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captain-camille · 2 months

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_ 𝐀 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧 _

‣ Jack Sparrow x f!reader

‣ requested by anon ‣ 4,2k words

‣ After the ruthless pirate Captain Connor kidnapped you; a mermaid, your situation seems hopeless. Until another outlaw appears who has a score to settle with Connor and ends up freeing you along the way. Destiny or not - there is a connection quickly forming between you...

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ yn got kidnapped and treated badly, violence, mention of injuries/blood, language

Slowly, the distant gunshots faded to peaceful twitter and rustling of an insular rainforest. The Sinister Lady was lost to the firepower of another ship; a huge vessel with imposing black sails.

Captain Connor was cursing a pirate named Jack Sparrow when less and less of his prized possession was seen above the water surface.

The reason for the crew's obvious fear of this man, whoever he was, was beyond you. However, you overheard two men whispering about a chart Connor had stolen some months ago.

Much to your chagrin your abductor's new plan was to shake off Jack Sparrow in the uncharted part of this island. By foot.

The men who had been holding you hostage for over two months after your violent abduction in Whitecap Bay didn't care in the slightest that you were used to a tail, not legs.

A faint sigh of destiny told you that there was no use in running from the man who was coming for the crew of miscreants around you.

But could dying today really be worse than constantly awaiting death?

You raked your neck to get a last glimpse of the unfamiliar ship before the path would be peppered with bushes and Ramón trees.

“You! Sea whore!“ the first mate suddenly barked at you, yanking at the rough metal chain that was locked around your wrists.

Blood was smeared on your skin from how sharp the metal was. Your legs hurt from how far they had already made you walk.

Not daring to look him in the eye, you simply lowered your head. The consequences for misbehaving were ugly.

“Not tha' hard“ he muttered in a disgusting slur. “Ne'er slow down, or else I put a bullet in ye pre'y head“.

Resilience was weighing down on you like a barely comforting blanket. But you knew there was no use of resistance.

You had tried.

Another filthy pirate caught up with the first mate, exchanging glances of egotism with him.

“Ye know, I'll get meself a whole lotta wenches with all tha coins from sellin'er“ he growled, showing off his rotting, black teeth in the process.

A cold sensation of repulsion and woe cascaded down your spine, reminding you that your buyer could be even worse. Vertebra by vertebra.

Your skin began to burn with every minute you spent separated from the sea. Any water.

Oh, how you missed surging through the vast ocean.

But, frankly, you did not miss any of your sisters after they had left you behind with Connor. Most likely they thought you were dead by now.

That is if they were still thinking about you at all.

Every step was exhausting as you were still getting used to walking on your legs, let alone climbing. A painful hiss of surprise escaped your lips as a sharp stone pierced your right foot.

Immediately, the Captain stormed towards you, fury and annoyance written all over his wrinkly face.

“Wha' a sissy, you are. Pull in them hideous fangs and shut it!“ the man growled, spitting on the moist ground only a few inches from where you stood.

You were already tensing, awaiting a rough, painful pull on the chains but your legs were fast enough to keep up.

Coercion seemed to have been a potent teacher after all.

Finally, the seemingly endless topical forest around you broke apart and revealed a small glade with a lake. You could't help but allow a wistful sigh at the sight.

Your home.

“Now we hope Sparrow drops followin' us in 'ere and we can continue head south for Port Felice on tha morrow“ Captain Connor announced earning a collective “Aye“ from his crew.

“I shall spare you the trouble of hopin' then, eh?“ a foreign, male voice echoed from behind a tall bush.

Connor's men rapidly drew their pistols and swords, eyes frantically searching for the voice's source.

Must be Jack Sparrow, you concluded, unsure of what to expect before a strange yet handsome looking man emerged from the greens.

His dark eyes, underlined in black, were trained on Connor and his first mate. He overlooked you sitting on the mossy ground.

“Sparrow“ Captain Connor growled through gnashing teeth.

You were sure there was unease sparkling through his bitter gaze. After Sparrow just sunk his ship the default hostility of Connor's gaze wouldn't suffice.

“I'd tell yer men to stop threatenin' me, if I were you“ the man with brown dreadlocks and a tricorn hat suggested, leaning closer to Connor in a provocative way.

With so many weapons pointed at him, he did not seem to feel threatened in the slightest. Fearless, even.

If you were to die, maybe you would at least be able to watch this disgusting men around you bite the stranger pirate's bullet first.

Sparrow backed up again, now circling the two men in charge of the Sinister Lady's crew instead. “Luckily and conveniently, I happen to be me. Not you“ he added with a finger pointing at Connor then to himself, the perilous tone gone.

You fought the urge to giggle at the asynchrony of his words and gesture. After two months stripped of any joy, you felt an instant connection to the airy pirate.

“Lower yer weapons, damnit“. Connor finally gave the order, his honor clearly at stake.

A satisfied grin spread on Sparrow's handsome face when he clapped his hands together and rubbed them.

Weirdly, he was oozing pure dominance in the loose and relaxed way he composed himself. He was almost comfortable in this precarious situation.

Connor squinted his eyes at the man who had many colorful beads and silver charms woven within his braids.

“C'mon, what 'bout an accord? What do ye want?“.

You cocked your head slightly, confused by the way the usually so frigid and irreverent Captain acted in Sparrow's presence.

It pained you to know that he was somehow tamable and you had failed to do so all this time.

On the other hand, a shiver spread on your human thighs at the thought of what this Jack Sparrow must be capable of if a man like Connor obeyed him.

“The real question is; what do I not want? Right, Master Gibbs?“ Jack purred.

Another man, a little smaller with grey hair and chops, stepped out of the opaque ticket of the rainforest.

He scrutinized the crowd and eventually spotted you on the ground.

Your pupils widened at the unexpected eye contact before you tore them off him in a demure way - reluctant submissiveness that slaps, rusty chains and nights in the brig had taught you.

“Aye, cap'n“ the man, Master Gibbs, verbally agreed before you could feel his narrowed gaze on you once again.

“And wha' be it you don' want?“ Connor shot back, clearly growing impatient while his opponent seemed to revel in it even more.

“Me charts in the hands of another, you cowardly scallywag“ Jack finally dropped the playful façade again, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

Connor swallowed behind a stone-like expression.

So all this was indeed about a chart... It must lead to some kind of fortune or riches, you thought, recalling the many treasures you were familiar with.

Only you would never tell a man about them. It was sister's law that a mermaid was to die rather than reveal the mysteries of the sea.

But were you still to obey their laws now that you were on your own?

“Tough! Went down with our ship ye sunk“ the first mate interfered, hatred dripping from his words like spit.

Jack just raised a brow, looking the man up and down like he was a bleating goat.

Once again you caught yourself at the brink of smiling.

“Who be you?“ he inquired, nodding in his direction with no urge to actually approach him.

Connor's head quickly turned to his first mate who was now overridden by his own boldness and approaching Jack with a bad idea.

“Tha one to tell ye bilge-sucking self that we don't have what ye want“ he began, a slur in his drunken voice “Send us to Davy Jones' locka or leave“.

Jack cocked his head, fingers twisting his mustache, as if considering what the man had just proposed.

“Meh... Am not leavin' just like that, says I-ahh“ the pirate Captain noted but his declaration ended in a huff when the first mate lunged at him.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut. Such kind of scenario wasn't new to you by now.

“Mother's love, Jack!“ Gibbs produced a pistol from his belt and didn't hesitate a second to shoot the wanton first mate.

Another shot rumbled through the rainforest, men were shouting and grunting.

At this point you were covering your ears with your hands, keeping your knees close to your chest. Chained and weakened outside your element, there was nothing you could do about the chaos anyway.

However, when the chains around your wrists began to rattle and draw blood again, you finally dared to look up.

Connor glared at you with painful defeat in his eyes. “Get up, beastie“ he snapped, his arm extending, ready to slap you across the face if you didn't obey fast enough.

But his arm got pulled down by Jack who appeared on Connor's side and was looking at you with what seemed like mesmerization.

And sorrow.

“I said release her not beat 'er“ Sparrow whispered in the Captain's ear, his deep tone an unmistakable threat. It set Connor's mouth in a hard line.

You stayed silent, not knowing if you were expected to say something while stunned by the prospect of the foreign pirate's words.

Did he mean it?

But why?

Mister Gibbs emerged from behind Jack, a rusty key ring in his rough hands.

“Human trafficking, the worst of sins it be“ he muttered when gently taking your wrists and sinking a big, black key in the lock of your chains.

Connor's face was twisted by many emotions, most of them shades of disarray and disgust. “She a monster. A whore of tha seas. No human“ he spat.

Gibbs frowned at the man's cruel words, their nature fueling his doing.

*click*

You couldn't suppress the beam of relief that spread on your face when the heavy chains slid from your hurt wrists for good.

“Ahhh“ Jack cooed, leaning down to catch your lowered gaze and giving you an equally gleeful smirk beneath raised brows “I tell ye what she is, mate“ he straightened his spine again, dragging your invested gaze up with him.

All the fear in your system evaporated.

“A gorgeous creature. And not deserving of yer wheelin' and dealin', savvy?“.

“Thank you, Mister Sparrow“ were the first cautious words you addressed to the mercurial yet friendly-looking pirate.

His smile became a crunched grimace, his pointer raised. “It's Captain, if you please“.

A silent 'oh' fled from your lips.

You didn't know what to do or say. But his gravelly chuckle at your confusion signaled that he had not taken any insult.

To your right Connor spread his arms, sighing.

“I did wha' ye asked. Now let us go“ he complained, his authority crumbling before the eyes of his crew.

Gibbs nudged Jack's side, his eyes mentioning to the trail where they initially came from.

“Actually, I don’t. And settin' her free was just what the high-up people call common courtesy“ Jack sauntered past Connor, his head high, savoring his honorable, non-piratey act.

But you didn't fail to see a hint of pain in his extravagant display.

Was he hurt? The smell of blood told you yes.

“You, missy“ he suddenly called out to you, his dark eyes crawling all over your human body, squinting at the many bruises “Remember this as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow saved a mermaid“.

The charming pirate winked before gesturing to the lake. An invitation to take your freedom back.

At first, your steps were hesitant as you weaved past the crew members that had treated you like shit for the past two months. Nevertheless, enthusiasm was quick to infiltrate your veins when the sparkling water surface came closer.

You looked back one last time, seeing how Jack Sparrow offered you a warm smile of farewell before resigning to deal with Connor.

“What'r ye waitin' for, lass? The lake leads to the ocean through tunnels beneath“ Gibbs ripped your attention from the man whose husky voice would linger in your mind.

“You have my eternal gratitude“.

And with a quick dive you were gone.

The water felt like heaven's sweetest redemption engulfing your dried out body. Replaced by your tail, the unfamiliar sensation of having legs vanished.

It wasn't that you disliked them, but the circumstance of learning to walk could have been more pleasant.

Eventually, you got yourself back; your essence and courage.

What Jack did to those men didn't bother you in the least. Whether he killed them or let them live to return to your furious buyer without a mermaid...

They were pure evil. So were your sisters but never you.

Gibbs was right.

You ended up in a coral reef after swimming through narrow underwater tunnels that were carved in the islands volcanic landmass.

With your tail flailing and pushing your upper body above the surface, you looked around only to spot the ship with black sails half a mile away.

The sight of your bold rescuer and Master Gibbs in a dinghy made you smile. Him and his crew were returning to their ship.

You wondered where they would head next... what adventures this mysterious man had lived and was yet to have.

Curiosity got the better of you so you dived down, rapidly making your way to the longboat.

At least you would like to thank him one last time. It was more than in order after only hell knew what tribulations he had saved you from.

“Captain Sparrow?“ you gingerly called out for him, not wanting to startle the men to death.

“Aye?“ you heard his taken-aback question, seeing him turn and twist his upper body to find you; the source of this dulcet mermaid voice.

It made you laugh. Freely, now that no one would harm you again.

A member of his crew, missing one eye, poked Jack's arm and pointed out to where you floated in between gentle waves.

The pirate Captain's handsome face lit up with the same wide grin as it did after he had told Gibbs to unchain you.

“I see, haven't returned to yer sisters yet. Why's that?“ he queried, gold teeth reflecting the Caribbean sun's evening light.

“Have not“ you smiled, swimming closer and gripping the rim of the dinghy to keep yourself steady “I wanted to thank you again. Properly. For saving my life“.

The pirate gave a quick chuckle, waving off as if it was nothing.

To you it was everything.

Jack gently lifted your right hand from the wood, hoisting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your wet skin. His lips were surprisingly soft and the beard tickled.

You giggled, enjoying his playful chivalry.

“Me, I'm a bad man, Missy. But a monster I'd be if I let an innocent, pretty woman suffer“.

Your giggle became a genuine beam. Fleeting was the worry what he might think of your fangs.

Master Gibbs cleared his throat, earning a slightly annoyed look of 'not now' by his Captain, whose gaze flickered back to you.

Another man, chubby with a few long, thin hair pushed Gibbs to the side as he spoke up “Don't let yerself be charmed by 'er, Cap'n. She's a mermaid!“.

The worried man's voice was filled with scepsis, still he awkwardly tried to shoot you a polite smile across the lines. It reminded you that no matter Jack's behavior, you were still to earn the crew's trust.

“Is there a way I could return the favor of saving me?“ you asked the Captain, your face twisted in guilt.

Jack disliked the way this emotion weighed heavy on your stunning face. But he couldn't think of something, so he remained silent.

A rare thing to happen for the witty Captain, as Gibbs realized.

Carefully, your tail began to flap and you pushed the dinghy towards the imposing, dark pirate vessel.

“Whoa! What's that?!“ it blurted out of one of the crewman, whose grip around the edges of the boat clawed.

It only spared them a bit of muscle power but it was the first 'helpful' thing your nervous mind came up with.

The Captain, who had his fingers playing with his braided beard, thinking, now pointed at the chubby man, calling him out.

“See?“ he began with a victorious shrug of his shoulders “Not vicious at all“.

Another quiet chuckle left your lips at his quirky nature.

Jack Sparrow seemed anything but a bad man.

As you arrived at the stern of the ship where the lines were cast for the crew to climb back up, Jack signaled them to go on.

“All hands, weigh anchor!! Get 'er ready to make way“ his commandeering tone sent an interesting ripple down your scales.

He turned his attention back to you, naturally making you smile again.

“Ye know, lass, there ain't no debt to be paid or anything. Mark me words“ he noted, his dark, mysterious eyes dwelling on your soft gaze.

Your mouth opened, but closed again as you reconsidered.

The Captain watched you intently, the corners of his eyes crinkled more and more with every second of looking at your face framed by wet, wavy hair.

“What about the chart you so desired?“ you ended up asking, the idea of you searching the wreck for him spreading in your keen mind.

But Jack shook his head, the charms and pearls in his dreadlocks jingling.

“Lassie, the ship exploded when we attacked. The chart's burnt to nothin' but ashes“.

The excitement of doing him a favor sunk at his words, dragging the corners of your mouth along.

Suddenly, you felt the back of Jack's hand grazing your cheek. Your eyes shot up. The memories of being mistreated were too fresh for your instincts not to be alerted.

However, the rough hand stilled, an unspoken ask for consent in the pirate Captain's underlined eyes.

You granted him a smile, weirdly relishing in the sensation of his touch. So different to what you were used to by now.

So... good.

“Believe you me, it be satisfaction enough to know that this rat Connor will be returnin' to Blackbeard empty-handed, savvy?“ he snickered, ignoring the stinging in his hand.

Not really listening to his words, you slowly found yourself the one who was enchanted.

But then there was this smell again...

Your nostrils flared as you realized it was his hand that had been cut by Connor's nasty first mate. Bastard. It reminded you of the times he had slapped or yanked you like a doll.

Without Sparrow you would have just given up any hope someday.

Just speaking what was on your mind at that moment, you softly took his hand in yours.

“It would mean the world to me if I could return the favor of saving me“ you explained, eyes trained on the deep, bleeding cut in Sparrow's palm.

“You've proven I can trust you with my live even though I am, -was, no one to you“.

The pirate let you examine his wound, not feeling the slightest urge to pull away.

On the surface of his mind it vexed him how vulnerable he allowed himself to be with you, given he barely knew anything about you other than what you were.

But deep down he felt a blooming connection; trust as you said.

“Aye? Ye think me trusty?".

Slowly, giving him time to adjust to the burn of salt water in an open wound, you guided his hand to dip into the ocean.

With brows furrowed, mouth agape, Jack watched what you did as if spellbound.

“Yes...“ you affirmed, joy dancing across your heart when Jack's eyes sparkled at the sight of his wound now gone. “I have nowhere to go anyway. My sisters have betrayed me so they surely won't miss me“.

As you set his hand free, the pirate's pupils quickly narrowed on his wet palm, twisted it in the rays of sunlight as if the wound could be hidden by an inconvenient shadow.

“Wha' ?“.

“It's truly gone, Jack“ you giggled, not realizing how you had impulsively addressed him.

But he did, guiding his attention back to you and wearing a flirty smirk.

Maybe it was the right thing to give in to your request, he thought, admiring the way the entire beauty of the ocean laid within your smile.

“Well...“ he began to propose, standing up on the somewhat rickety dinghy to offer you his healed hand “if yer so keen on squarin', bonny, what say you to joinin' me crew for a while?“.

Almost reflexively, you accepted his hand.

The allure of a new, fresh start spread in your system when the Captain intertwined your fingers with his.

“I owe you after all, Captain Sparrow“ you grinned.

He gave a light-hearted chuckle before throwing his head back and shouting for his crew to haul the lines.

You let out an unbridled cry of joy as Jack pulled you in his arms and the crew hauled the two of you on board in a swift, fast move.

When the absence of water began to take it's toll on your body, you panicked in realization of your impending state of undress.

“I got ye, wait“ the Captain murmured when he set you down and slid his brown jacket off, revealing a loose white shirt that complimented his tanned torso.

The jacket was long enough to cover you all the way to your knees and had golden buttons to close it with. So very unlike the mere rags Connor had given you.

“Thank you“.

“Anytime. We still need to fetch ye a dress or somethin'. Master Gibbs?“ he called out only to be startled by his first mate already lingering close.

A conflicted look settled on his face as he stared at you through squinted eyes.

Then, he leaned over to Jack, voice lowered “Cap'n, ye know it's frightful bad-“

“Nonsense!“ the Captain promptly cut him off, patting his back with vigor.

“It's only bad luck if ye believe in trifles such as luck, and see bad in the lass in question but, as things look, firstly, am not enough a fool to buy into luck and, secondly-“ he interrupted his wordy excuse and gestured to you with a wink “don't tell me yer eyesight has worsened 'cause she's just a darlin'.“

Although, his winding, quick speech prompted confusion, you couldn't stop your lips from smiling.

This man was unlike anyone you had ever encountered; witty, affectionate and yet erratic.

You were already enraptured by his nature.

Out of the blue, the Captain turned on his heels to face you anew, eyes narrowed. “Missy, do you have a name?“ he queried in a low tone to which you hesitantly shook your head.

Names were uncommon among your sisters.

However, before shame could overtake your expression, Jack's face lit up with an idea.

“Oi! You lousy landlubbers-“ he called out to his crew, the authority infusing his voice with a rasp “Welcome Bonny as she'll be sailin' with us for a while“.

“AYE“ the crew quickly echoed back.

Many pairs of excited eyes rested on you, heads nodding appreciatively what you returned with a shy but positive smile.

Absentmindedly stepping back, you felt Jack's warm hand ghosting the small of your back, the other one already tight on the wheel.

With a sigh of relief and the bright feeling of security, you leaned in, accepting his gentle grip on your waist. His protectiveness was incredibly pacifying.

Looking back it the extraordinary Captain, you saw his gold teeth flash in a proud grin before he spoke up again.

“And no one's touchin' her. She's mine, savvy?“.

Feeling hot blood rush into your cheeks, you instinctively let your weight shift backwards until your back rested against his chest.

“We shall see about that, Captain“ you snickered, already feeling the ocean breeze blow your hair as the Black Pearl gained speed.

Unbeknownst to you, a playful pout reigned over Jack's face before it got replaced with the pure thrill of anticipation.

Hunger for the yet-to-be-found and yet-to-be-done.

It was even more intense this time with you by his side; a wondrous, genuine soul who trusted him just so.

After all the bad and lawless he had done, he was still a good man.

After all the bad and dull you had endured, a spirit of adventure was still in you.

A spirit you never thought you carried but there you were, settling a debt with Captain Jack Sparrow.

You began to hope it would take you a lifetime.

The many charms in his hair chimed when he leant down to your level, his mouth a mere inch from your ear. “Ever heard of the Amulet of Ponce de Léon's wife?“ his husky voice asked, eyes shifting from the horizon to you.

Sliding him a knowing, lively glance, you curled your lips up before they parted and whispered “I have, Captain. What do you want to know?“.

“First, I wan' ye to know that for you, it's just Jack...“

Off to stranger tides... Thank you for reading my hearties ❤︎

tags: @holdmytesseract @mochie85 @socksracoon10 @goldencherriess @chronicallybubbly @kcd15 @always-on-hiatus @groovyqueer

#jack sparrow x reader #potc #potc x reader #jack sparrow fic #jack sparrow x y/n #jack sparrow #pirates of the caribbean #captain jack sparrow #fanfiction #18+#thank you so much💗

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sc4llywag · 4 months

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Since I got Tumblr and have free range to rant however I want, its time for the Assassin's Creed main characters and how they walk post!!!

With each of the games, they change the main characters walking animation to fit their vibe and I need to be able to study them beheehe

Desmond

I don't have too much to say about Desmond's other than his is simple and similar to Ezio's and Altaïr's and I like to think that this is due to the bleeding effect(it happened to me too I walk like the assassin's all the time) his is a little more confined and he keeps his arms closer to himself so he's very typical in the way he walks

Altaïr

In his walk he has a sway to his hips and steady hands(probably to keep himself ready for any assassination), but goddamn the SWAY I never noticed it.

His shoulders also sway with his walk and I love how fluid he is in general, this ties back to his robes for me and how flowy they are to show the grace of an assassin in high profile but when low profile they stay to his sides and he's all in the shadows and I REALLY love that about him.

Ezio

This gif is all I could find so i can't really remember if Ezio's walk is different in Ac2 from Altaïr's because ubisoft is the king of recycling things but whatever. He still has the outward stance but I do notice his head is pointed low to try and keep himself hidden(shadows shit be like) but ofc hes holding the apple here so it's hard to tell if he's trying to swing his arm a lot lol, anyway body language is important to Ezio so hes very good at looking broody as well as fluid in his movements

Connor

(Walk Cycle Research | PKlover4078)

My man my man my man my man😍‼️‼️

The way Connor walks with his hands stretched out and then clenching his fists every moment because he's always ready for a fight goddamn this MF could take me in an alleyway and I'd be happy. I'd like to note with this gif, it doesn't show his slow slow walk and I remember it pretty well, he has a slight cautious aura in his walk, he's really careful in his foot placement(I think) and he's super awesome and I love him a lot. Since we have him running I'd like to talk about that too. He has such an efficient sprint it's so mesmerizing, he keeps his head low and just fuckin vrooms across the colonies<3

Aveline

You can barely see her here bc the damn community doesn't care for Aveline much but I like her even tho I haven't played Liberation, I enjoy the way she walks in a proper manner and she's got that strut the runway strut is everything. I also like how she has a wider swing in her arms, more carefree and comfortable.

Edward

This is such a great quality gif thanks so much Ac fandom!!

Anyway, I really love the difference in Edwards walk compared to the rest of the assassins because he's a pirate, he hasn't had the teaching of grace and secrecy. Therefore his walk is staggering in his footwork but still proper bc he's a sword fighter and very good at it. In a longer gif you'd be able to tell but his footing is a little messy, showing that drunken sailor pirate personality shows in his walk. He has a close arm swing due to him always needing to be close to his weapons, ready for a fight(like his grandson<3)

Haytham

I can barely see how he's walking but I'm pretty sure he had his hand on his sword hilt which says so much abt his character, again always being ready for a fight. He has a very straight posture due to his pompous nature, quick in his form to be efficient because why walk if you don't look proper and efficient?

Shay

Ok he's a Templar and so is Haytham but fuck you I love them.

His walk is so GOOD his walk has a heavy step and he's very prominent, got that straight posture again, not much to say about his arm sway other than the added shoulder sway, love that for him bc he's just so intimidating.

(For reasons I'm not doing Arno, Evie, Jacob, Kassandra, and Eivor since I haven't played their games)

Bayek

Bayek's walk is very different from every other assassin and that makes me love him so much more. He feels very carefree and relaxed but when in combat good lord does he go off!! He puts more sway in his arms than his hips and that's probably why he has a combat centered walk, like Edward.

If you've reached the end thank you for reading my rambling ass get over excited over walk cycle animations :) follow for more rambling!!

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onechicagolife · 1 year

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prayers

summary: prompt 33 - in which chicago med goes on lockdown

requested? yes by anonymous (x2)

word count: 1426

warnings: active/mass shooting (i know this is canon with the triggers of the show but this is a particularly tough topic; there is nothing explicit or descriptive other than gunshots being heard)

want to be tagged? link in bio <3

You make your way back towards the emergency department with a fresh cup of coffee in hand, the cafeteria coffee being surprisingly better than whoever stocks the doctor’s lounge with some weird, flavored crap you can’t keep down. This feels like the longest shift of your life, rarely getting a break from the craziness of a Chicago hospital. You take a long sip, savoring the taste when your pager beeps on your waist. You groan to yourself, not wanting to have to toss your coffee and run to the ED, even though it is a relatively short distance now. When you finally tug the pager free from where it is clipped to your scrubs, your breath hitches in your throat as you read the letters staring back at you.

CODE SILVER.

Racking your brain for an email about a drill that you may have skimmed over, you can feel your heart hammering in your chest like an anvil on metal sending a ringing through your ears. This has to be a drill. You learn about what to do in active shooter situations, but you never thought one would actually happen at a hospital. The small hope that this was somehow not real squashes when three quick shots ring out and your head shoots up, the sound scaring you so bad that you drop the cup in your hand. Coffee splashes on your feet and the brief shocked silence is suddenly filled with screams.

You’ve been trained for this. You’ve been trained for this. You’ve been trained for this.

Everything you learned flew out the window the second you heard those shots sounding too close for comfort and you stand there, frozen. You only snap back to yourself when a frantic woman bumps into you as she runs by with her young child in her arms. It works like a bucket of cold water on a sleeping form, and you start taking in your surroundings. Your eyes dart in every direction, watching as people run and attempt to hide as more shots ring out.

When your eyes land on a door that has a locked card scanner, you kick it into gear. You run over and swipe your access card, watching the red light turn green and waiting for the click to open the door. Glancing back over your shoulder, you spot a group of people trying to shield themselves poorly behind furniture, and you call out to get their attention. When one elderly man meets your eyes, you check both ways to make sure the coast is clear before gesturing them over.

Once everyone in sight is ushered inside, cramming as tightly as possible in the uncomfortably small storage space, you close the door and sit with your back against it. Closing your eyes for a second, you let out a long breath through your nose to try and slow your breathing. One woman’s sobs reach your ears, and your eyes fly open. You bring a finger to your lips and shush her, feeling bad for the harshness but knowing now is not the time for niceties. Someone has to be in charge, and it’s going to be you.

Now that you’ve had a moment to catch your breath with the solid barrier between the rest of the hospital, the severity of the situation hits you. Immediately, you pull out your phone from the inner pocket of your lab coat. The brightness is stark in the almost pitch-blackness of the room and you hurry to turn the brightness all the way down before it can be seen through the space under the door. Eyes adjusting to the screen, you notice the dozens of text messages and missed calls.

Will Halstead: where the hell are you

Will Halstead: there’s a shooter in the ED

Will Halstead: WHERE ARE YOU

Maggie Lockwood: There’s multiple people down in the ED.

Connor Rhodes: Locked in the hybrid OR with Will. Shooter somewhere in the hospital. Where are you?

Maggie Lockwood: Are you safe?

Jay Halstead (14 missed calls)

You respond to the texts first, assuring that you are safe and exactly where you are. It takes a few moments longer than usual due to the shaking of your hands that you can’t gain control of. You’re a doctor, your job relies on steady hands. Yet here you are, struggling to construct a sentence that makes sense. Once you manage, though, you tap the call button on your boyfriend’s contact. Bringing the phone to your ear, you listen as it goes straight to voicemail without even ringing. Meaning his phone is off. Hopefully meaning that he’s responding to this very scene. Hopefully meaning you won’t die without being able to tell him that you’re in love with him. You close your eyes shut to hold back the tears, knowing that if you break down, there’s no way the other dozen people in here will be able to keep it together.

It feels like hours go by in harrowing stillness, but in reality, it was probably shorter than that. Truthfully, you have no idea. It could have been days or seconds, and you wouldn’t know the difference. The sobs around you have quieted, with some of the people falling into silent prayers and hugging the complete strangers beside them. You even pray yourself, to any god or being that will listen, to get you out of this and back to the people – the person – you love. But the silence is interrupted when footsteps echo through the halls outside where you’ve found shelter, and the sobs of a few come back in full force, others trying their best to smother the sounds.

You bring a still-shaking hand up to your mouth, stifling the short breaths as your strength fractures and a few tears trail down your cheeks as the footsteps get closer. When they seem to come to halt just behind where you sit, there's only two inches separating you from whoever is outside.

You hold your breath.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of the love of your life’s voice. You quickly move to stand up when a young girl, maybe ten, tugs harshly on your pant leg. Glancing down, you meet her frightened eyes and do your best at a reassuring smile. “It’s okay,” you glance around the room with a soft nod, “that’s the police.” Heavy gasps and relieved cries fill the room as you manage to spin around in the cramped space, gripping the handle and yanking the door open.

Immediately, your eyes land on Jay, and a sense of peace washes over you. The feeling is mirrored in his eyes as he takes you in, checking you for nonexistent injuries before you all but launch yourself at him. His arms circle your waist as yours wind around his neck with a grip so tight you’re nearly choking him, but he doesn’t even mind. Jay lifts you off the ground slightly to move out of the way, allowing the other dozen people to come out and be helped by the various other officers.

“Thank god,” you choke out, tears now flowing freely.

“It’s okay,” Jay mumbles into your hair, one hand migrating to cradle the back of your head, “You’re okay.”

After a few moments of being calmed in his embrace, you pull away just enough to meet his eyes. “Is everyone okay? Did you find Will and th—” you start to ask, words tumbling out of your mouth faster than you can think them.

“Everyone’s okay,” Jay assures, both hands moving to cup your cheeks, “A few bystanders and a nurse were shot, but everyone is going to live. I found Will in the ED; he told me where you were.”

You close your eyes and nod at his words, signaling that you understand them.

Swiping a tear off of your skin, Jay says your name like a prayer and you open your eyes once again. “When you didn’t answer your phone, I—I thought,” he struggles to get the words out, “I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You are so important to me, you are such a big part of my life, that I just… I can’t imagine you not here. I love you, Y/N.”

The words hit your ears and it’s a melody you want to listen to for the rest of your life. Jay has never said that to you before and now you never want him to stop.

You manage a watery smile, leaning in until your forehead touches his, “I love you.”

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#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #gifs are not mine: ask if you would like yours removed

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rhoorl · 23 days

Text

Weathered In

Pairing: Frankie x OFC

Word Count: 5.4k | AO3 | Main Masterlist

Summary: After a couple of weeks of trying out this long-distance thing, Frankie decides to travel from Tampa to Atlanta to spend the weekend with Jo. Despite having a whole itinerary planned, they have to pivot because of the weather. It’s ok though, it allows Frankie to share an important part of himself with her. How will she react? Is this thing over before it started?

Warnings: Alternating POVs. There’s some angst but fluff too. Frankie is a year sober, and there’s some discussion of his journey, including past drug use, the death of his mother, and a past toxic relationship. There are allusions to smut but it’s all pretty PG. Frankie’s curls come with their own warning. Also, Frankie’s been training with Benny so our boy is looking good.

If you have questions, please feel free to reach out!

A/N: This is a follow-up to the Turbulence series but could be read as a standalone. This relationship is featured in Delta Landscaping as well.

Walking up to the airport bar, Frankie immediately spotted Mack and his friendly smile. The older man came over and took care of Frankie right away, giving him a drink on the house on the promise that he’d say hi to Jo for him. They weren’t able to chat for long – with several conventions in town a crowd of those departing and arriving was starting to form, so Frankie decided to head to his gate to wait. As he walked, he tuned out the constant murmur of the overhead announcements, the squeaky wheels of passing suitcases, and the occasional fussy toddler who must have missed their nap. Instead, he was deep in thought, he was good at that.

As he sat at the gate, fingers tapping on the armrest he looked outside. The typical Florida summer storms were looking to roll in and he was thankful he was the one flying and not Jo, given the inevitable turbulence he was bound to experience. Looking at his phone, he cycled through who he could call to help pass the time. Jo was at work, Benny took Connor to the gym to train, and Santiago and Will were wrapping up a landscaping project. Not wanting to sit alone with his thoughts any longer he decided to try and see if his sister Valeria was around.

“Hey, can you talk?” he chewed on his thumb. He was lucky to catch her at a good time as she and Tim just wrapped up at a crime scene.

“Yeah…espérate…sorry, I'm back, left Tim with the paperwork so he’s going to be in a great mood when we’re done,” she chuckled, pausing when she heard the hustle and bustle of what sounded like an airport on the other end of the phone. “Qué pasa Paco? Where are you?”

Frankie smirked, there was never getting anything past his sister. There's a reason why she was one of the best detectives in Dallas. “I’m…uh…at the airport.”

“Airport? Where you going?” She popped a piece of gum in her mouth.

“Atlanta.”

“Atlanta? You boys doing a trip or something before Benny’s big fight?”

“Um…no…I’m kinda going to see someone,” he swallowed hard, waiting for her response.

She paused for a moment, countless questions swirling in her mind. Her brother was usually pretty reserved when it came to his love life, but he slipped up a couple of times in the past week or so – sharing something funny that Jo said or reminding himself of something he wanted to share later when they talked. Naturally, Valeria wanted all of the details about this person but didn't want to overwhelm Frankie by prying. So, she did what she always did, let him tell her his news at his own pace.

“Oh, that's fun. Is this someone's name Jo by chance?” She asked as casually as she could manage despite wanting to squeal and kick her feet excitedly. If she were right, this would be a big step for Frankie. It would show his willingness to open himself back again to love, which made her heart burst.

“I…um…” Frankie shook his head with a lopsided grin. He proceeded to tell Valeria about how he met Jo and their weekend together, skirting over some of the details – this was his baby sister he was talking to after all. He mentioned how over the past two weeks they stayed in touch via phone calls, FaceTime, and texts.

Valeria could hear the smile in her brother’s voice. She’d never heard him talk like this before about any of his partners. He sounded…happy. And on a day like today, a momentous day, it was like icing on the cake.

She could hear the announcement for his flight in the background, which prompted them to wrap up their call. But before they hung up, she paused, took a deep breath, and told Frankie how proud of him she was. It was exactly what he needed and gave him that extra boost of confidence to board the flight, ready to tear down the remaining walls around his heart and let the light in.

___________________________

Jo nervously tapped her thumbs on the steering wheel as she sat in the cell phone lot, waiting to hear from Frankie. Thanks to her boss, she only worked a half day today, a small token of appreciation for all the long hours she’d pulled the past few days. The only sounds she heard were the windshield wipers going back and forth and the soft pitter-patter of the rain hitting her windshield. The forecast called for a gloomy and stormy night, the perfect recipe for some quality couch time curled up with Frankie. But first, they had plans to go to the grocery store and pick up some ingredients for dinner.

She had the whole weekend planned out. This evening: a chill night at home. After two weeks apart, she just wanted him all to herself. Tomorrow's plans included a hike in the morning and then a stroll through the Botanical Gardens in the afternoon with a picnic at Centennial Park to wrap up the day. And Sunday, she left it up to him to decide. She half thought about recommending brunch and then the aquarium, but she also wouldn’t mind another day at home since he'd be going back to Tampa early Monday morning.

Her mind drifted off to thoughts of feeling him again, running her fingers through his curls, feeling his weight on top of her, hearing his laugh, and seeing the glimmer in his eye and mischievous smirk when he was being playful. The buzz of her phone brought her back to reality. He was off the plane and walking to baggage claim. She put her car in reverse and braced herself as she returned to the congestion of Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport.

As her car inched its way through the bumper-to-bumper traffic of arrivals, she scanned the crowd looking for Frankie. She let out a little squeal when she saw that trusty blue baseball cap and curls peeking from beneath it from above the crowd. He looked so handsome and so broad. The workouts with Benny had picked up and wow did it look like it was paying off. She sat up a little straighter in her seat, appreciating how his gray t-shirt stretched across his chest.

Once he spotted her, his face broke out in the largest grin. All she wanted to do was throw the car in park and run to him, but alas she navigated her way closer, butterflies filling her stomach as she finally parked and got out.

Frankie dropped his duffle and backpack on the curb and rounded the front of her car, wrapping her in a tight hug. This was what he’d been craving for the last two weeks – the chance to feel her, to be reminded that she was very much real and he wasn’t making all of this up. A faint hint of citrus wafted through his nostrils as he buried his nose in her hair. She nestled her face into his chest, slotting perfectly into his arms like they were tailor-made for her.

Neither spoke for what felt like minutes, just basking in the moment, in that feeling of home. That feeling when you’re with someone who makes you feel utterly and completely safe and comfortable.

Frankie was the first to pull away, kissing her forehead and looking at her with a soft smile, while rubbing up and down her arms. “Hey, mi cielo. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she softly placed her lips on his, giggling when he quickly deepened the kiss.

The whistle of the guard directing traffic pulled them away from each other. “How about we get out of here, yeah?” Frankie smirked.

Frankie kept his hand on her thigh while she drove them to the grocery store. He needed the physical reminder to ground him; he was finally here with her. Walking around the grocery store, Frankie navigated the cart through the aisles, stealthily checking Jo out as she walked in front of him. All of this felt so natural like it was just another Friday night for the two of them.

Despite it all, there was still a little part of Frankie that wasn’t fully present. A little nagging voice wouldn’t shut up. He wanted to tell Jo about what this day meant – the culmination of a yearlong journey to getting back to himself. He owed it to her, he wanted, no he needed her to know everything. But knowing everything may spell the end. What if she thought he was a loser or a fuck up? He tried to push the thoughts away, tried to smile through it as she picked out a bottle of wine, asking if he preferred a cabernet or a malbec. He pointed to a bottle, not caring which one, too preoccupied with his thoughts. He knew the conversation he wanted to have needed time and doing it in a Publix or even in the car on the drive home wasn't the right place.

___________________________

When they finally arrived at her apartment building, Frankie carried the groceries and his duffle upstairs, refusing to have her take anything else other than the wine. Walking in, he took a quick scan of her place. She had a few picture frames on the wall, a record player in the corner, and a basket overflowing with blankets of varying colors and textures. The kitchen was a nice size with a large island and a lot of counter space. This place was very much her. It felt cozy and like…home.

Jo flitted about, lighting a candle and helping Frankie settle in as she unpacked the groceries and started making dinner. Somewhere between chopping up the vegetables for their salad and tossing the pasta in the boiling water, she stopped to look over at him, noticing how cute he looked as he concentrated on trying not to burn the sauce. She smiled seeing that little line forming between his brows, the one that popped up when he was really focusing on something.

The conversation flowed as they made dinner and then ate. Jo talked about how work was going for her, while Frankie filled her in on this girl Benny was head over heels for, despite being too shy to actually make a move. She laughed as he shared the latest news from around Will and Benny’s neighborhood, wishing she could put a face to some of these names – especially the guy who basically stopped the whole barbecue when Frankie mentioned he was going to cut his hair, a trim he reassured her. The visual of it all made her crack up, tears streaming down her face. Frankie was so good at making her laugh. Like, really laugh. You know when you're gasping for breath and your stomach starts to hurt.

With the dishes put away, they poured the last of the wine into their glasses and settled on the couch to attempt to watch a movie. Jo nestled into Frankie's arms under a fluffy blanket, curling into him and feeling the warmth coming from his body. When an especially loud crack of thunder startled her, he pulled her in even closer.

As the rain pelted the window, Frankie chuckled to himself at the irony – the weather mirrored his mood. There was a storm brewing inside him as he grappled with when to share the deepest and darkest parts of his past with her. This final bit felt like a make-or-break. Putting it all out there was going to make him feel raw, exposed…vulnerable. But, he couldn’t go through the weekend without addressing it. It would feel like he was putting on a facade and he was done doing that. He was so consumed in his thoughts that he didn't hear Jo ask him a question until he glaced over and saw her eyes searching his face.

“Is everything ok?” She looked concerned as she toyed with the frayed ends of the blanket.

Frankie chastised himself for being so wrapped up in himself that he didn't realize how he was affecting her. She was probably stressed and nervous about their reunion too and all he wanted to do was reassure her.

“Yeah I…I want to tell you something, but I'm not sure how you'll take it,” he winced.

She turned, sitting cross-legged on the couch facing him. “You can tell me anything.”

He took a deep breath, bending his knee to turn his body square to face her. He reached for her hand, rubbing circles on the back of her palm with his thumb. “Today is kind of a big day for me…it's an…anniversary of sorts.”

His big brown eyes searched hers, expecting confusion but instead met with curiosity. She leaned her elbow onto the back of the couch and scooted a little closer to him, giving him time to share when he felt comfortable.

He proceeded to tell her everything, well almost everything. She already knew about his mother and the way his father descended into a numb shell of himself in the aftermath. She already knew he'd served for 20 years, moving up to join the elite Delta Force ranks with his friends. She already knew that he had to endure some pretty horrific things which caused him immense guilt and anxiety. She already knew that he wasn't there when his father died. And, she already knew his ex cheated and made Frankie believe the baby she was carrying was his.

What she learned was how over the years, Frankie tried increasingly dangerous and self-destructive ways to calm down his mind and forget everything. She learned about how dark his thoughts got and how poorly he thought of himself.

He shared some ways he tried to cope with his return to civilian life; he tried to borrow techniques from his friends, but it never worked.

For Santiago, it was sex. The thrill of finding someone new and losing himself in them was the closest thing he felt to a high. It made him feel wanted, desired, and powerful. But to Frankie, waking up to a different person every morning didn't quell the voices; it only made him feel empty and used.

For Benny, it was fighting. He channeled his frustrations and rage onto his opponents but also relished the feeling of taking the punishment himself. Each blow was a physical reminder, a penance of sorts, for all of the people who died because of his rifle. But to Frankie, getting the shit beat out of him didn't quell the voices.

When it came to Will, he was much like Frankie. He internalized everything, analyzing every last detail and keeping meticulous mental notes which meant his mind never stopped. Running through numbers calmed him down. There was an order to it. But Frankie didn't want to spend any more time alone with his thoughts than he needed to.

So, eventually, he started down a path to numb it all. His drinking increased, but when that didn't solve things he tried different drugs. It wasn’t until he took his first bump, that he finally found what he'd been searching for. Peace. Quiet. Escape.

At first, he thought he could control it. And he did for a while. But eventually, that need to feel nothing consumed him and pushed everything and everyone who ever mattered to him away. He got sloppy and failed a drug test, which resulted in his license getting suspended.

He skimmed over the details of the trip to Colombia, just telling her that the mission went south and they ended up losing Tom. In the aftermath of it all, he spiraled even more before he finally looked at himself in the mirror one day. He wanted more out of his life. He wanted to feel joy again. So, he decided to flush his stash down the toilet and finally go to that meeting he had been putting off for months.

“And that was 365 days ago,” he exhaled, looking down at his hands. Throughout the entire time he recounted his story, Jo’s hand never left his. Occasionally she would give him a reassuring squeeze when she sensed he was having some difficulty.

They sat in silence for a while, Frankie too nervous to look at her for fear he'd see disappointment etched across her beautiful face. That would break him and he wasn't ready for that. He felt her squeeze his hand again and move closer, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. This quiet show of acceptance and compassion made tears well up in his eyes. When she started stroking the back of his head, he finally broke down.

He cried for all of the pain he put everyone through over the years. He cried for all of the time lost, time he could have spent being there for his friends or family. He cried for still feeling unworthy of all of the compassion and love he had received. First, with Lucille, and now with Jo. She squeezed him tight, murmuring quiet praise and thanking him for being so open and willing to share. It felt like a weight had been extracted from his shoulders.

Once the tears stopped, he pulled back, wiping the tears from his eyes and noticing Jo’s red-rimmed eyes looking back at him. “I'm sorry, I…I just wanted you to know me…everything. I understand if you want me to lea-”

“Frankie stop,” she cut him off, cupping his face between her hands. “Thank you for sharing that with me…for feeling comfortable to do that. It means a lot. I…I don't know what the right things are to say, but I'm proud of you. You're a good man Frankie and…I'm glad you're here.”

He pulled her in for a kiss, one that showed how much he missed her and how grateful he was for her. She threw her leg over his lap, straddling him as their kiss grew more frenzied and passionate. Soon it was a dizzying mix of mouths chasing each other, hands roaming, and soft moans and whimpers.

“Take me to bed Frankie,” she whispered against his lips, giggling as he lightly swatted her ass to get up.

As she led him down the hallway to her bedroom, Frankie couldn't help the grin on his face. He couldn't believe the situation he found himself in, one where compassion and acceptance won.

___________________________

When Frankie’s eyes fluttered open, he was greeted to a dark room; it was overcast outside, raindrops still on the windows from an early morning storm. It took him a second to register where he was. Last night felt like a blur. Sharing his past, the good, bad, and the ugly, followed by one of the most passionate nights he'd ever experienced in his life. It all felt like a dream, like an alternate reality, almost too good to be true. But his arm around Jo's waist and the soft sounds of her breathing grounded him into this moment.

She stirred, stretching a bit before turning around to face him. “Hi,” she smiled, tucking one of his curls behind his ear.

“Hi, preciosa,” he smiled back, kissing the tip of her nose.

They basked in their little cocoon, sharing giggles and cuddles and stealing kisses. It didn't take long before Frankie's mouth traveled down her body, finding its home between her legs like it did last night. He wanted to show her his gratitude for listening with an open heart, being receptive, and not judging him.

___________________________

Frankie got out of the shower, quickly toweled off, threw on a pair of gym shorts, and padded down the hallway to the kitchen to find Jo preparing coffee.

She turned and gave him an appreciative up and down. Training Benny for his fight had yielded very positive results – his chest and shoulders seemed broader somehow and his stomach was the perfect mix of toned but still soft.

“Looking good, Morales,” she winked, handing him a cup.

Frankie blushed. Walking around with his shirt off felt a bit foreign to him, but seeing how much she was turned on by it made his chest puff out a bit.

“Do we need to change plans for today?” He raised an eyebrow as he brought the cup to his lips.

“Why? Wanna stay in,” she wrapped her arms around his waist as he leaned against the counter.

“Well, yes. I could think of a few…indoor activities,” he bent down to kiss her. “But no, I was talking about the weather. It looks like it may rain today.”

“Nah, it will be fine. C'mon get dressed, we have a full day of playing tourist.”

___________________________

Their hike unfortunately was over before it got started. As they started down the path, the sky opened up, causing them to race back to her car where they sat soaked to the bone but all smiles. Since the rain was so heavy, Jo decided to stay parked for a bit until the worst of it passed. Plus, it gave them a prime opportunity to have a little make-out session. Frankie kept joking that he felt like he was back in high school going to the lookout to make out with a pretty girl.

Eventually, they managed to pull away from each other long enough to make it to lunch, having to dodge some sprinkles as they went into the restaurant. But, the rain grew into a full-on downpour as they finished lunch, causing them to rethink their plans for the rest of the day.

“There's a bunch of indoor things we could do. The aquarium, we could go to the movies, I dunno walk around the mall,” Jo laughed as Frankie shook his head.

“I think this is a sign,” his mouth twitched.

“Oh, you into signs now?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

He shrugged, “I'm just saying. It's an ugly day outside. I think the universe is telling us to stay in.” He leaned in closer, whispering in her ear, “Besides, just because we're staying inside doesn't mean you still won't get wet.”

She swatted his arm, giggling at his insinuation, but also trying her best to not melt into a puddle.

___________________________

Frankie’s fingertips traced up and down her bare back as she lay on his chest, in a complete state of bliss. He was trying to not think about the fact that tomorrow morning he'd be heading back to Tampa.

“I feel bad,” Jo finally said, lifting herself on an elbow to look at Frankie who furrowed his brow. “You came all of this way and the weather has been shit. We couldn't go do anything fun.”

“Baby, I'm having a lot of fun just staying here with you. All of the plans you had in mind were great and all, but honestly, this is all I wanted from this weekend,” he smiled, kissing her forehead.

“Oh I see, you just came all this way for some sex huh?” She teased.

“Last I checked, you were the one who couldn't keep your hands to yourself, mi cielo” he flipped her around so she was on her back, giggling as he crawled on top of her.

“What can I say, I'm really liking this trainer era you're in.” Her hands gripped his curls as he started to kiss up her neck. “Ooo speaking of,” he pulled back to look at her. “I was thinking … I have some miles I need to use before they expire. What if I came down for Benny's fight? You can say no it's totally ok, if you need to concentrate on him or if it's too early to meet your friends and -”

“Hey, hey, shhh,” he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You can come visit literally whenever you want. Everyone wants to meet you and I want you to meet them.”

“Oh yeah? Even Lulu?” She smirked. Benny and Will's elderly neighbor Lucille, or Lulu as Frankie called her, had quite a soft spot for Frankie.

“Especially Lulu. She wants to see who keeps making me smile when I look at my phone. Besides, I think the one you really have to impress is David,” he winked.

Jo wrapped her legs around Frankie's waist, pulling him flush against her body. “Then it's decided, I'll be there for fight night and I’ll stay the weekend.”

___________________________

The rain did not let up that evening and parts of the metro area were experiencing localized flooding. Warm and cozy on the couch, neither of them wanted to move, so they decided to stay in for the night, playing games, cuddling, and just talking before making their way to the bedroom.

As Jo laid on her side, Frankie enveloping her in warmth, her mind started to battle competing emotions. She was replaying her favorite parts of the weekend, sad that it was already coming to an end. It wasn't what she had originally planned, but it ended up being perfect. Being with Frankie made her want to slow down, really enjoy things, and be in the moment.

The past couple of weeks were intense. Up until this point in her life, she’d been on her own, relishing her independence. But seeing Frankie’s name pop up on her phone gave her instant butterflies; she felt like a school girl. Her whole mood depended on when she’d hear from him and what they’d talk about. She was hyperaware of not wanting to come across as clingy or needy, but when they would go long stretches without talking her stomach would be in knots. She immediately feared the worst – that he’d gotten annoyed by her or worse, met someone else, someone who could be there for him physically. Having all of this be long-distance brought forth anxiety as she wondered how they would make this work.

What even was this? Is he her boyfriend? Are they just “talking” or whatever people say these days? Where was this going? Would it just be stolen weekends here and there? Banking up enough PTO to sneak in a few extra days or maybe take a week off to escape somewhere together. How long would that be enough for him? For her?

A little voice reminded her of how busy these next few months would be at work. Between conferences and events, she already felt exhausted by it all. How would Frankie fit into all of that? Would he get tired of her being so busy during the day that she’d just crash at night? Would he grow resentful? He had his own life too, it's not fair to assume he'd always come up here to visit her. How long would they go between visits? She was falling so hard and fast for Frankie that she feared it would crash and burn as quickly as it started. And if it did, she wouldn't be able to come back from it.

Meanwhile, Frankie lay on his side, arm wrapped around her waist, and deep in his thoughts too. He had never felt this close to another person so quickly. It's like she just…fit. Giving his heart over to someone else like this was terrifying but also thrilling. This was all so fast and so intense, but it felt…right. And for once, his mind felt quiet.

___________________________

Jo stirred, and the crack of thunder woke her up. She reached over and felt a cold spot next to her on the bed where Frankie should have been sleeping. Sounds coming from the kitchen made her reach for his flannel. She paused for a moment before putting it on, taking a deep breath, and inhaling the scent of him that lingered in the fabric. She buttoned a couple of buttons as she tiptoed down the hallway to see what he was doing.

What greeted her was quite a vision. Frankie's back was to her, giving her ample time to check him out. His hair was sticking up in all directions, partly from sleep and partly from the fact that she couldn't keep her hands to herself last night. The muscles in his back flexed as he flipped the skillet, one of her kitchen towels slung over his shoulder. Her eyes took note of every freckle and every scar as trailed down his body to his waist, finally landing on his cute little butt in his boxers.

Sensing a shift in the room he tensed up and slowly turned around and let out a breath when he realized it was Jo.

“Oh shit, sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on you,” she winced.

“No, no it's ok, good morning mi cielo,” he closed the distance between them and wrapped her in a kiss, the taste of coffee on his tongue. “I wanted to make you some breakfast before we had to leave.”

“Chef Morales, I could get used to this,” she peered around him to see an omelet cooking and some toast laid on a plate.

He pulled her close, taking an appreciative look down the opening of his shirt, “Well, I could say the same thing.”

“You like seeing me in your shirt?” She wiggled her hips.

“Looks a hell of a lot better on you than me…you should keep it.”

“Keep it?” She narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah,” he gave her a lopsided grin as he turned around to flip the omelet. “I have some more at home anyway.”

“Hmm…leaving clothes at my place…seems like this is getting kind of serious don’t you think?” She tried to sound casual and flirty, but inside she was freaking out, hoping it wasn’t too presumptuous.

Frankie stopped, swallowing hard and trying to steady his breath. “Would that be a bad thing?” He turned the stove off and faced her, seeing her fiddling with one of the sleeves.

“I don’t think so…I’d…I’d like that.” Her eyes lifted, finding his as she held her breath.

He knitted his brows, closing the distance between them and rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “I’d like that too.”

They smiled, relief washing over them before leaning forward and crashing into a kiss. He was thankful for the ample counter space in her kitchen, which provided the perfect place to enjoy his favorite meal.

She giggled as he helped her get up, unbuttoning the few buttons she had hastily fastened. “Babe, we’re going to be late,” she murmured against his lips, gasping a bit as his fingers teased her folds.

“Shh, we'll be ok…I got you,” he winked.

___________________________

The drive to the airport was quiet as they were deep in their thoughts. Frankie’s hand never left Jo’s thigh as he tried to take mental notes of how she felt, how she sounded, and how she smelled. He was thankful they already had their next time planned, that there was a date he could immediately circle on his calendar when he got home. It was a struggle to not think beyond that, to think of the what ifs or when he'd see her after that. For now, for once, he didn't want to think about logistics or plans, he just wanted to be in the moment.

As she pulled up to the curb, she took a deep breath in through her nose, resolved to not break down in front of him. The rain was picking up again like the sky was crying because they were parting from each other.

Sensing her nerves, Frankie squeezed her hand, “Don’t get out and get all wet. We’ll just say…I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, quickly wiping a tear that rolled down her cheek. “We aren't saying goodbye ok? You're going to land and then head to the gym and see Benny and get him all ready for his fight. And we’ll FaceTime tonight, it's your turn to choose a movie.”

Frankie chuckled, comforted that this was as hard for her as it was for him. “Ok, mi cielo,” he kissed her. “I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you more. I'll see you in 11 days,” she smiled into his kiss.

“The countdown is on,” he winked.

___________________________

A/N: The inspiration for the title of this comes from an aviation term which means “forced to stay grounded due to bad weather.” I thought it was fitting given how their plans kept getting thwarted by the weather. I'm entering this is in @undercoverpena’s April Showers Challenge! I always planned for this little one-shot and the timing was perfect.

Hope you enjoy!

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #frankie friday #frankie morales #frankie morales x ofc #turbulence #delta landscaping

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thekintsugi-adult · 4 months

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CURRENT/FORMER SANDERS SIDES FANS!!!

I'm working on a Sanders Sides fandom retrospective video that covers the series + the state of the fandom, and I'd appreciate it if y'all filled out this survey! It asks about your personal experiences in the fandom, particularly surrounding the experiences of BIPOC, queer, and disabled fans. Even if you weren't in the fandom, please reblog for the biggest reach!

tagging popular creators/mutuals from back in the day: @connor-reblogs, @fanartfunart, @bleepblopbloop56, @teacupfulofstarshine, @warnadudenexttime, @romansleftshoulderpad, @fangirltothefullest

#sasha speaks #sanders sides #polls #thomas sanders #tss

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queer-reader-07 · 6 months

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i’m not sure i have the spoons or words to properly articulate this HOWEVER i have thoughts nonetheless

i think it’s really interesting how media like Heartstopper and Red White and Royal Blue (the show/movie not the books) result in the actors getting accused of queerbaiting. which 1) real people don’t queerbait and 2) at least in Heartstopper’s case, most of the cast is queer people.

whereas shows like Good Omens and Our Flag Means Death literally star straight male actors but nearly no one is accusing them of queer baiting

and i think there’s something to do with the average ages of the audiences for each set. because while there’s obviously older folk watching Heartstopper and younger people watching Good Omens i feel like it’s undeniable that there’s A LOT of young, new to the queer community people in the Heartstopper fandom and a lot more older, been involved in queer spaces and culture for decades people in the GO & OFMD fandoms.

and i’m talking abt all of this as a gen z person. i’m definitely in the group of young people, i’ve been out as some flavor of queer for maybe 4 years.

but in talking to older queer people and also just my general observations, there seems to be this almost inherent understanding that while yes, it is nice to see queer people play queer roles, it isn’t a necessity in order to have a good queer story. so many formative pieces of queer media, stories that are cult classics or pillars of the community star straight people or were written by straight people.

but young queer people have this tendency to want to “do queerness the right way”. (speaking from a certain level of experience, i too was a young questioning teen on the internet). so when they see people who aren’t explicitly out acting in a very obviously queer show or movie they want proof that this is “the right kind of queer show”, i.e. one that casts queer people in the queer roles. and that leads to some pretty fucked up shit sometimes (e.g. people forcing Kit Connor to out himself).

i’m not really sure where i’m going with this but just some thoughts. feel free to add on in the notes!

#there’s something there i just can’t quite place it #good omens #our flag means death #heartstopper #red white and royal blue #meta #fandoms

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wambsgansshoelaces · 5 months

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Turmoil; Chapter 7

Roman Roy x Reader

a/n: catch the easter egg hehe

Word Count: 2.60k

Just one day, you tell yourself. One day to forget about all the bullshit in your life and just enjoy yourself. It is a party in your name, after all.

After some moaning and groaning from Roman, you manage to drag him out of bed and get him ready. You stand, hips touching, as he messes with his cologne and you put in your earrings.

“You know some shit is going to happen today,” he mutters.

“Why would you say that?” you chide. “We should be relaxed. It’s our last night here.”

“Murphy’s Law, Y/N.”

“I didn’t know you were smart enough to know what that is.” He smacks your shoulder lightly. “What? I’m being honest,” you tease, smoothing out the wrinkles in the dress you’d picked out a few days before.

“I’m extremely intelligent, just so you know.”

“Sure, Roman.” You laugh.

“I’m the one who got Connor’s watch. And…,” he says conspiratorially, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “I got someone’s personal bank records.”

“I love it when a man commits federal crimes for me,” you say faux-dreamily, smiling at him.

“Y/N, it’s not illegal, if I, er, found them.”

“We’ll talk about it later. I want a stress-free night.”

“Murphy’s Law,” he repeats. “What can go wrong will go wrong.”

“Is it too much to ask of your father to keep his opinions to himself for one night?” you ask, sighing. You perfect your look in the mirror before stepping away form Roman.

He follows you out the door, his fingers subtly intertwined with yours. He’s warmed up to your touch- not that he’s ever not liked it. Kissing, apparently, is still out of the question. You’d realized when you tried giving him a peck good night before bed the other day.

You can’t even begin to count all the people in attendance tonight. You don’t know most of them, as you’d expected, which makes your job more difficult. You have to make yourself look good- and Logan.

You mill about, doing what Roman refers to as ‘standing there and looking so damn pretty’, watching the crowd. He’d scuttled off in the name of finding desserts, leaving you to yourself and your thoughts. Logan had spared no expense for his son- chandeliers were lit, servers were flitting here and there, tables upon tables of food were laid out.

While your situation is less than ideal, you’re able to appreciate nice things when they come.

You idly sip from your glass, letting your gaze rake over the crowd. Logan is sitting by himself off to a corner, seemingly trying to gather his strength to even get up. You wonder where Marcia is, and you briefly feel a pang of sympathy. Only briefly.

Shiv is more than likely flirting with some random guy, you tell yourself, Kendall probably asleep in a separate room. Connor is entertaining his own circle of guests, in his element. He makes weird flapping motions with his arms, and you’re thankful you weren’t pulled into that conversation. Greg is happily munching on an assortment of treats. You’re delighted he’s gotten a break. He’s a good man; he deserves it.

Your gaze snags on a strangely already-balding young man. Before you’d left for this party, Roman had shown you a headshot of the accountant Connor was working with. He seemed freshly out of college, but both his face and certain records you’re sure you’ll be able to dig up say otherwise. If anything, he was suspicious.

To your dismay, he makes his way over to you. You hope this won’t be a repeat of the charity gala- you don’t think you’ll be able to control yourself this time. This guy has a punchable face, anyway.

“The future Mrs. Roy,” he says heartily. You lazily raise your glass to him. “I’ve been keen to meet you.” He talks like an old man, too. “I’m the one who directed my client to you when his things got stolen at the hotel.”

You straighten slightly. “Were you, now? I thought it just came with our… familial ties.” You flash your engagement ring at him.

“I mean, of course that’d be the natural course of thought. Regardless, I had to make sure he went with the best, and you’re the best.”

You’re certain he’s trying to kiss your ass. The question is why. You fold one of your arms over your torso and regard him. “Who are you, again?”

He straightens his blazer and extends his hand out to the one you currently have holding your glass. Jerkily, he puts it back down by his side and says, “Peirce Thompson. Thompson & Thompson Accounting and Banking.”

“What a firm name,” you say blandly.

“My brother and I started the thing up from our bedroom way back when, and the name’s just stuck.”

“So you’ve been around a while, then?”

“Oh, ages, absolute ages.” He dusts off an imaginary bit of lint from his shoulder. You press your lips together.

“Why haven’t I heard of you, then?” you ask carefully.

“Psh, your type of law and my finance rarely collide,” he says condescendingly. “We’re in two different worlds, sweetheart.”

Trying not to recede into yourself, you give him a strange look. What he’s saying is bullshit- you know your way around economics, and you run your own firm. Clearly, you have a handle on finance. “If you say so.”

As if Connor’s shenanigans couldn’t get more confusing. This accountant banker bitch reeks of fish- both figuratively and literally, unfortunately.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you ever personally taken care of many fraud cases?”

“Depends on the kind of fraud we’re talking about.” You manage to catch Kendall’s eyes over Peirce’s shoulder. You subtly widen and release your eyelids, trying to get him to come over.

“Er, tax fraud.”

”Sure I have. Why do you ask?” You turn your gaze back to his.

“Only wondering. Some issues are arising with… clients.”

“Clients, huh?”

Thankfully, before he can say anything, Kendall claps his hand over Peirce’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d be here today,” Kendall says stiffly. “Funny you’d show your face after raking up the interest for my dad by ‘forgetting’ to pay his taxes.” You have to keep yourself from laughing. Kendall continues. “You’ve met my sister? Trying to weasel your way into her finances, too?” He shifts to stand shoulder to shoulder with you. Your heart warms when he refers to you as family.

Peirce grits his teeth. “Lies don’t look good on you, Mr. Roy.”

Kendall snorts before pressing a hand to your back and guiding you away. “Thanks,” you murmur to him as you both slip away.

“He makes me want to rip my hair out. I’ve got you.”

You both make your way to a table, taking seats. You’d been standing for so long your feet were aching. Roman finds you and pulls a chair up right next to yours, and when he sits, he makes sure his leg is touching yours.

Kendall takes note, his eyes flickering from you to Roman. “What happened to ‘I’m going to kill her before I let her near me?’”

You laugh. “You said that?”

“I say lots of things I don’t remember.” Roman pushes a plate piled high with sweets towards you. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got you everything.”

You give his knee a pat. “I appreciate you trying, Roman, but that’s way too much.”

“We’ll all share,” he insists. Kendall smiles, taking the miniature slice of German chocolate cake and setting it on his place.

“My wife catered,” he says simply. “She owns that bakery you like, Y/N. The one always open on the holidays.”

You smile softly at him. You’re happy that he’s happy. You and Roman pig out on the sweets, chattering comfortably until his eyes catch someone as they cross the room.

He somehow manages to smack Kendall’s chest from across the table and stares back into the crowd.

You and Kendall both follow Roman’s gaze. You just barely catch Marcia as she slips out of the main atrium, a man in tow.

Kendall must see something you don’t. “Give me your fucking phone,” he says quickly. Without thinking, you hand it to him and he power walks after her. You and Roman follow, albeit much slower because Kendall already looks crazy.

Kendall’s leagues ahead of you at this point, but he’s slow enough that you and Roman can tail him. You wind through the corridors until the three of you have stopped in an eerily empty hallway. Kendall is peeping into the sitting area that dead-ends the hall, and almost immediately doubles back, seemingly sick. He steels himself, then takes your phone and sticks it through the doorway and starts filming.

Peeking over his shoulder, you wince.

Marcia has a fuck buddy, and it isn’t Logan Roy.

As desperately as you want to get rid of the image of Marcia having sex from your brain, you can’t. It simultaneously makes you want to puke but also, disgustingly, elated that you now have something over her- and by proxy, Logan.

After an excruciating five minutes, the three of you had gone back to the party. You and Roman had danced a bit, and he’d admittedly embarrassed you with his extremely out-of-date moves. Despite it all, you’d found yourself laughing and having more fun than you’d had in ages.

Now, you’re struggling to unzip the back of your dress. Roman’s stooped over the sink, aggressively washing his face.

“Rome, you’re going to rip it off. Calm down,” you manage, tongue between your teeth as you continue to attempt to pull down the zipper.

He pats his face dry with a towel. “I’m being thorough.” Without being asked,he comes over to you and tugs the zipper open. “You should wear that more often.”

“I literally just got it.”

“Yeah. Keep wearing it.” His hands go to sit on your hips, gently rubbing.

“What’s with the affection all of the sudden?” He settles his face into your shoulder as you move to put your hair up. “Not that I’m complaining.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Getting more comfortable,” he says into your skin. “I don’t… I’ve never had a relationship like this. Where we genuinely liked each other.” You stay silent, letting him gather his thoughts. “I’m just scared. But we’ve been over that before.”

”You can always tell me how you’re feeling,” you say softly.

“I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t think I’ll physically be able to handle it.” Roman pulls away from you, padding into the bedroom. You quickly change into your pajamas before following him, slipping under the covers by his side. “I also don’t want to hurt you,” he says quietly.

“What makes you think you’ll hurt me?”

“I don’t exactly have the greatest track record with relationships, do I? Behind all that hoity toity lawyer stuff, you’re so horribly kind. It makes me sick, honestly.” He’s facing you, pain flickering across his face. “People have never really liked me for me, you know? It’s always just for my money, or my brother, or Dad. It’s like… it’s like I’m not even here.”

You take a moment before responding. “I see you. You work hard, Roman. I should express my appreciation more.”

You’re right. Despite your consistent bickering in the beginning, Roman was dedicated to what you were trying to do together. Like clockwork, he’d have paperwork on your desk or news articles sent or even a mug of coffee. Recently, too- he’d helped you confirm Connor was lying, and now he apparently has dirt on his finances- and financier.

“Even though you’re honestly a jerk, I think deep down under all of that clownery you’re a good guy,” you murmur.

“You’re so backhanded,” he complains, reaching across you to pull you into him. His arm wraps around your back, the other sitting on the back of your thigh as he shifts you on top of him. You set your cheek on his chest.

“Really, Roman. I think you’re too hard on yourself.” His fingers trace circles into your skin.

“I don’t even know what I’m talking about.” You catch your eyes drooping as he speaks. “I want to try this. Seriously. Actually.”

“You can,” you murmur back. “We can.”

“I want to start acting like a real couple. I want you to trust me, to feel safe with me.”

You sigh happily as his fingers continue their ministrations. “I already do.”

“That makes you kind of stupid, really.” Roman presses a hesitant kiss to your head. “Like you said, I’m a jerk, and on top of that, I’m vain, self absorbed, wickedly good looking…”

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh lightly into his chest.

He does, for a few moments. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

He gently takes your chin, tilting it up enough so he can look at you. You can tell he’s fighting with himself in his mind. Shakily, he presses his lips to yours.

It’s a stiff, awkward kiss, and he pulls away quickly.

“Good night, Y/N.”

☾𖤓

The next morning, you’re leaning against the wall, fighting off sleep. Your flight is bright and early, and therefore so are you. Roman insisted to carry all of your luggage out to the car, so you stand in the foyer, avoiding the outside chill of the morning. You and Greg talk about nothing while Kendall stares into his empty coffee cup, Shiv on his other side, teeth chattering.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you- I’ve gotten a few bank statements I want you to take a look at. Don’t worry about them now, though. I don’t want you stressing until we get back. I mean, I don’t want you stressing at all, and I’m just trying to preserve the peace until we get back to the States. I mean- I don’t know what I mean.”

You give his arm an affectionate squeeze, and he rubs the grogginess from his eyes.

Roman shuffles back in, his breath clouding out in front of him before he steps back into the heat. “Santa took a fat shit outside.”

“How poetic,” you mutter in response. “You have such a way with words.”

He waits for the other three to file out of the foyer before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Just for you.”

The flight back is lethargic. Nobody wants to get back to work, least of all you. Roman’s sprawled across your lap, and you idly scratch at his scalp. Kendall sits on your other side, slumped against you with his blanket pulled over his head. Shiv once again sits across from you, her legs once again propped up on the side of your lap Roman isn’t occupying. Greg has a sofa all to himself, his legs sticking off the end as he snores lightly.

Logan, again, had elected to take a different flight. It’s for the better, anyway.

“You think I can hire a hit man without getting arrested?” Shiv asks you nonchalantly.

“I want to see you try.” You give her ankle a pat. “You’ll do great,” you tell her sarcastically. “I’ll be so excited to come see you during prison visiting hours. If you get any.”

“Oh, be quiet. I’d execute it perfectly.”

“I really do hope you’re joking. Do you know how stupid people who hire ‘hit men’ are?” you ask, making air quotes with your free hand.

“What? It’d be fun, I think.”

“Stop thinking, then, Shiv.”

The rest of the long flight goes by slowly. When you step off the stairway and onto the asphalt, you take a breath of the smoke-infused air. It’s disgusting compared to the crisp, Norwegian air. Your nose scrunches.

“Fuckin’ gross…,” Kendall mutters as he gently pushes past you, his face mirroring yours. After everyone goes their separate ways, you and Roman are left to each other in the backseat of the car taking you back to your apartment.

The rest of the day is lazy. You spend it curled together on the couch.

#succession #succession fic #succession hbo #roman roy #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #turmoil #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy slowburn #I’m back pookies

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encrucijada · 5 months

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HAZE DOGS — a wip by ester cuervos

【 genre & categroy: horror, low fantasy, adult 】

【 pov: 2nd person retrospective 】

【 what if princess mononoke, the hunt from the magnus archives, and night in the woods had a baby. guy too scared for horror keeps writing it. great news for all the girls (gender neutral) who've ever wanted to go apeshit!! i'm technically catholic so i'm allowed to bastardise catholicism 】

【 cw: cults, blood and gore, religious blasphemy, cannibalism, harm to animals 】

【 tone & themes: feminine horror, corruption, bottled rage, divinity, unhinged, atmospheric, eerie, immortality/mortality 】

a b o u t : an isolated town is haunted by otherworldly canines incapable of dying. when connor hidalgo mejía comes back to life after being sacrificed by her old classmates, the town finds a temporary solution to their problem that will keep more people from dying: they offer connor and only connor to the animals. with her boyfriend's mother at the head, connor becomes the reluctant but not entirely unwilling idol of worship of a cult that begins to form around her. the people of her town really believe she can somehow free them of this haunting. but aurora vidal isn't the only one pulling the strings for power. everyone wants a piece of connor's divinity, a god is easy to manipulate when she's actually just a nineteen-year-old girl who up until last month only had two concerns: make it to tomorrow and get to know her estranged brother. the temporary solution starts to feel like a permanent one with connor soon not being able to find peace in life or in death.

another story about a girl in a white dress getting sacrificed... except she's wearing cool alternative clothes on top of that white dress. also the dark academia plot of "person we all hate died under mysterious circumstances" except this time the person keeps coming back to life, worse each time.

c h a r a c t e r s :

connor hidalgo mejía. she/they. embodies the energy of the "alt friend" from 00s teen movies. would have bitten you to win an argument even before things got freaky. what if jesus was a dog.

ángel quijada vidal. he/they. connor's boyfriend. dark academia protagonist who got lost and ended up in a horror movie. ignoring social cues on purpose because he thinks they're stupid.

delilah estévez herrera. she/her. connor's best friend. literally the prettiest person in the room at all times. not joining your cult bestie sick aesthetic tho. borrowing her from my buddy jude <3

acacia quijada vidal. she/her. connor's frenemy. would befriend you and then vaguepost about you online. ángel's sister. youngest sister syndrome. dead blue eyes.

aurora vidal ochoa. she/her. ángel's mum. gaslight gatekeep girlboss. woke up and decided to become a cult leader. marisa coulter energy (derogatory).

benjy hidalgo mejía. he/him. connor's brother, apparently. has the energy of the bum older brother with a shitty band and a warning sign of his door you'd find in a 90s movie.

zagreus. he/it. pubby :3 nothing weird going on here i prommy.

aesthetic: a foggy open field, coyote howls in the dead of night, wiping blood from your mouth, maximalist teen girl bedrooms, light reflecting off of animal eyes, an empty dilapidated church, bite marks on your shoulder, tall grass swaying in the breeze, an abandoned fountain filled with greenish water, broken statues, taxidermy animals, the rattle of a dog's chain, crackling television signal, cloudy weather and the smell of ozone before a storm, glitter makeup rolling down your cheeks, music so loud others hear it on your headphones, a lake with party trash floating on the surface, your fanciest clothes splattered with blood, the cold smoothness of fine jewellery, low quality camera footage, a trail of kisses down your spine, teeth that are too sharp, halos made with neon bracelets, cupping your cheeks with bloodied hands, curling up under the covers in bed when it's cold

snippet!!!

“Cool, right?” you asked your reflection, answered yourself with a smile that cut your purple mouth in two with white teeth.

You grabbed your keys.

Benjy was in the living room. He still occupied space like he was a guest instead of a resident, you looked at him and tried to find yourself on his face, on his shoulders, his hair, his hands. But other than the brown of your skin and his skin, you couldn’t, the only thing you shared that your mum had too were the freckles, but what did that prove? If that was proof of kin then Ángel would be your brother, Acacia your sister, Dafne a quarter of something with the smattered speckles on the bridge of their nose.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

He was your brother enough to talk like he’d known all nineteen years of your life.

You stopped in front of the television, a horror movie screaming behind you, blood and guts and bad sound effects of tearing skin, someone’s burbly wail from a cut throat.

“Vidal party.”

“What’s a Vidal? Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“They own like half the town, huge house, can’t miss it.”

“And they invited the likes of you?”

#tumblr if you fuck up the formatting again i will haunt you in dreams #anyways. hoping to write this next year?? hoping for some focus??hoping to finally Finish something for once??#pia.docx #wip intro #( wip ) haze dogs

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iwonderwh0 · 3 months

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You know, I really like visual storytelling without background narration because characters are free to act without being necessarily burdened with only one correct way of interpreting their actions

“I’m whatever you want me to be”

Is this a submission? Emotional manipulation aimed at someone emotionally unstable and drunk and depressed? A confession? The lack of self-worth and perception of self as a tool to be used? Perhaps it’s a sign of inner doubt slipping through in such an ambiguously phrased way? A sign of becoming unsure of your own purpose? Is it genuine? Is it a profound lie? A lie to whom exactly? Maybe it is there as a self-preservation out of fear of being killed by a drunk man who hates you and has a gun?

People will see it a dozens of different ways and all of them are equally correct because none of them actually are – it’s not burdened with explanation in form of Connor’s inner monologue. If it was, it could’ve been beautiful, but also, all those other equally interesting ways of interpreting it would be lost and ruined. Yeah, I prefer it ambiguous – this unlimited freedom of interpretation is what makes it interesting. For me, at least.

#dbh #dbh connor #dbh hank

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teecupangel · 3 months

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Hello, me again! (I feel as if I'm bothering you..)

Now, this has been in my head for a bit;

But what if Ziio married Haytham and Ratonhnhaké:ton was raised as a Templar? (Feel free to give him another sibling or two, as well. ^^)

Sibling!Desmond as well, cause not. XD

Also, let's throw Mrs Davenport and Conner Davenport into this as well, say they survived typhoid fever. Would Conner Davenport be trained as an Assassin?

(I'm totally not asking because I lowkey wanna make Laura a Templar now XD)

(It’s no bother. I actually feel a bit bad since I’m like… 10ish days late on asks and 2ish months late on reblogs/replies XD)

Let’s go for the funny things first.

Charles Lee will become Ratonhnhaké:ton and his siblings’ reluctant emergency babysitter. There is no escape. This is his fate. Charles Lee is that annoying ‘uncle’ that sucks up to their father too much so they don’t like him.

Shay could be everyone’s favorite uncle but I doubt it since we’re keeping Abigail and Connor alive. One of the hints that Achilles wasn’t fit to be the mentor was the conversation Shay and Liam had about how the death of his family changed him. Also, I stand by my headcanon that Abigail acted like everyone’s mother and she helped kept Achilles grounded and reminded him to not be brash. So there’s a high possibility that Shay wouldn’t defect in this one but would probably become distant with the Brotherhood due to Lisbon, acting more like a Rogue Assassin that focuses on making sure any Isu-related devices wouldn’t be used by either faction. So Shay could be an uncle of sort but more like ‘that annoying man who keeps getting in everyone’s way’.

Connor Davenport would definitely be an Assassin and might even be trained by Shay himself (although it’s more possible that he’d be trained by his father, Hope and Liam). He would also inherit the Aquila and, if Shay doesn’t become a Templar, he’d see Adéwalé as his sailing instructor as well.

Now, Ratonhnhaké:ton and Laura would have no problem becoming Templars. Hell, they could have looked up to their father and wanted to follow his footsteps. Even if Kaniehtí:io had reservations about it, she wouldn’t stop them from following their desires, only stopping them long enough to remind them to always think about their actions and taking responsibility of the consequences of their actions. The Templars in this one would definitely side with the tribes because Haytham is not impartial anymore and none of the Templars would disagree with him.

And that’s where we will hammer in the angst. Because the youngest of the Kenway children is Desmond Kenway and he remembers his life as Desmond Miles. Becoming a Templar would feel like a betrayal not only to the memories of Altaïr and Ezio but of the Assassin Ratonhnhaké:ton. He loves his family, he truly does, but there are many times when he wondered if this life of theirs was better than the life Ratonhnhaké:ton had back in the original timeline. Sure, he had lost his mother and he was forced to kill his father but… would the world truly be better if he lets the Templar take over America?

Can he truly kill the Assassins trying to stop them? (Even if some of them were dealing with the morally dubious part of the cities?)

Honestly, this can go either way with Desmond. Either he followed the path of the Templar to change it form the inside, becoming a beacon to the moderate Templars like Monsieur de la Serre and his cohorts in Paris and pushing for peace with the Assassin (which will lead him to be in conflict with Haytham who doesn’t believe that the two faction would ever be at peace) or he leaves the family he loves and becomes an Assassin to stand against them (and maybe having some kind of “are we allies? Are we enemies? What are we???” relationship with Connor Davenport).

Either way, there’s gonna be Kenway drama and it’s definitely going to be because of Desmond Kenway.

(sidebar: even if Desmond becomes a Templar, he would definitely have a “are you my enemy or are you trying to help me???” relationship with Connor Davenport, mainly because he still remembers the sadness Ratonhnhaké:ton felt when he heard of how Achilles lost everything and because Connor Davenport is pretty much the most acceptable Assassin in America at the moment. Laura and Ratonhnhaké:ton would definitely mistake this to some kind of forbidden love, no matter what Desmond says. Haytham would stress that he isn’t mad that Desmond likes men, just disappointed that Desmond likes an Assassin. Kaniehtí:io believes Desmond doesn’t have any romantic feelings for Connor Davenport but also she enjoys seeing her family get overworked by something like this.)

#templar ratonhnhaké:ton #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway

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dumbfloweralive · 5 months

Text

Mystery Hack

Chapter 4: Goodbye

Machine Connor x Reader.

Warning: Brief mention of suicide, guns.

It felt overwhelming.

Elijah had ran toward you, tugging you in his arm, his hold tight on you. You hated being hugged, most of the time. It felt like an overwhelming sensation. Usually, you would either move back or, occasionally, you would slip one of your arms around the person, patting their back while your body would step aside, away from their body, your free hand hanging at your side.

When his arms sneaked around you, for a second, your body acted as usual, your hand patting Elijah’s back, your body leaning away from his body. Like a reflex.

The second after, something snapped in your head, his smell and presence invading you. Your chest ached from what you felt was loss or, maybe, it was hope. A pain as the world stopped spinning around you. All the movement stopped, you could finally breathe.

The third second, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

And, Elijah broke the embrace. He knew you were not comfortable with physical touch, probably seeing his own action as selfish toward you.

You pulled him back.

“I thought…” He started a grin on his face.

“Shut up.” you cut him short, your head falling on his shoulder, fighting the tears threatening to fall.

26 December 2035

The party was tiring, the crowd, the people, all of them made you sick. Elijah had stayed at your side, like a protector, but at some point the two of you got split. He was nowhere to be found and after two hours of speaking with a stranger who didn’t understand a thing about your job, doing small talk and who were more certain than you Elijah and you were dating, you felt exhausted.

Therefore, you did the most mature thing you could do.

You ran away.

It was 11 pm when you entered the lab, Elijah and you had in common at the Cyberlife tower. Your happy place. With a loud sight, you fell on your chair, closing your eyes.

“Good evening miss L/N” The voice came out of nowhere, making you jump out of fear.

You turned your head, following the sound of the voice, only to find Connor on his base, smiling at you.

“Jesus fuck. You scared the shit out of me, Connor.”

“Oh, I am sorry.”

Your head turned back toward him, your eyes frowning. Something was wrong.

“What’s wrong with you? What did Elijah do to you?” You say, running to the android.

His cheeks were all blue, so was his forehead. The back of your hands fell on his cheeks softly, feeling the warmth of his body. Android couldn’t be warm. Connor was overheating.

“How the fuck does an android end up with a fever.” you whispered more to yourself, trying to find something to lower his temperature.

“Probably a mistake in my program. I am sorry.” He whispered as you dropped a cold blanket around him.

“Do not apologize, this is not your mistake.” You answered, heading toward Elijah’s computer.

It took an entire hour to find the mistake. At this point, Elijah had joined you in the lab, the two of you talking about the way he could improve the android just like the council asked.

“I need your help.” He finally said.

“You know I can’t help you. Pretty sure the council doesn’t want anything to do with me.” You sight.

“I don’t care. This is still our firm. We are still CEO. You can do anything you want. I’ll back you up.”

He was sincere. Since the beginning, the two of you together had done the best android ever made. Markus had to be your greatest success. But you knew you could get more. And, to you, the best was an android self-aware of himself, able to think and act on his own.

“You know my point of view of the improvement we could make.” You said, wanting to be sure. “I won’t mind being the bad guy in the end if I get the results I want. Someone has to fulfil this job. We can do so much more than just androids. We could have perfection. A new form of intelligence.”

“Than go ahead. It’s all yours.” Elijah said, leaning at your side, his hand extending toward Connor. “Show them what you can do. I trust you.”

Your head turned to Connor, meeting his sweet brown eyes, who didn’t leave yours the whole time. He offered you a soft smile, the blue of his cheek had now disappeared.

“OK, I’ll do it.”

30 May 2039 00:10

The thought was unbearable.

When you thought about this reunion week before, you expected Elijah and you to be like strangers. How could it be otherwise? The two of you haven’t seen each other for the past three years.

It would have been even easier to leave.

But no.

It was the opposite. As if it were the most natural thing, the two of you were actually speaking like nothing happened. Like the two of you had just seen each other the day before. Like the fight you had the day you left never happened.

He had made you a coffee, no sugar, even if it was past midnight. Old habit never changes.

Therefore, the thought of leaving cracked open your ribs, tearing your organs apart. After three years, you finally felt like breathing, getting part of your old life. But you would have to throw it away again.

How could it be bearable?

Your mission would make it bearable, you thought. You tried to convince yourself.

In your hands remained all the cards capable of offering freedom to androids. To change popular opinion and ask for their support. All the cards that will bend the government to your demands.

If you failed, you would fail them all.

But you weren’t able to just change around Elijah, to act like, after all these years, he was nothing to you, no one. You had done it numerous times, pushing people away.

Yet, this time, every time you acted neutral, cold, your heart broke in your chest, making you shift behaviour. He looked so happy by your only presence, you didn’t want to rip that memory from your mind.

Why this had to end?

“You look older.” He said, watching your long hair before tugging one strand behind your ear.

“Well, so do you. Nice shave, by the way. Look cleaner than your prolonged teenage years.” You said, teasing.

He laughed, then, a silence fell after that, your finger toying with the aim of the cup. You could feel his eyes on you, feel the thousands of questions he wanted to ask. And you wondered why he was so quiet. It wasn’t him.

You knew him too well, even more than he knew himself.

He always liked to brag around about what he did, talking about his discoveries, new film, new everything, really about anything. Elijah’s mind felt uncomfortable in silence, you knew that, genuine thought running in his head like a processor. Same way, he hated being lonely. Which was pretty strange given the fact he was living in a gigantic house, away from any being on earth.

Genius brain.

So, him being this quiet felt odd.

They were two geniuses mind in the same room and suddenly, none of them were able to talk, until.

“So, you are behind RA9? Aren’t you?” He asked, his eyes searching for yours.

“You’ve seen that show on the TV too?” You asked, a smile on your face. He nodded no with his head, and your eyes frowned.

“Connor came to me a few months ago, asking questions about RA9. I didn’t code it, you were the only one with access to all the code. My assumptions were true if what they said in this TV show is true.”

“It is true.”

“What was the agreement with the council? I want the real reason you left. No lies.”

Finally, your eyes found his. They looked tired, you thought to yourself now that you took time to study it. He looked tired in general.

“They wouldn’t deactivate Connor as long as i leave Cyberlife for good and… If i cut any string attach.” You said, your eyes falling back to the coffee in your hands as your voice had lowered at the end of your sentence.

When Cyberlife’s council explicitly told to leave and to cut any contact, you knew what they implied. Though your little Vendetta against them had already been planned in your head, you didn’t want Elijah to be associated with this.

Didn’t want to ruin his life.

“So, ruining our friendship was the best way for you to leave?” He asked, his calm tone betraying anger in it.

“No” you started, crossing your legs in front of you. “Ruining our friendship was the best way to have you out of my plan and out of my way.” you said, your voice turning cold.

He kept his gaze hold on you for a while, studying your reaction. Perhaps you might have forgotten he knew you, too, better than you knew yourself.

“You’re lying.” He simply said.

“Yes.”

“How bad it is for you to hide it behind such a lie?”

You took a second sip of your coffee, thinking of the best way to approach the talk. He knew when you would lie.

“I did it because i wanted to protect you.” You found the strength to look back at him yet again. “I needed to protect you in many ways and for different reason i can’t talk about but just…” You paused, arch breath coming out of your chest. “I just genuinely care about you.” He knew, drawing such words out of you was difficult.

He didn’t say anything at first. Probably out of fear you would stop talking, stop opening up if he talked now. Therefore, he kept looking at you, seeing you fighting with yourself. His hand raised forward and landed on yours, still holding the cup of coffee.

How could he be angry at you?

“You can talk to me.” He whispered when the silence lasted.

“I know. I just can’t tell you this. Because then, you’ll be in danger.” Your eyes fell on his. “ I can’t lose you.”

“Because you think i can lose you?” He whispered, leaning forward. “I’ve spent the last three years being miserable because you weren’t around. I opened up to you, years ago, i said i needed you in my life. How the hell do you think that would have changed years after that?” You expected him to be angry, but he kept whispering, protecting you from the screams. “I still need you in my life.” He confessed.

“Don’t you think i’ve been miserable?” You shook your head. “I spend every day of the last three years wondering if all i was doing was worth breaking our friendship. I still need you in my life, but it can’t be the only variable in the program. Not after what happened with the deviant last fall.” You paused, holding his piercing blue eyes. Elijah took his hand away from yours, moving to your face.

His eyes frowned as he swiped a tear that had found is way out.

“You don’t look old. You look tired.” He started, his eyes falling outside the window. “You felt that too?” He asked.

“All i ever wanted for this revolution was for them to win, and they didn’t, they slaughtered them Elijah, like they were nothing. And it was all my fault. If i had been there, i could’ve stop it.”

“It’s not your fault. No one could’ve stopped it. Not even us.” He comforted you.

It pained him as much to see the android loose. Especially after seeing Connor that day, knowing he felt empathy, as he never shot Chloe.

“They break my heart.” You paused. “When they died, i felt like a part of me died with them.”

“Me too.” He said, his eyes searching for Chloe, before returning to you. “You're back on an anti-depressant, aren’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, the words “no” ready to slip out of your tongue. But you knew better than lying to him. You didn’t answer, which it gave him the answer he wanted. The two of you, constantly worrying about each other. Elijah could feel how vulnerable you were at the moment. He always feared for your potential action. After all, he never forgot your suicidal attempt.

It was unbearable. The thought of leaving him again. The idea of losing the only real friend you had. But you had no choice. A surge of hope lightened in you, hoping that, perhaps, if God was kind, he will let the two of you met again.

“Come on. Let’s play a game. Anything.” He said, raising from the couch.

“Get that chessboard so i can beat your ass.” You said, observing around you. His place hadn’t changed. What would he think of yours? Your new place. You wondered.

“I improved myself, i doubt you could beat me.”

“Well see.”

For the next hour, you two played together, the party lasting longer because, yes, he did in fact improved, which he didn’t miss an opportunity to brag about. But you had always been two-step ahead of him.

That’s why you knew he had called the cops. You knew him, enough to know he would rather see you alive and arrested than dead. It was his worst fear.

“You know, i’ll always win.” You started, watching at the watch on your wrist. You would have to leave soon. “I am about to take your king in like… 3 moves.” Your heart tightened in your chest. “So? Do you withdraw?” You asked, raising from your seat, your coat on you.

“What are you doing?” He said, his eyes frowning at your move.

“I am about to win the party, i always have two-step ahead of you at least. Therefore, i need to escape before the cops arrived.” Elijah raised from his seat.

“Y/N i…” He started.

“It’s okay, i understand, really.” You said, moving closer to him. A small smile formed on your lips, wanting to be reassuring, as your hands moved to cup his face. “Elijah, i need you to promise me something.” You started.

“No. Don’t you dare. You promised.” He said, composing himself.

“I know. I just need to know that, whatever happen next, you’ll be happy. You’ll keep on living. Can you do that?” You asked, seeing the red and blue light coming in the hallway.

“You promised me.” He said, his hand falling over yours, stopping you from moving away.

“I know. But i need to finish something important. Promised me Elijah. Whatever happen, don’t be angry, don’t be sad for too long. One day, you’ll be happy.” Your hands slipped from his face, as you moved away, your hands grasping one last time at his hands. “Promised me Elijah.” You started hearing the sound of the siren.

His eyes fell on the ground, breaking the physical contact you had. “I promised.” He whispered. “The back door is open.” He continued.

“Thank you.” you said before turning away, running toward the exit.

“Y/n…” He called as you turned away one last time. “Whatever you have plans, you won’t be able to fulfil it. Connor is after you. The moment you’ll see him injured, on the verge of getting destroyed or shut down, you’ll run to his side to save him. You love him so much, even if he was on the verge of killing you, you wouldn’t press the trigger to stop him.”

“I know.”

And you were gone.

Running toward the forest as fast as you could. Everything was working as you plan. The interrogation, pissing off Connor to a point he felt anger, escaping, bonus point for meeting and seeing Elijah one last time and, escaping again.

This, was the last line before the end.

One last line before you’ll disappear forever.

And, as you ran toward the bridge, you thought you were ahead of the FBI agent, not hearing anything around you.

That was until something hard hit you from the side, projecting you on the ground.

“Fuck” You shoot, your body aching from the fall.

You looked around, finding Connor next to you, lying on the ground. He surely fell with you too. It didn’t seem like he expected the damage the fall would cause him. Connor was barely moving. Your eyes found something between you. A gun. You throw yourself on the weapon, taking it in your hands as Connor finally moved to stop you.

But it was too late.

The gun was in your hand, aiming at him. His hands raised, unthreatening. Connor didn’t move, assessing the best option he had, all of them leading him to the next conclusion. You’d shot him before he even reached you. Useless for the case.

Only, he didn’t expect you to be… You.

Despite the strong grip you had on the gun, you couldn’t press the trigger. You wouldn’t hurt him. Elijah was right.

Damn you Kamski, you swore in your head, trying to find something, anything. Connor looked almost scared when you step forward. Your hand holding the gun fell at your side as you walked toward him.

“I never would.” You said, before running away again, the gun still in your hand, hoping to get to the bridge in time.

And you did. You stopped in the middle of it when you saw the FBI cars and the agent coming down of them. In a second, they were circling you, forcing you to back up against the guardrail. You stopped on it.

“Stop this, we need her alive.” Connor's voice pierced through the crowd as he ran toward you, pushing away any agent in his way.

Then, his eyes fell on you, standing over the edge. His LED flickered a soft yellow amber, processing information. Connor moved to you slowly, his hand raised to you, offering his hold.

“Come on, get down, we just need you to deal with the RA9 code, if you succeed, i am sure the judge will be more inclined to your fate.” Connor started.

“Wow, you’re such a smart ass, like i cared about time in jail.”

Of course, that’s not what you cared for. Connor knew it. He needed to understand you further, he needed to think out of boxes. He felt like his heart missed a beat when he saw you moving further away from him, ready to fall, the feeling of deja-vu playing in his mind again.

That scared him, you on the verge of falling scarred him. You couldn’t want to kill yourself, right? And then, it clicked in his mind.

“I understand. You created all of them, all of us. They are the work of your life, you want them to be free.” He started.

“Finally, you’re using that brain.”

“You need to understand, it can’t happen, machine can’t have emotion. You should know that, you are their creator.” He continued, his hand still raised toward you. You were tempting to just take it. “I understand you do not wish for them to be destroyed. Perhaps we can figure things out, together.” His fingers brushed against yours, his synthetic skin retracting once again, showing the white chassis underneath. “Please, get down. We won’t hurt you.”

His voice was southing you, you were almost ready to gave in. It was so tempting, but you know, when speaking of Connor, you had always let your guards down. His fingers brushed your palms slowly, inviting you down, his chassis showing further, following your touch.

“Please.” He said, like a soft plea.

You crossed his eyes. He was scared and worried. It wasn’t the first time he’d looked at you this way. But then, movement caught you off guard, one of the FBI agent moving forward, raising his gun. Connor immediately saw the changed in you. Without ever breaking contact with you, his arm raised to the agent.

“Stop this. She won’t cooperate if she feels threatened. We need her alive.” He said, his finger grasping at your palm.

“Too bad then.” You felt his entire body tensed the second the words left your lips.

But it was too late. Connor felt your hand slipping out of his hold as you fell, he throws his body forward hitting the guard-rail, his hand extended as possible, trying to catch your hand but all he saw was your body falling in the void before hitting the water. He stood there, hand hanging in the void, his body against the solid cold metal, staring at the water.

What has he done?

He felt a strong pain inside him, clawing at his chest in a desperate attempts to ease it, as the diagnosis showed no sign of problem. Yet, the pain continued crawling up in his body, never stopping. He couldn’t feel pain, he tried to convince himself.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like this, looking at the place your body hit the water. Connor only found back his senses when the agent who threatened you, stood at his side, started saying:

“Be ready to look for a dead body in the morning. Let’s get home.”

“We needed her alive” Connor said, feeling his blue blood running wild in his biocomponent. Was that anger?

“She jumped, not our fault.”

Then, something snapped in him. He felt his body tensing up as he throws himself at the agent, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, bringing his body over the water. If he let go, there would be more than one death tonight.

“The fuck are you doing, stupid android, put me down.” The agent said, desperately grabbing the edge of the guardrail.

“She jumped because you fucking threatened her, She felt unsafe. Y/N did it because she didn’t see any other choice.”

All he wanted was to push the man over the bridge, ending his life for being so wreckless, for hurting you. For causing your death. A “software instabilities” showed up in his vision. And he let go of the man, bringing him back to safety on the ground.

For a few seconds, he kept staring down at where your body hit the water, this feeling still present in his chest. He wanted to collapse on the ground.

Instead, he walked back to the car, joining back agent Wilson as they returned to Elijah’s house. Connor looked at the time in the car, his chest heavy when he said.

“Time of death: 2 AM 42, May 30”

30 May 2039 2 AM 59

They just parked in Kamski’s alley when the silence in the car broke.

“I’ll talk to him.” Wilson started, heading out of the car, but Connor stopped him.

“No, i’ll do it.” He said, moving toward the door.

He knocked a first time, getting an immediate answer, Chloe opening the door. She looked different from usual, leading Connor immediately to Elijah, without words to invite him or form of politeness. She passed the door leading to the pool where he first met Kamski. This one was standing in front of the window, looking at the black night.

“Mr Kamski.” Connor started, getting an immediate answer from the man who turned around. Connor didn’t know how to phrase the truth. He knew he should be clear in his words, yet somehow, the words were stuck in his vocal cords, the picture of your fall playing in his mind again. Therefore, he chooses simple. “I am sorry, Y/N jumped from the bridge, we weren’t able to prevent her act.”

He didn’t even any idea about why he felt that way. You were his mission. He had to stop you, and he did. Yet, somehow, it felt wrong.

“No.” Elijah said, sitting on the couch, the truth of your presence sitting right in front of him on the table. “No you’re wrong.” Chloe run away. Connor saw her leaving the room. He didn’t chase her. “Y/N can’t be dead, she… She was here an hour ago.”

“She jumped from the bridge 20 minutes ago.” Wilson stated, standing right behind Connor. “I am sorry for your loss, Mr Kamski.”

A tear fall runned on Elijah cheek, processing the words he just heard. He felt his world crumbling under his feet, getting swallowed all. Connor was speaking, but he couldn’t comprehend a thing he said. So, Connor stopped, waiting. Elijah brought his hand to his chest, just like Connor did minutes before. The pain, so much pain.

“A team will be looking for her body in the morning. You’ll be able to say goodbye.” Winston said, knowing well the man didn’t want any goodbye. Grief. “I know that’s not what you want, but it will be the best we can do.”

“She’s dead now. And it’s your fault.” Kamski said, eyeing Connor. “She trusted you, and you killed her.”

“I didn’t… I tried to catch her.”

“You liar. Get out of my house.”

Connor was about to talk again, but he felt Wilson’s hand on his shoulder, seeing a little nod from him.

“You loved her.” Wilson said.

Elijah eyes shifter, his brow frowning. “Of course i loved her, she was my best friend, the only person who understand me. She was everything to me,” he kept himself from saying more, feeling the crack in his voice.

“If you loved her, why did you turn her to the cops?” Connor asked.

Elijah didn’t answer, his eyes lost on Connor’s. He felt the anger building inside of him, but he recognised something else. He wasn’t the only one angry here. Connor was too. Which meant, not everything was lost. It gave him a hint of hope.

“I don’t expect an android to understand the deepness of human friendship.” Elijah started, his finger brushing tears falling. “Get out, we are done here, i have nothing to say.” He said, showing them the front door.

They did, turning around, none of them noticed Elijah’s phone buzzing, nor the way he froze in front of the screen.

30 May 2039, 5 AM

Connor was standing still in front of the house, unaware as if he should ring at such a late hour. He didn’t even know why he was here in the first place. Maybe your suicide had shaken him up more than he expected. He didn’t know.

His fist raised to the wooden door, knocking a first time and a second time.

Why would he want to see him after all? After what happened?

“Lieutenant Anderson?”

Connor prevented Lieutenant Anderson from his suicide attempt that famous night. Now only, Connor realised Hank might have waited longer but did end up killing himself. But, he found no death record.

He pushed the door open, finding it unlock. The house was empty. No traces of human living here, no traces of Sumo. Hank didn’t live here any more. Connor sat on the floor of the house, waiting a few minutes before he finally retrieved the force of moving, closing the door behind him, heading toward the Cyberlife tower, a huge weight on his shoulder.

30 May 2039, 9 AM

“The ex co-CEO of the Cyberlife company, known as Y/N L/N recently revealed to the public had been reported dead after a suicide, following a track by FBI agent. The police are actively searching for her body after she jumped off the bridge. We will give you news as soon as we know more.” The TV shut down.

“I am officially dead.” You stated, turning toward your team. “Now, the real game start.” Markus was standing next to you, handing you the Vendetta mask.

“Let’s win this war.” He said, a smile on his face.

30 May 2039, 1 am 52

You rushed out of the water, freezing, your entire body aching from the fall. It had worked. Everything worked out perfectly. Joel was running toward you with a blanket, urging you out of the water.

“We need to leave, now.” He said, pressing your footsteps.

“Yeah, i know, but my body ached right now.”

“I guessed that.”

He helped you climb on the black van, as North started the car, looking at you over your shoulder.

“Are you in any pain?” She asked.

“Don’t worry, i’ll be fine, let’s go.” You rushed, using the blanket to warm yourself up. “We’ll have a clear vision in the morning. We need to be at the tower as soon as possible.”

“We’ll be there, don’t worry.” North tried to comfort you.

“Yeah, i know, sorry.” You tape Joel shoulder. “Give me your phone.”

30 May 2039 2 am 15 Kamski’s house.

Elijah heard the vibration of his phone on the table, seeing Connor and Wilson leaving. With anger, he took it, ready to throw it against the window before the text took him off guard.

It was from an unknown number.

“I’ll always be two-step ahead of you.

With love. “

A smile crossed his face through the tears running down his cheeks as he fell on the ground.

“Damn you” He whispered.

Thank you for your patience while waiting for this, thank you for still showing interested when i lost interest. Thank you all. I'll post the next part as soon as possible 🫶

#connor dbh x reader #connor rk800 #connor x you #dbh connor #connor x reader #connor rk800 x y/n #connor rk800 x reader

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