit there, blinking in the low light. After having escaped from Toby, the boy you had killed for the fish, the group of you had hunted down a secluded enough spot to build a campfire and rest for the evening. Peeta seemed almost too good at spotting the right areas to sleep, as he had come across a natural cave opening that seemed the perfect spot. You had settled down to begin carving the fish as Rue ran back and forth, gathering materials to build a big enough campfire that could cook the fish for the lot of you. Peeta spent his time disguising the entrance to your little cove, and after all was said and done you had taken a look. If you hadn’t just pushed past that bundle of leaves, you wouldn’t have even known where the entrance was hidden at- or that there was an entrance to begin with.

You would feel settled by that fact now if you didn’t hear a distinct female voice that you knew was not Rue. Not only did Rue tend to talk in almost hushed whispers most of the time, but this one sounded older. Probably around your own age. You push yourself to stand, wincing at the soreness of your muscles, before inching yourself into the small grotto that Peeta had surrounded. You spot Rue sitting next to the snuffed campfire, knees pulled up with her arms wrapped around them. She lifts her head as you emerge, shooting you a smile through her fear, and you begin to make your way toward the exit. You can hear the voices clearer now.

“What do you mean you can’t- Peeta-”

“Listen, I have-” You hear him grumble, and you begin trying to find a spot where you might be able to peek through the foliage. “I just can’t come with you, okay?”

“What, is it that District 9 person you kept talking to before? You know they’re just going to betray you, Peeta.”

“And what, you won’t?” Peeta’s voice almost sounded harsh, but his demeanour wouldn’t let it get that far. Instead, he just sounded firm, almost in disbelief of what the girl had said. The silence that followed said a lot before you heard her finally speak up again.

“Of course not, Peeta. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Only one of us can make it out of here alive, Katniss.” ‘Oh, it’s her. The girl from your hazy memories, the Girl On Fire. Peeta’s district partner.’ “You know that as well as I do.”

“But you choose to follow around someone you don’t know?”

“I know-”

“Someone you hardly know, then?”

“And I know you more? You hardly knew me back in twelve.” There’s another silence and you feel yourself getting antsy, patting your pockets to locate and withdraw your knife. You flick it open, feeling it lock into place as you strain to listen for any movement. “Look, you should just go. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you give me a reason.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, Peeta,” You hear a soft voice reply, and that antsy feeling in your chest ramps up to 100%. You push your way through the disguised exit, not bothering to hide the knife you’re wielding, but not raising it either. You watch as both sets of eyes turn to you quickly from the noise, and you make sure to keep your face emotionless. She looked plain, almost too plain for someone who had flames bursting out of her back a week ago.

“I think he said he’d like you to leave now.”

Katniss stood tall, a few feet away from Peeta, with her hand holding a rather impressive looking silver bow. With Peeta’s eyes on you, he missed her reaction. You never thought you’d see such a burning hatred in someone’s eyes, something that was hardly reflected on her face. She still looked emotionless, but she couldn’t hide her feelings in her eyes. You began to wonder if Peeta could see it too, if he knew how to read her as easily as you did. You glanced to him, watching him visibly swallow, eyes slightly wider than normal, his hand twitching at his side. They both spoke at the same time.

“Y/N, please, go back inside-”

“I told you before, nine-”

CRASH

You stumble back, knocking into the pile of bushes behind you, managing to catch yourself before you fell through. The scene before you seemed to happen in slow-motion, but also in an instant. Something- someone, just crashed through the nearby brush. Someone large, who had pushed through from the opposite side of the tiny clearing the three of you had been standing in. Katniss was knocked to the ground immediately, and you watched in sick fascination how her head banged against the rock nearby before she immediately tried to push herself up, shaking her head. Meanwhile, the figure that had pushed Katniss down now grappled with Peeta. You knew from experience that he had some skills with wrestling, but it didn’t seem to matter when opposing this brute of a man.

You couldn’t think, everything began moving quicker and quicker, Peeta getting thrown to the ground and Katniss stumbling on her own feet, shaking her head and raising a hand to her new wound. The man turned his attention to you. You locked eyes, his deep brown gaze penetrating yours, and his dark hands reached out toward you. You swiped your hand toward him, feeling resistance and watching in satisfaction as he hisses and withdraws his right hand, a new slash of blood welling up on his palm. He snarls, moving to pounce.

Peeta had pushed up already, tackling the man with all of his might, but still unable to move him more than a slight stumble. You try to regain your balance from your half-leaned position in the disguised opening of your campsite, but you couldn’t regain your footing fast enough. The man grabbed Peeta by his shirt with both hands, lifted him until his feet were no longer on the ground, then yelled out in fury as he threw Peeta a good distance away. Your heart rate spikes, and panting, you finally manage to gain a footing, crouching slightly in some memory-locked defensive position. Behind him, Katniss raises her bow, aiming an arrow for his back.

He looks at you, then charges. His hands wrap around your throat, pushing you down to your knees. You couldn’t fight him, his strength was just too much. You glanced behind him again, and watch with dread as Katniss slowly releases the tension on her bow and lowers the arrow. She wasn’t shooting him.

You were pushed further down, struggling against his hold. You couldn’t breathe- not in a panicked way that you’ve since grown to know, but in a holy-shit-I’m-about-to-die way. Your back hit the grass, the dew from the morning beginning to sink into your shirt and soak it. What an odd thing to worry about now, the chill on your back as you struggle to find breath. You beginning hitting his hands, pounding down onto his wrist in any attempt to move him.

“Thresh!”

This scream was familiar, but you had no time to ponder why Rue would suddenly be yelling since you were able to finally gasp a lungful of air. Thresh had looked up, directly behind you- likely at the young girl who called for him- and accidentally released his hold on you in surprise. You gasp in again, pushing his hands away from you in a panic before his gaze looks back down at you, locking eyes. Then a silver arrowhead appears in the center of his throat. Through his throat. You can see his eyes widening, a gurgle of blood spilling from his mouth and falling down onto your chest. Frightened of your fate if he falls forward, you begin to frantically push him to the side, managing to get your feet planted on the ground for an extra shove. He falls to the side, and you decide you can’t look at him anymore- figuring the gurgling sounds and his clawing at his own throat will haunt you enough.

By the time you managed to stand, the blackness fading from your vision as you heave deep breaths, you watch Peeta run across the small field and shove Katniss.

“What the hell was that?” He screams, and you’ve never heard him so angry, so bloodthirsty.

“What do you mean? I saved them!”

“I saw you!” He pointed at her, glaring as he took a few steps back. “I saw you lower your damned bow-”

“I shot him, didn’t I?��

“You were protecting the kid!” Peeta screams, clenching his fists. You blink, remembering Rue and turning quickly. She stared in shock at Thresh on the ground, unmoving. You rush to her, turning her around and holding her face to your stomach.

“Of course I was protecting the kid! You think I’m going to protect them? What do you think this is, Peeta? Some romp in the woods? A fun little camping trip to meet friends?” You placed your hand over Rue’s available ear, pressing her tighter against yourself. Peeta was visibly shaking in anger, shaking his head.

“I know what this is, Katniss.”

“You obviously don’t.” There was blood framing the right side of her face, dripping down from the top of her head and beginning to drip off of her chin. Her eyes were dead of emotion, but flickering constantly for danger. She looked deadly.

“I’m not going to let them change me, Katniss.” Her eyes finally settled on him, and there was something there. She was too far away, and the light was low surrounded by all of the trees, but there was something there that just looked too familiar.

“Then I’ll do it for you.”

She’s so quick you almost missed her moving, but suddenly she had an arrow notched and ready to fly, aimed directly at you. You watched her breathe out, and it was a split second before she released that Peeta sidestepped quickly to set himself between the two of you.

“No,” Peeta growled out angrily, shaking his head. His hands were still clenched, and he looked tense enough to pounce at any moment. “I won’t let you. If you touch them- either of them- I will kill you myself.” You hear no response, but after a few moments pass (long enough that you want to throw Rue somewhere safe and push Peeta down and yell at him to stop being so self-sacrificing) you watch as Peeta takes a slow step forward, his voice low and dangerous. “It wasn’t five minutes ago you were telling me that you don’t believe I’d harm you. Want to test that theory?”

You slowly start prying Rue off of you, who had at some point raised her arms and circled you in a death grip. It took a bit of struggling, but you pulled her off and kneeled down in front of her. As quiet as can be, you point back into the concealed camp. She shook her head, her curls flying back and forth, before you stern your expression and point again. She raises a hand, rubbing the (real) tears from her cheeks, and begins to scamper back into her hiding spot, as quiet as a mouse. As you stand, you hear her voice.

“We should worry about One and Two before we start the infighting, don’t you think?” Glancing over, Katniss not only finally lowered her bow, but slung it onto her back. Peeta was still tense, his hands loosening and clenching once more, over and over. If you didn’t know any better, he might’ve been deciding whether to deal with her now or later. You take a small step forward, then another. Enough that you’re right behind him now. With a light touch to his back, he still startles, loosening the tension as he turns to look in your eye. He seems so conflicted, and your heart breaks slightly for him. He must’ve known her back where they’re from, somehow.

“I think that sounds like a decent plan, don’t you?” Your voice was a whisper at this point, but you could still see the confusion cross both of their faces, as you turn your gaze from Peeta to Katniss. It might not be a very smart plan, in all honesty, but you only knew one thing for sure. You would kill Katniss, yourself.

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark #gender neutral reader #tribute reader #rue hunger games #the hunger games #fanfiction #also posted on archive of our own #ever in our favour #in the arena #katniss hunger games

16 notes · View notes

ashcoveredtraveler · 5 months

Text

Pure Vessel/The Hollow Knight things, designs or head cannons I might use for them(or are already using).

- They are very blunt. They haven't been taught the whole song and dance about jokes and haven't been taught social norms among nobles. If they aren't afraid of whoever they are speaking to or if they respect the bug, then they would be honest regardless of how rude it could come off as. They think honestly should be above all else based on what they went through.

-They aged and physically looked older after their Sealing. I was mostly inspired by this work by @atlantic-grave . The artwork makes the PV look older than most artworks of them. White Lady and the Pale King don't really look old, but they look mature and not young. So I feel like PV looked younger than their parents when they were fully grown, and then time in the Black Egg along with the trauma they endure made them age to a point where they can look their parents age or even older depending on if they are going through a rough patch. I am still considering making them look older but I am unsure how to make them look older as their face is shell and it's harder for them to emote.

-In my rambling on what the hk would do after escaping the Black Egg, a lot of the options I gave were that they tried to have a "normal life". Whether that be getting an education, learning a trade, or ruling over what's left of Hallownest. I feel like they wouldn't "retire" and just try to be a normal bug as much as their injuries allow them to be so.

-While PV isn't hollow, it is hard for them to make attachments to anyone or anything. They weren't taught to cherish trinkets and were only taught to use tools and their skills. So I bet you they would only accept gifts they could use. Even though they cared for the Pale King, I would think that it was more of respect and worship and not actual attachment. So once out of the Black Egg, they would probably think nothing of the death of The King and move on easier. They learn to make more attachments when recovering.

- PV had vision issues after the sealing before and after their sealing. I'd imagine they would be super photophobic cause of their void nature, the future blindness from their mother and the past blindness from their father. I also saw a fic called The Shenanigans of a Blind Vessel, and in that PKs light blinds them when they are ascending. Another thought I had was that all vessels are blind but they are super sensitive to everything else. Regardless PV has vision issues and their sealing makes it even worse.

-The Radiance carved out vocal cords for hk during their sealing. She was so she could hear them scream outside of the dream. When they were released they had the ability to talk, but that took a lot of time and healing. Even then they talked in a quiet raspy voice. However the way that The Radiance carved out vocal cords the way that moth vocal cords are formed, so they knew the syllables then they could speak better Lightling(moth language) then common Hallownest.

#hollow knight #hk headcanons #headcanon #hk hollow knight #hk pure vessel #the hollow knight #hollow knight pure vessel

19 notes · View notes

willowmosby · 9 months

Text

Listen I told my self that I wasn't going to get invested enough in Person of Interest to talk about here but here I am anyway. It was chugging along being a good background show with Some really fun, if a little trope-y, cop characters and watching Harold Finch and John Reese act kinda gay and stop crime. I'm a big Amy Acker fan ( that's actually why I even started the show) so I wasn't upset about the shift in focus towards Root and Shaw a little bit as I entered season 3.

The problem I have actually run into is fucking season 3 episode 9: The Crossing. It just made me angry at a show's choices in a way I haven't felt in a while - please note I haven't watched past that episode as of writing this but I will eventually do so.

An the assumption that she really is dead( that looked pretty fucking fatal) I will miss Joss Carter a lot but that's not necessarily what made me angry. It seemed to me that the writers knew that the actor wanted out of the show from the start of the season as the whole season 3 arc was a seemingly slow moving suicide. It wasn't poorly written but it was obvious that this was a different type of Joss Carter than season 1 & 2.

No my problem wasn't necessarily her death. It's the "romantic" declarations of the episode. Now before you look back at the start of this and post and think I'm just mad because it wasn't my very unlikely to ever be a cannon ship that got confirmed, well you're only partially right.

Yes I'm a Rinch shipper( if follow my blog at all you've probably put together that I often root if the queer ships) but I genuinely would have been fine resigning myself to fanfiction while they get hopelessly paired up with some unsuspecting women. I understand that's how crime drama TV operates. And you know I actually like John and Zoe as a ship, if they were developed a bit more I think they could've been a lot of fun.

My problem is not that the whole you "saved me from commiting suicide" speech John gives Carter is equally, if not more, applicable to his relationship with Finch. Well, okay my problem is not only that. My problem is where was any of the romantic build up between Carter and John, like literally anything? They work great as narrative foils when Carter was still on the "the law is the only law" train. And they work great as friends as Carter steps more into the "some minor crime for the greater good is okay" camp. But not once did I think " oh these two are about to fall in love". Not even when Shaw asked about it earlier in season 3 did I think the show was going to actually pair them up like this. Now I hear you when you say that there are examples of characters with less chemistry have become couples. It's just, I'm not sure what the narrative gain is here. They had to know they were killing off Carter that same episode and this "revelation" doesn't add anything to the character. If anything it doesn't make sense with the revenge for Cal Becher (Beacher? Beecher?- You know who I'm talking about) angle that the writers have been using all season. And if it's about furthering John's character that's just dumb. I wouldn't consider it fridgeing as I'm pretty sure this is an actor who wants an out of contract situation(feel free to correct me if I'm wrong), but that doesn't excuse it as a narrative choice. John unequivocally cares about Carter and would be upset about her death regardless or romantic inclinations, as would Lionel and Finch. They already have an in on the revenge story line (which is where I assume they are going with this). Why bother with the romance especially when John already has the lost love story in his background. Like what Jessica isn't enough of a dead romance they needed to shoe in Joss as well.

Anyway I also wish this was like a mid season finale not episode like 9. Like bro why are you putting away one of your biggest villains so far and this is only a third of the way in the season.

And I wish that Lionel wasn't just suddenly back in the plot, like I know you have a bigger cast now and I m glad he's here but build the guy up a little bit better please.

I also think the Root in a cage thing is a little weird like I know all of these people are chugging the " the ends justify the means" juice but it still seems like there are other options Finch would choose. ( that being said Root and Finch's conversation about the machine somehow come off like " I had sex with your daughter, and I don't care if you know” which was hilarious to me)

Anyway sorry for the rant thanks for listening and I do hope the show gets back into a groove.

#Tldr: R.I.P Joss Carter; I would you stayed the cop propaganda you were meant to be #instead of dying mid a shoe in romance plot.#person of interest #POI #person of interest season 3 #person of interest spoilers #Harold Finch #john reese #Joss Carter #lionel fusco #Root #sameen shaw #zoe morgan #rinch #anti joss x john

28 notes · View notes

cutefoxybubble · 2 years

Text

Wild & Wicked - Theseus Scamander

No reposting . Reblog if you like

A/N : I am so nervous to write this but oh god. I CAN'T SLEEP WITHOUT WRITING THIS SHIT SO IF IT'S NOT GOOD PLS SKIP LOL. 😭 hope ya'll enjoy it

Summary : You knew what you were putting yourself into. Joining Grindelwald wasn't one of the smartest choices you ever made. But again, you didn't care much about the consequences of your actions. But when you saved a certain Auror from a killing curse your own side set off, you never knew it would change your life forever.

Warning : possible spoilers, mentions about death, fighting, swearing, typos and grammar error, I probably missed some things but I'll try to add them later-

Genre: enemies to lovers

Paring : Theseus Scamander x fm!reader

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

You were under attack.

When the wall behind you was blown up, you were thrown off your chair and your head hit against the stone floor with such a brute force that your vision was turned into a disoriented array of black and white spots.

"Shit,” you said under your breath, quickly coming back to your senses as you looked around. You swiftly pulled your wand from your coat pocket.

The Castle had been blown to pieces, chairs scattered the floors, most of Grindelwald's men were strewn across the floor unconscious, and the dust was so heavy in the air that it was hard to breathe without coughing. For a moment you looked around trying to get your head back on straight as you looked around and saw the commotion around you. Some of the Grindelwald's men were disapparating and most of them being captured. There were only few of you fighting.

You peeked out from your spot for a one, a red flash of light nearly hitting you the moment you stuck your head out to get a view of the scene. "GET THEM!" Someone shouted as you dodged the spell. You could some of your people knocking out Aurors. Dark spells flying everywhere. The green flashes were bright in front of you and you knew that your people were killing.

Suddenly, clouds of sinister black smoke dipped in and out of the crumbling building as Grindelwald's followers apparated into view and immediately began casting spell after spell, aiming right for the Aurors.

No killing, just stun them enough to get out of here.

You were in your element as you walked into the battle, sending powerful magic rippling through the air, hitting the Aurors square in their chests with each forceful blow. You fought and fought, you could feel your magic straining from fighting for so long and then suddenly you were thrown into a brick wall, a groan escaping your mouth. You looked up to see your attacker. He was standing tall in the middle of the tomb, his wand still raised at you.

"You bastard," you muttered under your breath, you flicked your wand at him, sending a purple hex hurling at him as he deflected them with ease.

His voice was steady yet gentle when he first talked. "Give up already, there's no way for you to escape," he said as he flicked his wrist at a stunt spell you send at him, sending it back to you as you stoop up stepped out of your way. You frowned a him. He was right. You were outnumbered. Most of your teammates were being captured by Aurors.

So is that it? Askaban?

But it was at that moment when you heard a crack like a cannon erupting and turned just a moment before you saw a thousand sparks of red erupting towards you from another Auror’s wand. The force of the impact knocked you off your feet and you fell backward onto the stone-paved ground. Your head collided with the cobblestoned floor, a shard of broken glass from a latterly shattered window catching on your lip as you skid across the floor, tearing your skin open and filling your mouth with the metallic taste of your own pain. Anger coursed through you as you scrambled to get up when you were lifted up by a strong grip on your arm.

It took you a few seconds to realise what was happening. He was standing too close to you, his blue eyes were pretty, you noticed, too pretty. The Auror was handsome, there's no denying that. You were a girl after all.

You stared at him which felt like forever when you felt the cold metal of cuffs closing around on each of your wrists with a soft click, restraining you from using your magic. You were too late when your head snapped towards your wrists. You looked at him with disbelief written all over your face while he was grinning at you smugly. Maybe that's why he couldn't see the deadly green curse flying at him from his side.

The next few seconds were a blur in your mind as your grabbed the man infront you by the shoulders and pushed him out of the way, saving the two of you from the deadly curse with not a moment to spare and sending both of you crashing onto the ground. A moment before your head collided with the rough floor you locked the eyes with the attacker, he was glaring daggers at you. You knew what you had done, but betrayal didn't even feel like a betrayal. In fact it felt like relief. and happy? You didn’t know why you had stepped in, but in the moment, it felt as though it wasn’t even a choice.

You were starting to feel the strain of the fighting take a toll on you and your head was ringing from her earlier fall. You let out a pained groan before your vision went spotty and then it was just the darkness that engulfed you.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

WHATEVER YOUR HEAD RESTED ON FELT FIRM, BUT ODDLY comfortable. You snuggled closer, feeling safe and warm—wait what-

Your eyes flew open.

You jerked back from handsome son of biscuit's shoulder so fast you cracked you head against the wall behind you. “Fuck!”

Theseus couldn't help but be amused at your clumsiness. It was like your head never gave you a break, always colliding with something. But that didn't stop him from being concerned about you as you looked around the room.

"Are you okay?" He asked with his brows high.

You ignored the concern in his voice and glared at him. You had no idea how long you’ve been out of it, not to mention your head hurt like a bitch.

"Who the hell are you?" was the first thing that came out of your mouth. You would've think you were in Azkaban but you don't think they have a messy yet cozy bedrooms like this.

He answered looking at you with expression which you couldn't quite put in place," Theseus, Theseus Scamander."

You've got to be shitting me

The freaking HEAD AUROR?

Right. That would explain the metal cuffs that were resting o your wrists, still. You huffed and turned around while taking in your surroundings trying to avoid his eyes as much as possible. And anyways what the hell was this place? moreover why would he bring me here.

"How's your head?" Theseus asked, trying to get your attention back at him which he perfectly managed to do.

"It's fine," no it's not. You could still feel the metallic taste on your mouth and your head-well it felt like a hungover. Apparently Theseus could see that too. He scoffed.

You looked down at your wrists and clenched your jaw. You tried to break them, channeling all of your magic into it but it was useless.

"Don't try, you can't get them out," Theseus said standing up staring at her blankly, even though you could see the twinkling behind them.

You scowled at him as you stoop up, the floorboard creaking under your legs. Theseus walked over, his figure casting a shadow over you as he silently pointed his wand at your face and fixed your busted lip. You lifted your fingers to the now healed spot before grumbling, “I could have done that.”

"A simple 'thank you' is sufficient," He said rolling his eyes as he turned away and walked towards the door.

"Why did you bring me here?" You asked as you followed him to the hallway. The place were colored in a dull yellow color, you could see shirts and socks thrown everywhere. It was a mess, honestly even messier than your room.

"Why did you save me?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why didn't you let that curse hit me?" He repeated now slowly turning to look at you.

You thought about it. Honestly you didn't know why, it was just instinctual and you worried about why you had been so quick to jump to his defense. Sure you were on the bad side, or they say it is, but it never meant you wanted to kill.

But you didn't want him to know about it, so you just shrugged it off. He rolled his eyes again and started walking towards the door. He stopped right before it and turned to you and crossed his arms over his chest.

You raised your brow questioningly at him.

"Your hands. Do you want them free or not?" He asked in a taunting tone leaning across the door as he stared at you.

"Oh" was the only thing you could get out of your mouth as your stretched your arms toward him as he freed you out of the cuffs in a one swift motion. You muttered a small 'thanks' to him as he opened the door to bustling streets filled with muggles. You looked up at Theseus, who was now looking at you. This man is an Auror, and you are one of the closest follower of Grindelwald-well not now. How the fuck did you managed to end up at his home-or apartment whatever it is.

His eyes traveled towards your face and then back to your eyes, like he was searching for something, "Nobody has to know about this. Do you understand?" He finally spoke.

You scoffed. What did he think you were going to do? You were pretty sure you have being labeled as a traitor by now. Which mean you're probably on the hate list of Grindewald. You could almost imagine the unpleasant future you're going to have. Thinking about it almost brought your headache back.

"Sure thing," You replied nonchalantly, and with that, you showed past Theseus and set down to the busy street of god knows where.

In the wrong direction, of course.

#theseus scamander #character x reader #fantastic beasts 3 #theseus x reader #theseus scamander x y/n #theseus scamander x reader #callum turner #fanfic #secrets of dumbledore #enimies to lovers #wizarding world #post wizarding war

266 notes · View notes

andy-solo1 · 2 years

Text

Heartache [Cassian Andor x Reader]

Cassian Andor x Reader

Part 1 of a 3 part fic for Cassian Andor x reader.

Warnings: Angst, Andor spoilers, brief mentions of suicide, cannon typical violence, mentions of death, cannon character death

Words: 4,554

Notes: This is the longest single chapter I’ve ever written and I poured everything I had into it. I really hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

“On program!” Kino yells and you quickly place yourself into position. You lost track of the amount of times you’d done this. The days spent toiling away, each passing by in an endless blur just like the day before. Hope was a nonexistent entity. Your only hope on any day was not being the team in last place.

You’d heard the whispers of an uprising. You’d seen the others communicating between floors, trying desperately to find a way out. But you knew it was a hopeless endeavour. There were only two ways of getting out of Narkina 5. By finishing your sentence and being freed, or in a body bag.

The officer on the level above shoved forward the latest poor soul to enter the compound and rode the small elevator down. You studied the new man, his brown eyes blown wide as he took everything in. You knew what he must be feeling, for you’d stood in his place once. And realising that this is what your fate was, was a crushing feeling indeed.

After the guard was gone and Kino gave his speech, the new guy moved in towards his table, the one next to yours as work started back up once more. You kept your eyes glued to the task before you, unwilling to let your group fall behind, to be the last team. Even as you focused on your task you could hear the murmurings of the group next to yours, curiosity driving you to pay some attention to what they were saying.

“What’s your name?” Melshi asked, probably already guiding the new guy into his work.

“Keef Girgo.” The man replied curtly, and that was the last you heard from the group as Kino snapped at them to get to work.

* * *

The flames flicked high into the sky, casting the world around you in a red glow. Your eyes strained to see anything through the flames and smoke. The same smoke that was filling your lungs, making each breath feel like another flame was burning within your lungs.

You screamed, looking all over to try and find your family. You knew they were here somewhere within the flamed wreckage of what had once been a peaceful village.

Someone far off screamed in pain and you thought you recognized their scream. You turned to go towards them when a tight, vice-like grip grabbed hold of your arm. You let out your own wailing scream of despair as the stormtrooper gripping your arm began to drag you out and away from your home.

You struggled against him with all your might, but he wouldn’t let go, rather he tightened his grip upon you. You were strong, working the soil all your life had taught you strength, but he was a trained soldier, he knew how to hold back someone who could be stronger than him. You were left weak and at his will.

The stormtrooper threw you onto a shuttle, a few others were on it with you, fellow villagers. All of them covered in soot and ash, fear blowing their eyes wide open, as you knew your own were.

Silence rang in your ears as the ramp to the shuttle raised and lifted up off the ground. Your stomach sank as the shuttle flew off, away from the fire, away from the remains of your home, away from your family.

You just knew you’d never be back again.

* * *

Keef Girgo, or rather, Cassian Andor, watched the proceedings of the prison in silence. A dull emotion had settled over him, and he wasn’t sure what it was. Hopelessness perhaps. Or, perhaps it was his resolve to find a way out no matter what, which was something he wasn’t entirely convinced wouldn’t just end with him dead. But he was willing to try.

So he observed the proceedings around him during his work shift, and even as he stood waiting in the walkways with the others in his group for the changeover of shifts, he observed. That’s how he saw one of his fellow prisoners making gestures out the window, and looking, he could see one of the other walkways, and a prisoner over there making hand signals back to the man on his side of the glass.

“What are they talking about?” Cassian asked quietly.

“Plans of escape usually, though I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Nobody escapes from here.” You whispered softly in reply. Cassian turned around to see you standing behind him, he froze for a few moments as he took in your features.

“On program!” Kino shouted, walking past the two of you and Cassian snapped back around, falling into position like the others. He knew he shouldn’t push boundaries, at least not on the first day.

“They are organising an escape?” He asked you quietly, keeping his eyes glued before him.

“They attempt to. It’s also just a way to talk between floors.” You replied quietly. “But like I said, nobody escapes, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“What other choice is there if not to try to escape?” Cassian asked. He could tell from the tone in your voice that your spirit was crushed. But he believed that escape was possible, and he was going to die trying if it came to it. He owed it to Maarva to try and get word back to her.

“Keep quiet!” Kino shouted from the front so loud Cassian almost missed your reply.

“Finish your sentence, or die in here.”

* * *

Days blended together for Cassian. He worked, trying to help prevent his team from coming in last everyday, and tried to work out escape plans with his fellow inmates who were already working on plans. At nights, before the floor would activate he would gather with the others and work out plans in hushed tones. Even though none of the prison guards would be listening in, they all agreed they didn’t need Kino yelling at them all for making up foolish plans, as he had a few times before.

Cassian was distracted from the conversation when he saw you walking past. He didn’t know why, but something about you just drew him to you.

Maybe it was the fact, that even though everyone here had a sense of hopelessness to them, especially so with the increased sentence times, you seemed to be so much more devoid of life than any of the others.

Leaving the conversation, Cassian stood outside the opening to your sleeping quarters, the one next door to his. You looked at him, quirking your brow in question.

“Why don’t you want to escape?” Cassian asked you. He’d asked the question of a few others, and mostly he’d gotten to learn that if they could, they’d want out.

“There is no escaping from here.” You replied flatly.

“And what if you could. Wouldn’t you want to?” He pressed. He didn’t know why he was so persistent with you. But he wanted to know you, wanted to know everyone around him really, but especially you.

“Do you have someone at home to go back to?” You asked him instead of answering.

“I do. I have my mother.” He replied. He looked into your gaze, and for the first time since he’d been there, he saw more than just blank despair. He saw pain, raw and true flicker across your features. As you opened your mouth to say something to him, a voice rang out above them all, warning prisoners to return to their cells before the floor became active.

You turned your back on him and he watched you for a few more moments before quickly moving over into his cell just before the lights went dark and the floor went live.

* * *

The shuttle landed down on some planet. You didn’t know where you were. You had never before left your home, never even left your village, and now, here you were, being ushered off a shuttle by stormtroopers, scared and practically alone. The other villagers were with you, but like yourself, they were all silent, fear and anguish gripping their tongues tightly.

The stormtroopers lead you all into a large building and had you all wait in a line before who you quickly came to realise was a judge. The stamping of the sentence tickets rang out in your head, like a guillotine dropping over the necks of everyone she sentenced.

Finally it was your turn on the chopping block as you stepped up before the judge. You repeated your name out to the judge before she read out your sentence, your stomach dropping out from your gut.

“Guilty of rebellion against the empire. Six years.” She stated, and down came the sentence stamp. The clang of the metal being engraved ringing in your ears as your whole body and mind went numb.

You awoke with a gasp in a pool of your own sweat. You could feel it across your back and dripping down your forehead. Standing up you stumbled forward to the edge of your cell, trying to get some cooler feeling air as you tried to shake the memory from your mind.

Your whole body shook as silent tears began to fall and you slid down the wall until you were sitting right on the edge of the floor. You let out a choked sob and you faintly heard the sounds of someone moving on the other side of the wall.

“Are you alright?” You heard someone whisper quietly and it took you a moment to realise it was Keef. You took a long, shaky breath before answering.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” You replied quietly, lying to both yourself and him.

“But, you are crying.” He replied, sympathy in his voice. You were both silent for a few moments after that. You turned your head to gaze blankly at the red lights on the floor as tears still flowed freely down your face.

“Have you ever lost anyone?” You asked, so quietly you weren’t sure he’d even hear you.

“Yes. I lost my father. And I’ve seen the deaths of others around me.” He answered honestly. “What about you?”

“I lost my whole family. I don’t know for sure if they died, but deep down. I know they’re gone.” You replied, voice cracking as fresh tears rolled down your face in heavy waves. “They’re all gone.” You sobbed. “My parents, my brother, everyone. They’re all dead. They’re all gone. I’ll never see them again and it’s all because of this blasted empire.”

You put your head in your hands and cried. You cried until you didn’t think any liquid was left in your body. Keef had been silent so long you’d almost even forgotten about him when he finally spoke up again.

“The empire is the reason my father died. The reason why I was not able to stay with my mother. They’re why I’m here now. I understand loss, but yours is a greater loss than I could know. I am sorry for that.” He said quietly. You knew he meant well, trying to comfort you, but the words fell hollow and heavy on your heart, so wrung through with pain that it surprised you when you felt a small flicker of warmth and appreciation for the man.

“Thank you Keef.” You whispered softly, wiping away the remainder of your tears.

“Cassian.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s not Keef. It’s Cassian. Cassian Andor.”

“Well thank you Cassian. And, your secret is safe with me.”

* * *

Something was deeply wrong. Everyone could feel it. Taga was frantically trying to communicate with the other floors as panic levels rose within everyone.

Panic gripped your heart like an icy vice, sinking its talons in deep and making your blood feel cold as it coursed through your veins.

“What’s going on?” Cassian asked from Taga’s side, looking out at the other floors despite not being able to translate the hand gestures himself.

“Something’s happening on 2.” Taga replied, panic lacing his tone as he continued trying to communicate with the others.

“Everyone calm down.” Kino ordered, though even he had a note of panic in his tone. That was something that worried you deeply. The floor manager never once showed panic or fear, but now. Now you knew things were really wrong if even Kino was impacted.

“What is going on?” Someone yelled.

“I don’t know. Something’s happening on 2 but nobody can say what.” Taga replied, more panic in his tone than before. You could practically feel the fear in the air now. Everyone was on edge and nobody knew what to do.

Suddenly the voice of your captors came over the speakers, calling for all prisoners to get on program or face consequences. Everyone was in too much of a panicked state to process the order at first.

“Get on program, now.” Kino ordered, pulling people away from the windows. Soon they were all complying, standing still with your hands on your heads.

“What happened?” Cassian hissed.

“Be quiet.” Kino snapped, not turning around to look at him.

“They’re all dead. They killed the whole floor.” Taga replied quietly. Shock fell through the group and you felt like you could breathe anymore. Each breath was an effort for you as you followed the others in the lineup towards your sleeping area.

Panic held you tightly in its clutches as your mind ran wild. The only reason you could think of for them killing a whole prison floor was that they found out that they, like those on your floor, wanted to find a way to escape.

Numbly, you barely even registered you were back standing before your cell, taking a few moments to realise where you were. Cassian started to walk past you and you snapped. You were beginning to care for the man, having had other late night talks with him when neither of you could find any comfort in sleep. And now, with these new events, you didn’t want the man to wind up dead, much less bringing all the others to the grave with him.

“You realise why they killed them!” You snapped, moving to stand before Cassian. He looked at you, slightly bewildered at your sudden change in mood and tone. He’d never heard you speak in more than a hushed tone, and definitely not with so much venom in your voice.

“Why?” He asked quietly.

“Because they must have found out they were looking for a way to escape. Why else would they kill an entire floor? You need to stop this, you’re going to get yourself and everyone else around you here killed.”

“We don’t know that that’s why they killed them all. And I’d rather die trying to get free then let them break me in here trying to work for a freedom that may never come.”

The blood was roaring so loudly in your ears that you didn’t hear the warnings for the floor. You didn’t hear Kino yelling for you to get into your cell, now.

The next thing you knew, your arm was being grabbed and you were pulled up against someone’s chest, just as the lights in the room went dark and floor went live.

Your breath came out in ragged gasps, the rage and anguish that gripped you before dissipating as you stared at the spot on the floor where you’d been moments before, the same spot of floor that now ran with an electrical current, set to kill anyone who dared touch it.

Slowly you turned your head to look up at Cassian. He still held a loose grip of your arm, hand just above the elbow. Your chests were nearly touching, but closest of all was his face, his mouth close enough to you that you could feel his breath fanning across you. Your heart thrummed in your chest, and you were certain that he could hear it. For the first time in a long time, you truly felt alive.

However, the moment was over before it could even truly begin as Cassian slowly let his hand fall back to his side and took a step back in the already small space. The pounding of your heart slowed back down and the feelings subsided, leaving you back to your bleak world, as though the colour had been leached back out of your life right after being able to see it again for the first time in a very long time.

“You can take the bed for the night since you’re stuck here.” He offered quietly, and you nodded mutely in response. All the emotions from before and the near death experience as well as the odd swell of emotions from being faced so close to Cassian left you feeling numb.

You lay down on the bed and find sleep a hard thing to come by. The events of the day left your soul feeling raw, and your heart feeling numb. Eventually your eyes became too heavy to hold open and you drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

The dreams were different this time. Rather than reliving the events as they happened, you could move around, and you weren’t sure if that was worse.

You watched as the stranger approached your village, injured and weakened. Your mother, always a kind woman with an open heart for anyone, helped the man into your home. You learned little about him, but it was clear he was hiding from something and despite protests on your part, your mother insisted on keeping the stranger and helping him.

Then they came.

You screamed and tried to stop them as they marched towards your home. They carried on walking, despite all your efforts and you watched helpless as they banged on your door. It was odd, seeing yourself opening the door, watching as your eyes widened in fear and called for your mother just as you had that day.

You disappeared from the doorframe and your mother appeared instead.

“What can I help you with?” She asked politely, calm even then.

“You are harbouring a fugitive of the empire. Return him and the punishment will not be as severe as it can be.” The leading stormtrooper replied.

“I’m sorry. We have nobody here like that.” Your mother replied, lying to the stormtroopers. You closed your eyes, tears falling because you knew what came next.

The stormtroopers searched your home from top to bottom, but found nothing because your mother had moved the stranger next door when reports came to her of the approaching stormtroopers.

The same stormtroopers who returned later that day and began to burn everything down.

You were helpless to do anything but watch as your brother stormed towards the Stormtroopers, begging them to stop and blocking them from getting to a home. The home of his Fiance that he’d so proudly asked to marry him just that morning and you’d all been so happy about. That happiness felt a lifetime away now.

A scream was ripped from your throat as the lead stormtrooper casually pulled out a blaster and shot your brother down. A single shot to the head and the stormtroopers stepped over the still warm body of your brother, smoke curling up from the wound, and began to set fire to the house. The screams from inside the home echoed in your mind as you stared down at the face of your brother, a look of fear and anguish permanently frozen on his features.

Once more you woke, drenched deeply in sweat. You were shaking and tears were rolling freely down your face. You exited the bed, stepping carefully over Cassian who was asleep on the floor and walked to the edge of the cell.

You leaned forward, staring down at the floor. Every nerve and fibre in your being told you to do it. All it would take was just one step. Then you could finally be free from everything. You lifted one foot and started to move forward.

A tight grip on your arm came suddenly and pulled you back into the cell and flush up against Cassian’s chest once more. His breath came in ragged gasps of panic across your face and you could see the fear in his brown eyes.

You broke down sobbing, burying your head against his chest as his arms moved to encircle you. He gently rubbed your back as you cried. He knew to just let you get it out of your system and wait for you to be ready to talk.

“I’m such a hypocrite.” You sobbed against his chest after a while, the tears had resided some, though you were still crying. “I was so mad about a whole floor being killed, but then I-” you broke off into sobs again.

“You are not a hypocrite. Hearing about the deaths of others is always a hard thing. And I don’t know what drove you to this, but I know you must have had your reasons.” Cassian replied quietly. He slipped a hand under your chin and tilted your head back to look at him “But please, promise me you won’t try this again. I care about you, and if that means nothing, then just hold onto the fact that if you can get one person to care, you could get someone who you care about to care too.”

It took you a while to process his words, gazing up into his soft brown eyes, you could see the care he’d come to hold for you in the time he’d been here shining in his gaze. You leaned in closer, heart pounding in your chest in a different way that it had been before. Cassian closed the final distance between the two of you.

His lips were soft and warm against yours as your eyes fluttered shut, leaning into the kiss. You moved your hands up to hold the back of his head while his hands moved to cusp the sides of your face. Everything about the moment was pleasantly warm, and that warmth filled your heart, chasing away the lingering curls of the sadness from before.

Eventually the two of you parted, though still remained close in each other's arms. You opened your eyes to look up at him, and saw a small smile curling his lips. A smile came to your own lips.

“Please, promise me you’ll stay for me.” He whispered softly. “Don’t leave me.”

“I promise.”

* * *

Your heart was racing in your chest as you followed Cassian and Kino through the halls. Adrenaline fueled you and the three of you ran towards the command centre. So far, Cassian’s escape plan was actually working.

Ulaf’s death had spurred things into action and now, now that freedom was so close you could nearly taste it, you actually felt hopeful.

Cassian kept you close to him as you went. He carried a blaster and took out any guards you came across for you. He knew you couldn’t handle killing anyone and he wasn’t going to force you to make that choice.

When you reached the command room you stuck close behind Cassian, listening as Kino made his speech. Everything Kino said set your blood ablaze, giving you a newer will to get free.

When the three of you left the room, you were all chanting, so was everyone else in the building.

“One way out!”

“ONE WAY OUT!”

The flow of people pushing past you was strong. You got separated from Kino and Cassian as people pushed past you, and pushed you closer to the edge of the prison. You didn’t even get your own chance to jump as the waves of people pushed you over the edge.

Hitting the water was a shock on your system, and your head slipped under the water for a few moments. The sudden cold stunned you for a few moments before instinct kicked in and you swam your way up to the surface, gasping for air as you got your head above water. People were all around you, swimming as fast as they could to get away from the building. Your heart tightened in your chest as you looked around in a panic.

“Cassian!” You screamed, trying to find him. You didn’t know if he’d hear you over the sounds of the waves and the people swimming through them but you had to try. “Cassian!” You screamed again, turning around to look the other way.

You were about to give up when you finally saw him, and he was clearly looking around for you too. He looked over and spotted you and he quickly went over to you, Melshi with him as well. Together again, the three of you began to swim, just like all the others.

Away from the prison. Away from the pain. Away from the empire.

* * *

Niamos was a quiet planet, especially now as the sun was setting before you. You stood next to Melshi, watching your first sunset in years. Your new stolen clothes feel so much more comfortable against your skin than the prison uniform ever had. Glancing back towards Cassian, you watched him talking on the phone for a moment, trying to contact his mother to let her know he was okay.

“We might be the only ones who made it.” Melshi said quietly next to you, drawing your attention towards him.

“I still can’t believe we made it.” You replied softly, and he gave a small smile.

“One way out. And we found it.” He replied, before looking to Cassian as he came over to join the two of you. “Everything okay?”

Cassian nodded “Yeah, it’s fine.” You could tell that he was lying, but you weren’t going to press him, not right now.

“We need to let people know about what happened.” Melshi said and Cassian nodded in agreement. “I think we should split up, get the word out. If they were moving prisoners around on Narkina 5 they’re probably doing it in other prisons too.”

“I agree. People need to know what happened.” Cassian said, and he pulled Melshi into a hug. The two embraced before parting. Melshi gave you a hug as well before Cassian gave him a blaster and the two of you watched as Melshi took off on his own.

“My mother died.” Cassian told you, long after you’d stopped seeing Melshi in the distance.

“Oh Cas, I’m so sorry.” You replied, turning to look at him.

“I’m going back to see her funeral.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“No, the empire is there. I can handle myself but please, don’t come. If they get me, I can find my way out again. I don’t want to put you through that again though. Promise me you will wait for me.” He says quietly.

“I promise.” You whisper, and he pulls you close in his arms, pressing his lips to yours. Heat fills you once more, and this time, there are no others who could see the two of you around.

Cassian gives you a night of love and passion. And even though your mind is distracted by everything about him, deep down you knew.

You knew in your heart that when you woke in the morning he would already be gone. In his place was a note with just three words.

‘Wait for me’

121 notes · View notes