#valorant angst

[caramel1mochi]

One Hazy Winter [Iso x F! Reader] [End]

[ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 ]

Genre: Angst, fluff ‎ 

Words: 3k ‎ 

Synopsis: One winter before his disappearance, you told your boyfriend Yu about a question you’ve had for so long; one even he could hardly respond to. It took many more hopeless winters for you to finally have your answer.‎ 

Note: Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked.

We're done with Iso!! As per the vote, I'm moving on to Yoru once everything's ready. And man is he as painful to write as I remember haha

‎

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Spring, present day.

ㅤㅤ

It took you a long while to decide on whether that was one of the worst or best months of your life.

On one hand, you came back with a quarter of the harvest you were supposed to get, and you had to wait for a while until your lemon trees would bear fruit once more. That, and working with only thirteen lemons turned out to be much more difficult than you thought when it comes to baking.

And on the other hand, it was fun attempting to come up with workarounds with Ying. That, and you woke up the next morning with a new sensation that wrapped around you like a clingy lover. And it wasn't anything like the miserable pessimism you hauled around, or like the apathy that…

No, no. It was apathy. 

But a more positive kind of apathy. One that beckoned you to come to terms with many dilemmas in your mind. One of them being that winter was just... winter. A season. And like every other season, it had its ups and downs. It wasn't some omnipresent being out to get you, or whatever.

And quite frankly, this apathy was the best feeling you've ever had in a long... well, in your entire life. You woke up looking forward to the day, with a desire to actually get things going.

And that's exactly what you did.

You spent the past three months selling those plants back in your apartment at that nursery, you made friends with that lady who recommended you do such a thing, and now you were back at Yu’s house to check in on your growing orange trees. Heck, Yu’s neighbours even started greeting you whenever you came by.

They definitely saw you carrying the baskets of fruit and wanted some. Maybe you should use this wealthy neighbourhood to your advantage, you mused.

ㅤ

Ying called you earlier and mentioned discussing the state of her café with you since she had ‘more important matters to get to’. And you didn’t really mind, despite still being a mere barista, but she said she’d discuss the details by afternoon… But the location? Yeah, she promised she’d get back to you on that after she’d decided.

You moved down the short corridor, your eyes taking a moment to adjust to the strong rays that poured through the windows of the doors. The darkness around you did not help ease the pain of such a bright light. But even then, you wrapped your free hand around the handle and forced the door open, allowing the brightness to finally balance itself out.

You noticed something yellow out of the corner of your eye. And you would’ve dismissed it if you hadn’t turned to look at what it was. It was… inside the basket. There was one Meyer lemon, probably from that harvest months ago that the two of you missed. It kind of made sense that you’d forget it. You haven’t really visited this house after that day, not with the ongoing streak of snowstorms. And, you know, Ying’s persistence on keeping you safe.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of a nearby mosquito. And immediately, you dropped the watering can and crushed the bug, instantly killing it. Now that you considered it, the one good thing about winter was the lack of annoying insects. That, and the fact it helped plants rejuvenate after a harvest, and that it kept earth’s temperature in check, and… 

No, nevermind. You didn’t want to be warming up to winter. Pun intended.

You moved back towards your growing orange trees and observed their shape for a moment. And like the row of lemon trees right behind them, they looked as otherworldly as they were. The white flowers on it looked even prettier under the sunlight’s strong glare. Much prettier than in the winter, but they both had their charm. Super photogenic.

Just as you grabbed the watering can up from the ground, your phone vibrated with an embarrassingly loud ringtone, and you pulled it out of your pocket only to discover that Ying was calling. At the worst time as well, you thought as you answered and held up the device to your ear.

ㅤ

"Hi."

ㅤ

"Y/N, I've decided!"

ㅤ

Her voice took you by surprise more than the ensemble of loud chirping birds around you.

ㅤ

"Decided?"

ㅤ

"We're going to meet up on the bridge. Do you remember it?"

ㅤ

You kept the phone held up against your ear with your shoulder, grabbing one branch and gently pushing it aside so that the water from your can could reach every crevice of the tree.

ㅤ

"The bridge...?"

ㅤ

"Yes! I was told it looks ethereal in the spring, and it truly does! Ah, and it's closer to the train station than I thought. We can use it as a landmark for when we leave. What do you think?"

ㅤ

You continued watering in silence for a moment. It looks ethereal in the spring? Who the heck told her that?

Whatever, it wasn’t your job to question everything.

ㅤ

"That can work. When do I come by?"

ㅤ

"Actually, I'm already here."

ㅤ

You immediately stopped watering.

ㅤ

"Already? Ying, the least you could've done was give me a heads up."

ㅤ

“I’m sorry, but I have something scheduled for sundown! I’ll see you there, okay? I promise you, it’ll be worth it!”

ㅤ

She closed the call before you could retort.

She was probably going to promote you or straight up just hand you the café. What with how busy she was starting to get and how much she disappeared, it wouldn’t surprise you if it turned out to be actually that. You didn’t really mind taking control of the café, now that you thought about it… Oh, but the idea of dealing with your co-workers’ minute problems sounded like pure torture.

You sighed and continued watering your plants in silence, quickening your pace so that you’d be able to make it to her in time.

ㅤ

ㅤ

It took you a while, but eventually, you made it. And the only guidance you used was the pitter patter of the children’s feet as they ran around and cackled, alongside the melodic chirping of the birds. The bus left a trail of smoke as it sped off, but this one mild inconvenience was immediately drowned out by the sight before you.

Ying was right, the place looked like paradise on Earth now that it was spring.

The waters were crystal clear, the trees were full of life and the grass on the ground vibrated with an enigmatic amount of cheerfulness. Almost like they were harmoniously swaying to a tune you couldn’t hear. Had someone taken a picture of this place, you would’ve convinced yourself it was just editing and that there was no way Earth would look like this.

But it did, you mused as you approached the bridge.

It didn’t take long for you to arrive at a comfortable spot and rest your arms on the warm railing. Thankfully, despite your short height, the railings weren’t too tall and your loose clothes allowed you maximum flexibility to peer through to catch a glimpse of the waters. Short enough for you to be able to comfortably lean on it, but not so short children could fall down.

Your eyes were firmly fixated on the lake. And for the first time in so long, you felt... content.

You still didn't know what your goal in life was. You still didn't know why you should keep going, among many other questions like that. But all you knew was that the path your life headed in... Well, you didn’t want to change anything about it.

What would tomorrow look like? You pondered with a fond smile, holding up the Meyer lemon just above the lake and allowing the sun's light to shine in on it. And it beamed. It beamed with celestial beauty unfathomable to the human mind. 

This was your harvest.

You put down the lemon with an even wider smile and stared at the lake instead, the fish that swam by. Tomorrow sounded amazing, now that you thought about it.

And you looked forward to it.

ㅤ

"Y/N?"

ㅤ

A soft voice promptly came up from behind you. You sighed and stuffed the lemon back into your pockets, before turning around to meet her gaze.

ㅤ

"What took you so long? I thought you were in a hurry–"

ㅤ

The moment you locked gazes with a familiar pair of lilac eyes, your breathing hitched, and time stood still. 

It took a moment to comprehend that this person wasn’t Ying. It wasn’t Ying at all. It was… You felt your heart drop as you rapidly looked the figure up and down.

Broad shoulders, purple eyes, black hair, tall stature…

It was Yu. He stood only a few feet away from you; and he donned a meticulously designed hoodie with collars tall enough to conceal the lower portion of his face. One you had never seen before.

The words were lodged in your throat. Scratch that, no, your mind went completely blank, and the world felt like it started breaking apart.

ㅤ

“Yu…”

ㅤ

"Y/N, I..." He took a step forward, the floorboards audibly creaking under his weight. "I'm so sorry."

ㅤ

His voice had a sombre undertone. Slight and drowned out by the mirth that surrounded the both of you, but it was still telling. It was one that successfully let you know that he drowned in regret, all without saying a single word.

And yet, you still weren't sure how to feel about this. Sad? Happy? Furious? The second option was the most obvious one in your mind, but for the love of God, you just couldn’t form a single thought in your head. Heck, you couldn’t even comprehend the situation in general. All you knew was that Yu was here. And that was… No, wrong wasn’t the word.

His hand gently clasped your shoulder, and a familiar warmth landed alongside it.

ㅤ

"I'm sorry it took so long, but I- I was caught up in so many things, and it all just..."

ㅤ

He then pulled you into a hug. Your cheek slammed against his chest, the impact only cushioned by his thick hoodie.

ㅤ

"I missed you."

ㅤ

You didn't react.

For a few seconds, you stood there with a stiff posture as you stared into space, unsure whether you should return the hug or just stay silent and not do anything. This whole situation felt unreal. It felt like one of those hyper realistic dreams your brain would conjure up whenever it decided it wanted to escape your pitiful life, but that sprinkle of hope always scattered the moment you woke up. But it wasn't. In fact, he stood right there, the familiar scent of lemons taking over your nostrils on account of how close he was.

Yu was here… He was present. He came back.

Though you shut your eyes as hard as you could, tears still formed against your will, and they were quick to stream down your cheeks.

ㅤ

"Where..." you started, "Where were you...?"

ㅤ

You weakly pulled away, but Yu still kept you in his grip. And you immediately took this chance to observe him all over again despite your incredibly blurry vision. It was as if those years had never passed given his features. He still had that same enchanting face, and those pretty lilac eyes that always tore away at your stress with just one glance.

ㅤ

"After all this time..."

ㅤ

You held his cheek and caressed it. His pale skin yielded under your touch, and the palm of your hand outlined the sharp structure of his jaw. The softness of his skin, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes juxtaposed to his stony expression… All of it was all so familiar.

ㅤ

"Why did you leave me, Yu?"

ㅤ

"I'm– I'm sorry, Y/N. It wasn't my choice. If I could take it all back, I would–"

ㅤ

"Why did you leave me?!"

ㅤ

You burst into tears and clutched his hoodie, burying your head in his chest.

ㅤ

"I thought you were dead! I– I thought that– I thought... I thought I lost you...!"

ㅤ

Out of pure instinct, Yu was quick to bring you closer and tightly hold you in his arms.

ㅤ

"I'm here, I'm here, okay? Nobody's dead."

ㅤ

"I thought you died, Yu! I thought you were dead, I– thought you were..."

ㅤ

Your sobs and nonsensical babbles continued. It was all the same repetitive questions about his well being, and more specifically, how you thought he was dead. Each sentence you managed to complete felt like another blade plunging his heart, only further drowning him in guilt.

And unfortunately for him, the only thing Yu knew to do in this situation was hold you and gently caress your back.

ㅤ

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I– I should've explained it all from the beginning. But I... didn't want to lose you if I ever did."

ㅤ

He knew how stupidly soft you made him. How he'd stutter when speaking to you, and how wide his smile had gotten when you two first hugged, your arms squishing his thick white hoodie just to reach his form. The same hoodie he spent hours washing blood off of the night before.

Maybe he should've told you.

ㅤ

"I thought you were dead, I– I thought... that gun, you–"

ㅤ

Though you followed these loosely strung sentences with a curse, one specific word successfully pierced his bubble.

ㅤ

"Gun? What gun?"

ㅤ

This question seemed to bring you back as well. You pulled away, and just the sight of your red cheeks and shimmering eyes, aching with raw emotion, all of it was enough for him to understand how much this impacted you.

ㅤ

"I saw that gun. N– next to that medallion." You furrowed your brow, the sun sharply highlighting your tear-stricken face. "Is that it? Are you in a gang, Yu? Is that what you couldn't tell me?!"

ㅤ

"No! I– I wasn't in a gang, Y/N. It's..."

ㅤ

Yu's gaze fell. Unintentionally, he instead eyed your trembling hands.

He couldn’t hide this anymore, could he?

ㅤ

"I– I'm... Look, as unbelievable as this sounds, I– I was a… I was a hitman."

ㅤ

"...You were what? A hitman?!"

ㅤ

"Yeah. I… That’s the truth."

ㅤ

You narrowed your eyes. It really was unbelievable. How could someone like him be capable of killing someone? No, not someone, but people? And for a job?! You would’ve labelled him a liar if it weren’t for that blasted gun.

Then, a name popped up in your mind, one that seemed to support this idea.

ㅤ

"Iso...?"

ㅤ

He went blank for a moment.

ㅤ

"...That's, uh, no, that's a code name. I switched to a profession less... suffocating. That's what they call me now."

ㅤ

"Ying was in on this?"

ㅤ

Yu's face blanched. But quickly, he held your hand and firmly kept it in your grip.

ㅤ

"She was my only way of knowing you were alive! There wasn't any– Y/N, look, none of this should've happened, I know I should've been honest from the beginning, but I didn't want you to leave if I ever told you!” His eyes darted elsewhere. “Ying wasn’t happy when she found out, but I–"

ㅤ

"I’m not like her! I never would've gone anywhere! You could've been the devil and I still would've stayed because I wouldn’t have kept going if you weren’t there!” You furrowed your brow. ”But that's not the case anymore. I still love you, but I know what I deserve, Yu. I know I deserve a relationship that isn't... one-sided..."

ㅤ

You suddenly choked on your words. Yet, he was quick to respond when he could.

ㅤ

"But we can have that, Y/N! We can start anew, no more secrets. Nothing between us, okay? Nothing but the truth. Just, please..." he squeezed your trembling hand, "give me one more chance. I promise I'll make you the happiest woman on Earth."

ㅤ

Tears began to flow once more, tracing the same path as the ones that had dried out mere seconds ago.

For a moment, your eyes slammed shut, and you used this pause to both catch your breath and comprehend the situation. It was hard to make a decision. Sure, you were unbelievably mad at everything. At Ying, at Yu, at the world, and especially those people who held Yu hostage, if his words were to be believed.

But, Hitman…? It sounded so unbelievable. Yu was just way too kind and pacifistic to commit murder. It sounded impossible.

Almost mechanically, You rested your head on his chest, lying limp as he wrapped his arms around you. The lack of aversion on your side registered as permission for him to hold you. Not that he still didn't remain incredibly cautious.

ㅤ

"Happiest woman on Earth..." 

ㅤ

You muttered ponderously to yourself. You were already happy. But you knew you’d be happier with him. Even after everything that happened, you missed having him by your side again. You missed his curious little questions about things you considered mundane, and that endearing look of realisation as you explained it to him…

Then, a smile lifted your lips.

ㅤ

"I missed you, Yu." You hugged him back. "From now on, you’ll be honest with me. About everything."

ㅤ

Being this close to him, you felt the jump in his palpitations as he registered these words.

ㅤ

"I will! I will. I promise."

ㅤ

You closed your eyes, allowing the familiar scent of lemons to enter your nostrils and put your mind at ease once more. The two of you stayed like this for a second. It felt like this embrace’s sole purpose was to make up for how much you two missed each other. Of course, he knew he would’ve lost a bit of his sanity had he not known about your whereabouts, but he also knew that saying that probably… Maybe it’s best to keep quiet. Thank God for Ying’s updates…

Then, his eyes shot open at the mention of the healer.

ㅤ

“Hey, let’s go home. I have so much to tell you.”

ㅤ

You pulled away and wiped your cheek once more, noticing the eagerness etched on his features. You nodded.

ㅤ

“I’d like that.”

ㅤ

With that, he held your hand and helped you stand up, and the two of you began walking away from the bridge. His thumb promptly began tracing the lines on your palm all on its own. And of course, you couldn’t help but wistfully smile at this familiar

Despite everything, you couldn’t truly hate this man, no matter how much you knew you had to. You just wanted to know how this gentle giant was supposedly a hitman.

You rested your head on his shoulder as you moved.

[starrymlku]

Chamber's Loneliness

(because somebody brought up their Chamber brainworms and that triggered me to bring up my Chamber brainworms, and we ate each other's brainworms until I made this and exploded)

[f0ofishies]

VALORANT

I. Iso drabble (sfw)

wc ; 256

add/info ; poor chinese translation I think, reader's powers isn't really explained much.

II. how'd they text you + impressions; Omen, Gekko, Chamber (sfw)

wc ; 241

add/info ; might be ooc for them, chamber is a bit of a 🚩

[no-one-at-all75]

Happier (Gender Neutral) (Angst)

Hey, how's it goin? I have a little bit of angst for you to enjoy!! This is heavily based on the song Happier by Olivia Rodrigo. If you haven't heard it, I highly recommend listening to it before you read. If not no worries :)

Gekko x Reader Angst

Trigger Warnings: Break ups, anxiety attack if you squint.

Requests are always open :)

Words: 865

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You closed your locker, looking at all the torn up paper scraps on the door with melancholy. You shut your eyes tight to try and prevent the tears from falling. 

I can’t cry here, not again, you thought to yourself as you gather whatever binders and books you needed for your next class. You look down at the ground while trying to get to your class as soon as possible, avoiding all eye contact from your acquaintances, and especially him. Your thoughts are drowned out by the hundreds of voices booming loudly in your ears, its almost soothing. Almost. 

You make it to your class with ease and take a seat in the back row, looking at your desk with sorrow. You already asked the teacher, janitor, and principle if you could replace your desk with a new one, but they all declined. They all said it was your fault for scribbling yours and Mateo’s name in it, making your love eternal. But it was the opposite. Your hand makes its way to the side of your head, forcing it to turn and to look out the nearby window. You watched as the students laughed in the quad without a care in the world. You silently ‘tch’ to yourself as you continue to watch your fellow high schoolers play around, talk, vape, and trade homework while frantically scribbling down answers. Then your eyes land on him. Your heart breaks as you watch him talk with such ease with another girl on his arm. 

We broke up a month ago, you thought. You can feel your face flush and your nose tighten. You continue to watch, even though it is torture for you. You look at his new girlfriend. You knew her too well. She was on the cheer team, sweet, beautiful, smart, the complete package deal. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders like silk, her plump lips curving into a smile as she looks up at Mateo, your Mateo, with love in her eyes. Is that all the time it takes to fall in love? A month. You don’t even notice the tears spilling out of your eyes until the bell rings. Your heart quickens as you realize the mess your face must look like. You frantically shove your hands into your eyes, attempting to wipe away any redness or extra tears that may have strayed there. You take a deep breath and grab your history folder and take out your homework, hoping class will distract you from the pain you felt. 

‘

Your class ended too soon for your liking. You stayed until the last person left class so you could sneak away and be unseen. You and Mateo had the same friends, and now that you two were broken up, you didn’t hang out with them anymore. They all took his side and tossed you aside. You had nowhere to go, no one to talk to anymore. You continued through the long hallways of your high school; dodging students like it was a sport. You finally made it outside to the quad; you attempt to breathe in through your nose but it’s stuffed up from the crying. 

You find a spot on the grass, finally alone with your terrible thoughts. You swing your backpack to the side of you and rummage through it. Might as well do work while I’m here, you thought as you pull out the previous history binder and look at the new work assigned to you. You looked up slightly from your work to see him and his new girlfriend sitting under a tree, right in front of you. You bite your tongue and decide to just focus on your work. 

“Mateo stop. We are in public you know?” She giggles out as he peppers her face in small kisses. His dashing smile spreads across his face with ease as he holds her closer. 

“Ah mí amor how can I help it? You are truly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” You overhear him say. You let out a small groan knowing the truth.

That’s some eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean Mateo. Your dark thoughts take up any vacant space in your head and swirl, making your heart beat faster with panic. 

“Oh, stop it you! You’re such a catch.” She says, the love and admiration has never left her eyes. He lets out a small chuckle before kissing her on her lips again. Your shoulders drop as you finally pack away your things and leave the small grassy spot. You look back at the couple one more time, to bathe in the agony your heart felt. 

“I hope you’re happy Mateo, but not like how you were with me.” Your selfish sentence somehow made its way to his ears, he looks away from his girlfriend and finds your broken eyes. How they gained grey bags and red circles. How your (E/C) changed and were duller, as if the light in your eyes turned off. His brow furrowed as you turned around and walked the other direction. You turned away, from what you thought at one time, your true love.

[thedeepstate69]

Valorant angst hcs

Whats up boys im back with another dose of headcannons but this time they’re depressing because i love it when my fav characters are miserable

Jett hasn’t been able to see her family in over a year as they essentially disowned her after the Venice incident due to believing she was the cause

After burning down his university Phoenix is fucking terrified of what his powers can do sometimes

Yoru really struggles to make and maintain friendships, he usually feels like he’s too much only to put so much distance between himself and others that he just loses friends

Viper once told Reyna that Lucia was getting worse and Reyna just broke down to the point where Viper had to bring Sage in

Every agent has some form of PTSD, among other things, someone accidently dropped something heavy and everyone near them just froze

Deadlock will sometimes wake up screaming because she swears she can feel her arm being blown off again

Some days Deadlock can’t even stand to look at Gekko’s creatures some days and so she just ends up hiding in her room

Sage sometimes sits in the medbay and just cries, mostly after she has to revive someone

All of the older agents have taken it upon themselves to help the younger agents deal with the trauma of killing and dying

After Killjoy was severely injured Brimstone just held her and promised that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her again and when she was killed and brought back a few days later Brim couldn’t look her in the eyes after breaking his promise

Neon is so so cautious when it comes to touching or even being near other people since she feels incredibly guilty if she accidently electrocutes someone

Phoenix hasn’t been able to see his mums since he joined valorant, he got to see them once before he was told about the mirrorverse but after that he couldn’t see them for fear he’d talk about the protocol

Cypher finds himself trying to parent the younger agents a lot, especially the younger female agents since they remind him so much of his daughter. 

Jett was somewhat overwhelmed by Cypher acting like a father figure and had to remind him that she isn’t the person he lost

Almost none of the agents feel comfortable letting the others refer to them by their real names, and if someone does call them by they’re actual name it’ll take longer for it to register because of how closely tied they’ve become to their callsigns

I have so many angsty headcannons lol i love to make my comfort characters suffer

[tendo-shairdye]

HOLY SHIT,, THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IVE EVER FELT THAT GUT WRENCHING SADNESS WHERE UR HEART FALLS TO UR STOMACH WHAT

Since we’re talking about chamber angst I got one in mind hehehehe….

Chamber and f reader are married and had one kid but their kid died due to an unfortunate accident. Chamber wants a divorce since there’s no point in staying since his child is already dead, but reader finds out chamber is cheating on her long time before their child died.

Idk if this makes sense but it’s been stuck in my head for days. You can choose on what happens to reader :>

His love died a long time ago

Chamber x fem! reader

Tw: angst, hurt no comfort, bad habits, cheating, major character death, they all die at the end, fluff? Nah, schizophrenia, mental illness, su1cide in ending 1, I added a plot twist lol

I'm back from my short hiatus ehehehe, anyways this fic is just chamber being a major red flag, he's a good father but not a good lover

From the day you and chamber met it was like you both clicked together. He was a fine man who's words were laced with a hint of flirting but true love. Chamber brought you to his parents and they were delighted that their son had someone as perfect as you, they planned you and chamber's wedding and were the ones to bless your son when it was born.

Though day by day after the child was born it was as if the relationship was hanging on a thread, he'd always say he had work when it was 5 am and dismiss any dates together unless the child was involved. You thought that maybe his schedule was really packed and he wanted to make use of the spare time to bring your son with you so no one gets left out. As the child turned 6... Chamber stopped trying. It was like he's only doing everything for his son and nothing else for you.

His blood, sweat and tears were for his son and not you. Your parent-in-laws didn't know what was going on but you all weren't stupid, he was losing interest in you. Trying to ignore the signs and you loved and stayed with him for years and in a flash his adoration for you is suddenly gone by a flick of a candle light.

It hurt so much. You would never forget that incident ever. Your husband was out for work and you got a call from someone.

"Hello? Are you the mother of (son name) Fabron?"

The caller asked nervously and their voice was shaky though you replied,

"Yes? What is it?"

"Your son got into a fatal accident, we need you right away"

The wine glass in your hand dropped in an instant and it was everything was falling apart.

You immediately called Vincent and pleaded him to come straight to the hospital and you both arrived at the building, blaring sirens of the ambulance ringing in your ears and when you turned around you saw many other children with severe injuries and you hope to god that your son is safe.

"Fuck, fuck What happened to my fucking son?!" Chamber screamed at the officer with tears in his eyes as he threatened to burst inside the building to hold his only child but the officers blocked him and tried to calm him down. You could only watch this tragedy unfold and your mouth was left agape and couldn't say anything because god it aches every muscle in your body to know horrible shit happened to your baby.

After a few minutes you both entered the hospital room and from the glass window you saw him unconscious with bruises and blood all over his skin, the sight making you almost puke in disgust and when you looked up to chamber's face, so much regret and sadness was plastered on his face; his only joy and happiness on the brink of death and him not being able to prevent it made tears run down his face as you both pathetically sob in the room.

All the top-notch surgeons, nurses and everyone did their best to bring your son back to life but it was useless, he only survived for 2 weeks before passing away from extreme physical trauma from some fire at the school and metal that hit the kid's back continuously.

This is it.

The funeral ensues and all people pay respects for the deceased one, but... Chamber just stared down on the glass coffin with a grim expression, it was then you knew the chamber you once loved died with your son.

"Thank you, y/n." He says with a sulky voice while arranging the flowers infront of the grave.

Choked sobs escaping your lips and tears dampening your black attire, you ask, "For what?"

"For giving me (son name).. but I am afraid my love for you died with my son."

...

"What do you mean by that?..."

He only stares at you with an empty expression and walked away, not saying anything else but only muttered a small, "We'll talk as soon as we get home" it was too quiet but loud enough for you to hear.

When you arrived home, you were terrified about what he's about to say, it was like deep inside you knew damn well what's going to happen next. Your son was the only thing keeping your relationship with him intact and now that he's gone, that glue that held you and chamber together was gone as well. Chamber cleared his throat as he lazily sat down on the couch, some documents lay infront of the coffee table and you had no idea what was to come next, "So.. I was wondering that we should file for divorce."

'why?'

"It's because there's no point with being together anymore, if I'm with you, all I'll remember is (son name) but if I re-married I can start all over again," each word sent shivers down your spine as you stood in shock with tears forming in your eyes, "Besides, the only thing that kept us together was our son, but without him, I don't need to be with you."

"Is this a fucking joke?! Were you already cheating on me with that bitch after I gave birth? You piece of shit I hate you—" you were cut off by him by his simple reply, "Yes, a long time ago I met some young woman, she's quite demure and perfect and your beauty faded when you focused on (son name) more, I lost all attraction for you but I couldn't leave you with the kid still around, I'm very sorry but you should pack your things and leave."

The last line broke every sanity you had left and you fell into madness, you screamed and threw shit everywhere but you calmed down after a while and packed your things while glaring at the man, before you left, all you saw was relief washing over the man as he no longer had to be stuck with you.

"adieu, mon amour" he said under his breath while slowly closing the door as you escort yourself out of the mansion with luggages in your hand.

Both endings will hurt. There is no good ending.

la mort de mon âme- (where reader kills themselves) skip to second ending if you want

After you left the mansion, you had no idea where to go. Your mother-in-law asked you what was going on and you just told her everything that Vincent left you for another girl and you could hear the disappointment in her voice through the line.

"Where are you going to go now?" She asked nervously, she was a good woman. Her posh attitude and lifestyle didn't get in the way of her morals though, she would always support you and was the one who helped you through anything. She offered you a place to stay but you politely declined, your current mental health being too broken to even make correct decisions so you decided to block your in-laws for good.

You had nothing now. You had no one to help you anymore. It was clear you needed mental help but you wasted all your money on drugs and alcohol; getting high in the middle of the night and wondering if things would be better if you had never married that son of a bitch, you tell yourself that you're fine but you still cry at chamber's posts online, with his new fiancee in just 2 weeks of divorcing and the love in his eyes when he looks at her.

The pain is unbearable at this point, no drugs, no wine and no doctor could ever fix you now. So you decided to just step on the stool and hang yourself goodbye but before you do, you text chamber's number in hopes of him reading your last words.

'It has been 5 months without you, I truly still love you Vincent and I wish you all the best.. one last thing before I feel the sweet release of my last breath, did those years of loving me really worth it? I won't see your reply anyways, by the time you've received this I'm gone. Adieu.' your hands shaking as you type the short paragraph and knees buckling since you're supposed to die now, it hurts though.

Meanwhile, before you sent the letter, Vincent was sat on an armchair while filing out new documents for his work.

Getting wed after mourning wasn't a really good idea, there was chill on his spine telling him there's something wrong. He thought it was just the cold air kissing his skin in the office as he continued to sign some paperwork.

Ding.

One message from mon chou ♡.

Chamber internally sighs as he ignores the message, he thought it was just you pleasing him again to come back to you but his instincts told him to just read it and just get it over with.

His nimble fingers swiftly opened the phone and read the contents of the paragraph, the more he read it the more he felt mortified. He thought he stopped loving you.

But the last line crushed his soul entirely.

That night he cried into the silk sheets he once slept with you on, he gripped the pillows you both shared together and poured all his grief out.

And that night, was also the day your son was born and the day the news flashed about some suicide.

Maybe his love did die a long time ago, though his love that was only a speck of dust was still left in his heart.

Ending 2

la vie continue- (where reader is pregnant with chamber's child after the divorce)

After you left the mansion, you had no idea where to go. Your mother-in-law asked you what was going on and you just told her everything that Vincent left you for another girl and you could hear the disappointment in her voice through the line.

Before she could say anything else you hung up and blocked all your in-laws. The stash of money that you got after separating ways with chamber was a lot and you were so out of your mind you decided to just get some wine to drink the pain out.

The wine glass in your hand as you stared out to the horizon, you took a sip and just cried alone on your desk at the apartment you rented, you could go get a job or shit but you doubt anyone would want to hire a hopeless wreck like you.

Though the next morning you were puking so much and you had weird food cravings but you knew damn well what that meant, in a hurry you bought a pregnancy test from a nearby pharmacy store and it turned out positive.

Getting your shit together, you stopped buying crack and alcohol and focused on yourself. Buying a ton shit of baby essentials for the baby and eventually got a job as a chef in your cousin's restaurant so you could save up.

After the baby was born though, someone who knew Vincent and you asked about the divorce and who was the father, you refused to tell the nurse because you knew she was going to snitch and so she did.

Raising with so much love and care did it grow as a wonderful teenager, a respectful and smart one. It was like life gave you another chance but it all went down hill once again. Rumors started spreading about who was the father and it eventually reached chamber's ears about his secret new child he never met before. Though he was a married man now it wouldn't hurt to get in touch with you.

He visited your apartment when no one was around, ah! Small picture frames of you and the child he never knew and a broken frame with only you and your first son. It hurt that there was not even a picture of him on the walls but why would you? He's the one who broke your trust and your heart.

Then he left after a few walking around the house, he made sure when he broke in was that there was no sign of anyone breaking inside so no one could catch him. But as he was leaving the neighborhood, he bumped into some kid.

It looked exactly like you, same bone structure and fashion with the same eyes as him.

"Hello sir? Are you lost?" Your daughter asked him, he seemed like he wasn't familiar with the neighborhood and she wouldn't mind to help a stranger out.

"Oh I'm not mademoiselle, I was wondering if you knew about (reader)?" He tried to keep his calm but his composure was breaking one by one.

"Oh she's my mother, do you need anything?"

"Nothing, I'll take my leave."

'Hmm that was pretty awkward, it was like I met him before— oh well, mom's waiting for me back home..' the kid thought to herself before she went back to the apartment.

Chamber now knew about the secret child, though he didn't know what to do. He was married with a girl named Reine but he quickly realized the girl was infertile. His initial plan was to divorce the girl to go back to you but his reputation took a hit after his first divorce, oh the amount of connections he would lose if he chose that decision.

He came back again to the apartment 2 years later, it was empty this time. The stench of blood reeking in the bedroom and as he went inside, the sight of your dead body with flies flying over you. Bottles of pills spilled on the hardwood floor that he was careful to not step on, maybe he was too late. 2 years was too late.

He awoke from his slumber with tears dried on his cheeks, he forgot.

You and the daughter was already dead 2 years ago; he must've forgot to take his medicine.

This gotta be the cringiest ass fic I've ever wrote, I regret writing ending 2 💀. Thank you for reading and requesting though 😈

[koyagifs]

and i'll pray

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing:: ot8 x reader ᝰ.ᐟ genre:: angst | ᝰ.ᐟ au:: valorant ᝰ.ᐟ synopsis:: it was supposed to be a simple mission, defuse the spike and return back to base. ᝰ.ᐟ word count:: 4.1k ᝰ.ᐟ warning(s):: inaccurate valorant lore, guns, death, description of pain. mxm, fxm. a quick rundown on who is who: sage is yn, sage is a healer. hongjoong is brimstone, he’s the leader of the team and is a controller. seonghwa is reyna, a duelist meaning he will always enter site. yunho is chamber, a sentinel. wooyoung is raze, another duelist. san is killjoy, a sentinel and helps control the site. yeosang is fade, an initiator and has the power to show people’s fear. mingi is phoenix, a duelist and has fire powers. jongho is iso, another duelist but has sharp aim. ᝰ.ᐟ highly recommend listening to ego while reading for a better experience.

walking down the only road, that's available

Gunfire echoed through the empty streets, the clash between alphas and their omega counterparts raging beneath a curtain of relentless rain.

A sudden, agonizing cry tore through the chaos—sharp and raw.

Hongjoong's head snapped toward the sound. Without hesitation, he pulled out his pad, smoke hissing as it deployed around him. His eyes locked onto the source: San, collapsed on the ground, one hand pressed against his chest, blood seeping through his fingers.

Wooyoung was already there, kneeling beside him, tears welling in his eyes.

"FALL BACK!" Hongjoong’s voice roared over the gunfire as he charged toward them.

Mingi and Seonghwa continued to fire, holding the line as the jet descended behind them, engines screaming through the storm.

Inside, Yeosang and Jongho extended their arms, ready to pull their wounded teammate aboard. Their faces were stone, unreadable. The jet quick to be in the air and beginning their flight to the team base.

the only person i see, is everybody else but you

San let out a sharp, painful cry, his head turning slowly to the side.

His eyes landed on Wooyoung, who hovered anxiously over him, face etched with worry and relief. He saw Wooyoung's face above him, lips moving, but the words didn’t reach him.

Seonghwa stood nearby, his gaze heavy with concern, silently watching San’s every movement.

Hongjoong’s eyes were fixed on San, but his expression was blank—numb, as if trying to process the fragile reality before him.

The room was thick with tension, each breath weighted by fear and hope intertwined.

trynna get a one way ticket, but somethings missing

San felt like he was suspended in water—floating somewhere between life and whatever waited beyond.

His body felt impossibly light, yet unbearably heavy. Each breath was a struggle, his chest tight, his limbs distant, as though they didn’t belong to him anymore.

His vision flickered in and out—blurry shapes giving way to sharp bursts of memory.

Laughter. Lights. Wooyoung’s hand in his.

He saw them again—on stage, bathed in golden light, the roar of the crowd a distant echo in his ears. His members beside him, alive, vibrant, hearts beating in time with the music.

Then—

A kiss. Soft. Familiar.

Wooyoung’s lips ghosting over his, full of promises they never had time to keep.

A thumb brushing his cheek. Fingers threading through his hair. Lingering touches in quiet corners, far from the eyes of the world.

San’s heart ached.

His body remained still, but his soul surged forward—grasping, reaching.

He wasn’t ready to let go.

Not of them.

Not of him.

i'm on my knees, lord please. lord save me

San let out a choked cough, the sound wet and fragile. Blood smeared his lips as Wooyoung cradled him, arms trembling with fear.

San’s vision blurred, colors bleeding into each other, the world around him fading into static. His hearing dimmed, like he was slipping underwater.

“San—” Wooyoung’s voice cracked, panic clawing at his throat.

San’s eyes fluttered—then rolled back. His lids shut.

“No. No, no, no—”

Wooyoung’s voice broke as he shook him gently, desperately, trying to will him awake.

Seonghwa turned away, unable to bear the sight, shoulders stiff with silent grief.

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched so tightly it trembled, his nails digging into his palms as he stared, frozen, broken.

come home, come here.

Blood stained Wooyoung’s hands, warm and terrifyingly real, as he held San close.

San’s lips moved—silent, trembling—trying to form words that refused to come.

His fingers clutched at Wooyoung’s collar with what little strength he had left, desperate, clinging to him like he was the last thread tying him to the world.

“San—hey, hey, stay with me,” Wooyoung whispered, voice breaking, eyes wild with fear.

Hongjoong dropped to his knees beside them, his composure shattering.

“San,” he called, his voice cracking, barely above a whisper, “please.”

San let out a ragged cough, pain ripping through his fragile body. Blood coated his lips again as he gasped for breath.

Wooyoung tightened his hold, steadying him, his own chest heaving.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, forehead pressed to San’s. “I’m right here.”

His lips trembled, his voice barely holding. Then, through the shimmer of tears, he glanced sideways.

Hongjoong was holding San’s other hand, his head bowed, expression carved in grief. He gave San’s hand a firm squeeze—silent, steady, trying to pass strength through his touch.

come out and let me breathe. oh, let me breathe now

Mingi slightly slammed his head at the hatch, gaze drifting downward—toward the city below. A sight that made his heart squeeze as the billboard stared a him.

The jet moving with grace as it haunted him.

There, on a the rooftop, an old billboard stood.

Faded. Torn.

A memory of another life.

A promotional poster from before the First Light.

Back when they were just idols.

His vision blurred for a second, not from rain, but memory.

come home, come here come out and let me breathe. let me breathe

He was back in their old dorm, sitting cross-legged on the living room floor. The carpet was worn, the couch sagged in the middle, but it had been home.

Yunho sat beside him, eyes narrowed in concentration, gripping his controller like his life depended on it.

They were neck and neck in Mario Party, the tension thick between them as Mingi snagged the final star—his victory assured.

“YES!” Mingi shouted, jumping up in triumph. “Eat it, Yunho!”

But before Yunho could retaliate with his usual banter, both of them froze.

Bright lights flashed through the thin dorm curtains—white, sterile, unfamiliar.

They exchanged a look. The game was forgotten.

Outside, the world was already changing.

They didn’t know it yet, but that was the night the First Light began.

That was the night the idols died—and something else took their place.

i pray that my jealousy dont turn into evil

Seonghwa stood with you at the edge of the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore as the wind tugged softly at your clothes. His hand was wrapped around yours, fingers tightly interlocked like he was afraid to let go.

The sky above was breathtaking—washed in streaks of pink and violet, the colors of a fading day. Radiant light spilled across the horizon, casting a soft glow over your faces.

For a moment, it felt like time had stilled.

But then—

Your grip faltered.

“Yn?” Seonghwa turned to you, concern already creeping into his voice.

You swayed slightly before collapsing, your body crumpling to the sand.

“Yn!”

Seonghwa dropped to his knees beside you, his arms instantly around you. Panic surged through him as he held your unmoving form, his breath catching in his throat.

The beauty of the sky faded into the background.

All he could focus on was you.

and i pray, that the world doesn't shake up my ego

Seonghwa turned his gaze away, unable to watch any longer.

His jaw clenched, a storm of grief and guilt threatening to collapse in on him.

The weight of it all—the blood, the fear, the fragile thread San clung to—pressed down like lead on his chest.

But it wasn’t just that.

His heart twisted as another wound ached quietly in the background.

You.

His eyes dropped to his hand, to the ring he still wore—a promise made in softer times.

Now, it stared back at him like a cruel joke. A symbol of something broken.

Something lost.

Behind him, Hongjoong leaned heavily against the wall of the jet.

His breath was shallow, shaky—his body trembling with everything he refused to say aloud.

His hand curled into a tight fist, nails biting into skin.

Then—finally—his knees buckled.

He sank to the floor, shoulders shaking in silence.

As his body hit the cold metal with a soft thud, a memory surged forward, uninvited.

i pray, that my jealousy dont turn into evil

The blinding lights of a concert stage. The roar of a crowd screaming their names. The thunder of their hearts in sync.

He was bowing, arms linked with his members, sweat-soaked and smiling through the exhaustion.

San was beside him—on his right.

Grinning, glowing, alive.

Their fingers were interlocked, raised in unity as camera flashes burst like fireworks around them.

They were just boys then. Dreamers. Stars.

Now—

Hongjoong blinked, breath catching in his throat as the memory shattered.

The cheers were gone.

and i pray, that the world doesn't shake up my ego

The only sound now was the hum of the jet and what was the staggering breathe of San, now stood silence.

He looked up through glassy eyes and saw Wooyoung still holding San’s body, trembling.

Seonghwa hadn’t moved. He couldn’t.

And somewhere inside them all, that stage—the one they once stood on like gods—was burning.

my ego

Wooyoung stared at San’s now lifeless body, his mind blank, body frozen.

His hands—shaking, soaked in San’s blood—rested on his chest like he could still will his heart to beat again. But it was quiet now. Too quiet.

The silence screamed louder than the gunfire ever had.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

His eyes drifted to the wall, but he wasn’t really seeing it. He was seeing him.

that the world doesn't shake up my ego

San, laughing until he fell off the couch. San, kicking his feet in excitement over a midnight snack. San, pulling Wooyoung close under the blanket during storms.

A sob clawed its way out of Wooyoung’s throat as a memory slammed into him without warning—

They were in a quiet studio, the low buzz of a tattoo needle still echoing faintly in the air.

Wooyoung sat there, the skin on his knee red and tender. Beside him, San grinned—bright, proud, a little smug.

They both stared at the ink, freshly etched into their skin. A matching symbol. A quiet promise.

“Looks good on you,” San said, voice teasing but soft.

Wooyoung smirked, eyes twinkling as he nudged him with his elbow. “Told you I’d do it first.”

San rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, but the smile on his face was everything. He stepped forward, patting Wooyoung’s shoulder gently—then without hesitation, pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m stuck with you now,” San whispered against his hair.

“You always were,” Wooyoung replied, burying his face into his friend’s neck, holding on just a little longer than he needed to.

heaven heaven sent you, but i am broken... why?

Wooyoung’s hands pressed firmly over San’s chest, trembling with effort.

His body shook with each shallow breath he managed, the adrenaline wearing off and the terror setting in like ice beneath his skin.

His throat burned—raw from screaming, from sobbing, from calling San’s name again and again until his voice fractured into silence.

At last, he collapsed forward, laying his head gently on San’s chest.

He nestled in close, as if proximity alone could hold San’s soul in place.

The scent of blood clung thick in the air, metallic and suffocating. But Wooyoung forced himself to breathe deeper, searching for something—anything—that still smelled like San.

His San.

Jasmine shampoo. Fabric softener. The warmth of skin that used to radiate with laughter.

His arms wrapped tighter around him, clutching not just a broken body, but the memories between them. The stolen kisses, the quiet nights, the promise.

“Please come back,” he whispered, voice hoarse and breaking. “I—I don’t know how to do this without you.”

And still, he waited.

Clinging.

Hoping.

Refusing to let go.

cry every night when i think about, how much i'm losing

The jet began its descent, rain streaking across the windows like the sky itself was mourning.

Inside, silence clung to the air—thick, heavy, reverent.

Hongjoong held San in his arms, cradling him with a tenderness that defied the chaos they had just escaped. Every movement was careful, as if one wrong breath would shatter what little hope remained.

As soon as the jet hovered close enough to the ground, he jumped.

His boots slammed into the wet earth with a jarring thud, knees nearly buckling—not just from San’s weight, but from the ache pressing into his bones. The grief. The guilt. The unspoken fear.

Then his eyes found you.

You were already walking toward them, soaked to the bone, but steady. Purposeful. Like the storm couldn't touch you.

Like the world could fall apart around you, and you’d still come for him.

Behind Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Wooyoung followed in silence. Shadows moving through the storm, eyes trained on San—on you.

The rain poured harder, blurring the lines between tears and sky.

i put my life on it. i lost my life for it. i know that i've got nothing else to give so

Mingi remained in the jet, just steps from the hatch. But he didn’t move.

His shoulders slumped, head bowed, the storm soaking through his clothes. He stared out blankly until he felt a sudden tug on his sleeve.

He turned.

And his breath caught in his throat.

Yunho stood there, holding a Switch controller in one hand. His face calm, almost playful, like he always was before things went wrong.

But it was the outfit that froze Mingi in place—the hoodie, the cargo pants, even the wristband. The same clothes Yunho had worn that night.

The night of the First Light.

“Come on,” Yunho said, voice soft. “One more round.”

Mingi couldn’t answer. He couldn’t move.

The image before him blurred and flickered. His fingers curled into his palms as the memory took over.

They were back in the dorm, laughter echoing through the small space. Yunho sitting cross-legged on the floor, waving the controller with mock arrogance.

“You’re not catching up,” he grinned. “Just give up now.”

Mingi had laughed then—loud, free, unburdened.

But now, standing in the jet soaked in rain and silence, the memory felt like a knife.

He blinked, and Yunho was gone.

Only the controller lay where he’d been standing, resting quietly on the floor.

Mingi reached down with trembling fingers, picking it up like it was a relic from a world that no longer existed.

Behind him, the door to the jet hissed open.

But for just a second longer, Mingi stood there—caught between the past and the present.

Wishing the rain could wash it all away.

come home, come here. come out and let me breathe

Flames engulfed him before he could scream.

Mingi reached out—desperate—for Yunho, who stood just beyond the fire.

Unmoving. Expressionless.

His eyes held no recognition. No warmth. Only silence.

“Yunho!” Mingi choked, stumbling forward, but the heat licked up his arms like it had a mind of its own.

He looked down.

Fire. Crawling over his hands, twisting around his fingers, devouring him piece by piece.

His breath hitched. Panic surged.

“No, no—no!”

He tried to beat the flames down with his hands, but it was no use. The fire wasn’t around him.

It was in him.

come home, come here. come out and let me breathe. just let me breathe

His heart thundered as he turned in place, eyes darting wildly—

The building—their building—was collapsing in the distance, a blackened silhouette against an inferno sky.

What was once their home, their dorm, their sanctuary—was now a smoldering grave.

Screams tore through the chaos—employees, staff, voices he’d known, laughed with, shared meals and moments with.

Gone.

Sirens wailed. Firefighters rushed past him, blurred shapes in the storm of heat and smoke.

But no one saw him.

No one could.

Because he was the fire.

i pray, that my jealousy dont turn into evil.

The flames within him lashed out, fueled by grief, fear, rage. They whipped violently in every direction, sparks catching and rising like shattered stars.

His vision swam.

The world spun.

And through it all, Yunho still stood.

Unburned. Untouched. Watching.

“Mingi…”

Mingi fell to his knees, the fire roaring around him like a beast finally unleashed.

His scream tore from his chest—not just from pain, but from something far deeper. Rage. Guilt. Grief.

Across the flames, Yunho stood still, his figure blurred by heatwaves. His once warm brown eyes now shimmered gold—haunting, unnatural, and full of sorrow.

They both wept.

But neither moved.

Kingdom agents began to surround them, silhouettes in black armor descending through the smoke like reapers.

Their presence didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Mingi’s hands were charred, blistered from the power he couldn’t control, the power that destroyed everything he loved. He stared down at them in horror.

This wasn’t protection.

It was ruin.

He couldn’t feel the heat anymore—only the shame as it sank into his skin, as if trying to brand his guilt into bone.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered, not sure if the words were meant for Yunho, or himself.

Yunho’s lips moved, but no sound reached him. Only tears rolled down his cheeks, mirroring Mingi’s.

And then—

He began to fade.

His form dissolved into light and ash, like a memory slipping through fingers that tried too hard to hold on.

But just before he vanished completely, Yunho’s hand reached out.

Shaking. Open. Grasping.

Mingi didn’t see it.

Didn’t feel it.

Too buried in the wreckage of his guilt to notice the one thing he still had left reaching back.

and i pray, that world doesnt shake up my ego

With each step you took, the ground beneath you shimmered—jade crystals blooming in your wake, pulsing softly with your energy. Rain hissed as it hit their surface, evaporating in wisps of steam.

Your palm rose, glowing with life. The jade swirled around your fingers like a storm contained, responding to the call of your power.

As you reached Hongjoong and San, the world around you shifted.

The blood, the rain, the pain—vanished.

i pray, that my jealousy don't turn into evil

San lay before you now, encased in luminous green crystal, fragile and beautiful like he had been sculpted by the earth itself.

A body waiting to be awakened.

Your eyes locked onto his. Still. Unmoving. But not lost. Not yet.

Your body moved on its own—muscle memory driven by instinct and desperation.

You dropped to your knees, breath trembling, and slammed your hand against the crystal with a guttural scream.

A blinding beam of light erupted from within San’s chest, shooting toward the sky like a flare.

Around you, the world responded.

and i pray, that the world doesn't shake up my ego

Creatures formed from the shadows—snarling, snapping, clawing their way into existence. Born of darkness, forged by the cost of power.

The price of a miracle.

The curse behind the gift.

But you didn’t flinch.

You didn’t move.

Your focus was unshakable, locked on San, on the delicate thread of life you refused to let slip away.

Wooyoung slid in beside you without a word, the heat of his presence anchoring you amidst the chaos.

His bucky roared with every shot, echoing like thunder across the battlefield. Each round turned a creature into smoke and ash, their twisted limbs disintegrating into nothingness.

A grenade danced between his fingers—effortless, familiar.

He tossed it high.

A heartbeat later, the night lit up in a kaleidoscope of color and fire, the explosion painting the shadows in bright, fleeting hues.

And still, you stayed rooted.

Your hand pressed to San. Your power surging.

Your body screaming.

But your heart—unyielding.

i pray

Hongjoong held the odin to one knee, the weight of the gun braced against it.

The roar of gunfire echoed through the storm-soaked air as he unleashed hell on the creatures charging toward him.

Shadow-born horrors screeched and lunged, their forms flickering like flame—but he didn’t waver.

A raw battle cry tore from his throat, fierce and unrelenting.

Each pull of the trigger was fueled by desperation. By purpose.

By the unspoken promise that he would not let them reach you.

He could feel the vibration of each shot in his bones, the kick of the weapon nearly numbing his knee—but he kept going.

One more second. One more breath. Just a little more time.

He would carve a path through hell itself if it meant you could bring San back.

And so he held the line—eyes blazing, heart hammering, the storm around him no match for the fire inside.

my ego

Seonghwa’s eyes burned with fury, glowing a deep, dangerous violet with every soul claimed.

The specter rested against his shoulder like an extension of his rage, pulsing with dark energy as it devoured the creatures that dared to come close.

Each pull of the trigger was precise—merciless.

He moved with practiced grace, a storm of vengeance cloaked in black, clearing a path around you with terrifying efficiency.

His jaw clenched tight, expression carved from stone, but the fire in his eyes told the truth—he was furious.

Not just at the monsters.

At the world. At fate. At the cruelty that nearly stole San from them.

At the toll this was taking on your body, felt it in every strained breath you drew.

that the world doesn't shake up my ego

Pain surged through your body like a storm—sharp, relentless, and unyielding.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring your vision as exhaustion clawed at the edges of your consciousness.

Every breath felt heavier than the last, every heartbeat echoing like a war drum inside your chest.

You could feel it happening—the crystals creeping along your skin, blooming like ice across your arms and collar.

Your gaze drifted to your hands, now pulsing with the unmistakable glow of your power.

Teal light shimmered in your palms, wild and unstable, dancing like lightning under your skin.

But you held on.

Because this was for him.

i pray

Mingi shot up, flames erupting across his body like a second skin.

His eyes locked onto the approaching horde, rage simmering beneath the surface until it cracked wide open.

A primal cry tore from his lips as he hurled a molly forward, the ball of flame spinning through the air before landing.

An eruption of fire swallowed the front line, casting monstrous silhouettes into a blaze of orange and gold.

But his mind wasn’t on the flames.

It was on Yunho.

On the memory that haunted him. On the hand that had reached for him through fire—and slipped away.

that the world doesn't shake up my ego

The beam of light flickered, sputtering with instability—the toll on your body now undeniable.

Your hands trembled as the energy surged, veins glowing faintly beneath your skin.

Still, you pushed harder.

Your eyes flickered—red to teal, teal to red—dancing on the edge of collapse.

The line between life and death blurred before you, whispering temptations in both directions.

The beam began to hum, low and deep, pulsing like a heartbeat not your own.

You hung your head, shoulders slumped as exhaustion wrapped around you like chains, threatening to drag you under.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, you inhaled deeply, steadying yourself.

that the world doesn't shake up my ego

Your eyes snapped open, the teal glow blazing fiercely within them.

A desperate, hopeful scream tore from your lips as you poured every fragment of your strength into the jade crystal beneath your palm.

The beam flickered—wavering like a fragile candle in a storm—then steadied, blossoming into a brilliant circle of radiant light that wrapped around you and San.

A sudden boom cracked through the air, followed by a blinding surge of light that pulsed through the space.

In an instant, the scene shifted—now, you and San lay surrounded by everyone back at the hangar.

A sharp gasp broke the silence as San’s body shifted upward, Wooyoung immediately cupping his face.

Shock and relief crashed over Wooyoung, tears spilling freely down his cheeks.

He pressed gentle, desperate kisses to San’s skin—soft touches heavy with unspoken promises.

San’s fingers twitched weakly but steadily, resting lightly on Wooyoung’s waist.

Their foreheads met, and San offered a fragile, faint smile—small but unmistakably alive.

Nearby, Seonghwa stood silently by your side, his expression weighed down with worry.

Your body trembled uncontrollably, fingers shaking as they brushed against the faint jade crystals forming along your neck.

You closed your eyes, willing your breath to slow, to steady.

Seonghwa’s hand settled gently but firmly on your shoulder—an unspoken anchor amid the chaos.

But you turned away, your free hand reaching out to create space between you.

Seonghwa’s gaze faltered, pain flickering in his eyes—hurt that you kept pushing him away, even when he wanted nothing more than to be near.

Hongjoong sank to his knees, tears streaming freely down his face as the weight of the moment crushed him.

Mingi’s gaze swept over the scene, his expression hardening with quiet resolve.

His eyes found Jongho and Yeosang standing vigil by the jet—silent, steadfast.

A subtle nod passed between them—no words needed, just understanding.

Mingi returned the gesture, then shifted his gaze to the taller man approaching the group.

The golden hue in the man’s eyes shone brightly, making Mingi’s stomach flip with a mix of dread and recognition.

that the world doesn't shake up my ego

taglist: @soso59love-blog @yeosionist @bbokarismeow @moonlitcelestial @sunnysidesins

[twigbranch4556]

It's a couple of lads with truama!!

They're both handling it very well. I'm sure

[craving-for-chaos]

Sage and the pressure she's under

Y'know, something interesting I noticed while scouring agent voicelines—as I do—is the way the other agents talk to and about Sage. What really got me thinking about this was Waylay's voiceline about her: "Their Sage is good, but she is so stiff! I just wanna go over there and shake some fun into that girl."

One could argue that this is in reference to Omega Earth's Sage, who seems to be more ruthless than Alpha Earth's, but I feel like that doesn't hold up considering this could be said by Waylay regardless of whether she's attacking or defending. Technicalities aside, though, I got curious, and noticed that the other agents seem to (intentionally or not) place Sage on a pedestal.

I've mentioned in a past post that Sage has a very noticeable tendency to take on more responsibility than she should, which is very evident in the way she talks to the other agents and about herself. A few examples:

"I will defend you all with my power and with my life." "I wasn't strong enough before. But now, now I am strong enough for us all." "I will do anything for you all. I will subvert the flow, I will hold back the tides." "I will hold up the sky." "Trust in my healing."

Now, a lot of her voicelines are very team-oriented; encouraging other agents, boosting morale, highlighting teamwork, rallying cries, etc. I suppose these lines I quoted could be her attempt at reassuring her team and reaffirming trust, right? It's still a bit concerning, but maybe it's nothing all that deep.

And then I looked at what the other agents say to her. Most of the time, agents will get a wide range of voicelines about them, anything from wariness, to playful and impressed compliments, to talking about plans for off-field activities. Sage should be no different...except that she is.

One glaring common thread that nearly all of the ally voicelines toward her share is expectation.

Astra is quite literally the only one who doesn't have a single line putting pressure of some sort on Sage. Other than her, every agent talks about/to Sage almost like she isn't human, or like she's above them somehow. Most often, when agents compliment or commend her, there's either a sense of awe or lack of surprise. It's not like they're saying, "Woah, that was cool, good job!" It's more like, "Wow, how are you real?" or "You were incredible—just as I knew you would be."

Here are some examples to hopefully make my point a bit clearer:

"Sage, you're working miracles." "So, Sage. You can bring people back from the dead? Anyone? No constraints? Interesting." "Sage, you are truly limitless." "Glad you're here Sage. With you we can't lose!" "Everyone just learnt what I already knew; you're wild Sage!" "Damn, Sage, you do everything. Why are the rest of us even here?" "Sage, "healer," what an understatement."

Even when they AREN'T commending her, there's this strange trend of the other agents still placing responsibility on her, whether that means literally ordering her to help them or reminding her that she is meant to be a powerful leader. Again, some examples:

"Sage, if I die out there, you're in charge. Someone has to look after these knuckleheads." "Sage. Keep me alive. I still have things to do." "Stay sharp, you don't get a second chance in combat, unless Sage is involved." "Lead the way, Sage." "Keep those heals comin'!" "It is strange, Sage. Where I'm from, you're no medic, only a weapon." "Yo, doc! Keep us topped up!" "Sage, let's keep everyone alive." "Sage, protect the others." "Sage, you're the only one who can keep us alive. Don't fail us now like you failed me then." "Show me what you got, Sage." "Stand strong, Sage."

To be clear, I'm sure some of these are meant to be playful and innocuous! But even with that in mind, it doesn't change the fact that almost every single agent treats her as "other." More often than not, she's reduced to her radiant abilities, and even when she isn't, she's shoved into the role of "strong, reliable leader." They don't treat her like just any agent, they treat her like she's a symbol, or something akin to it.

She's there to heal them, to support them, to lead them. It's not about who Sage is or what she wants, it's about what she can do, it's about the role she plays in the Protocol. It's almost worse that so many of these voicelines are thoughtless, because that means that this is such a deeply ingrained opinion that the other agents don't even consciously think about it. It's just a fact in their subconscious.

When everyone talks to and about her that way, it's easy to see how the others are likely reinforcing her savior complex. Even her voicemails to Brimstone (there are only two) are about OTHER PEOPLE. In the first she talks about approaching Deadlock with an offer to heal her arm, and in the second she talks about empathizing with Omen and wanting to help him. She even explicitly says, "If I know his pain, maybe I can heal it."

Every single thing she does is for the sake of others. She's genuinely afraid of not being enough for them, and that's just...painful. Hell, even in the Die For You music video her worst fear is implied to be losing the ability to heal and therefore being useless to her teammates. And then what does she do? Heal Brimstone and run straight into enemy fire.

Going back to Waylay's voiceline about her, though, it somewhat surprised me that someone is acknowledging/noticing how stressed Sage is all the time. It's not the first time someone has, as Astra has a voiceline saying, "Mad love, Sage. Come on, girl. That win's gotta be worth a smile!" and Skye also tells the others to bother her instead of Sage, but still.

Anyway, this is just my interpretation and analysis of things, of course, but I thought I would share my findings. Justice for Sage :(

[caramel1mochi]

ㅤㅤPlasma [ Yoru x F! Reader ] [2] [ part 1 / part 2 ] words: 4.5k / Please refrain from stealing my work.

ㅤIt's known that earning Yoru's attention is a futile struggle. Still, the first to achieve it is you — a woman who plans for nothing beyond the optimal spot to doze off.ㅤ

note: This part contains two premium scenes! This emoji 🔆 is where the scenes would take place. Available on my Kofi for tier one and above, hehe

It didn’t take long before you all finally arrived at the base. Fortunately, by the time the vehicle landed, Iso’s body was now capable of healing itself without your help anymore, and the curse on Clove’s bones seemed to be stagnant. All the while Omen suffered no effects from everything that had just occurred.

Perks of being a wraith, right? Or something like that.

With Sage's reassurance, you would potentially get examined, pulled aside to fill out some forms then finally be integrated in the protocol with a codename of your own. From the way she described it, it didn't sound like a very complicated process. Which was very amiss for a so-called covert protocol who were pretty much your enemies twenty minutes ago.

Things seemed to be looking up, you mused.

But just as you stepped foot outside of the vehicle, not only did the afternoon sun pierce your eyes like arrows, but you were met with a group of at least a dozen people… who all had their rifles aimed at you.

What a greeting, huh?

Suddenly you questioned their claims about how friendly the members of this Valorant thing were.

ㅤㅤ

“Who's this, exactly?”

ㅤㅤ

One green-eyed woman hissed before you could take in their appearances. Sage, however, emerged from within the aircraft, and just her presence loosened their grips on their weaponry

ㅤㅤ

“Viper, please, put down the guns! This is our new recruit!”

ㅤㅤ

You expected the expression of wrath to ease, but it wasn’t. In fact, given the look of surprised followed with anger as she glanced at the healer, it let you know her words made things worse.

ㅤㅤ

“Excuse me? I don’t remember giving you the authority to recruit agents on the spot, Sage.”

ㅤㅤ

Viper uttered her name with a certain amount of vitriol.

Then, a much larger hand landed on her shoulder, and all of your eyes were instead locked on a massive burly man with a peculiar orange beret. He triumphed over the chemist with ease in terms of both height and muscle. Despite all of this, however, he was clearly much less intimidating than her by appearance and posture alone.

ㅤㅤ

“Calm down, Sabine. I’m sure Sage had a good reason.”

ㅤㅤ

Sage nodded, relieved at his words.

ㅤㅤ

“The radiants the Scions of Hourglass recruited were incredibly dangerous; we would’ve suffered heavy losses without her. Besides,” she glanced at you with a warm smile, “she’s Iso’s friend. She can help us uncover more about them.”

ㅤㅤ

Viper promptly stared at you with narrow eyes. Her unchanged posture was enough indication that she wasn't phased by Sage's hopeful words in the slightest.

And despite seeing what was practically the worst of the worst, you felt a bit uneasy being ruthlessly scrutinised like this by who seemed to be their superior. So much for a more 'merciful' protocol. Viper was just like one of your superiors, only she didn't hide behind dozens of appearances and fake names to give out cruel orders.

Your train of thought burst once she suddenly put down her weapon.

Everyone put down their own guns with a wave of her hand. Then, she took a step forward, moving closer towards you. With every step, Viper's heels sharply clicked against the porcelain ground you all stood on. Her glare remained unyielding, and her grip on her pistol grew firmer.

ㅤㅤ

“I'm impressed this one managed to gain the trust of our most indispensable assets within...” she stopped and gave you a once-over, “a few hours.”

ㅤㅤ

You were taken aback by her description of Sage. But before any of you could bite back, the larger man stepped up and swiftly interrupted, his tone much louder and friendlier than hers.

ㅤㅤ

"Alright, listen, let's save this chit-chat for later and focus on what's important."

ㅤㅤ

"Of course... I should be taking care of Clove, after all."

ㅤㅤ

You were surprised Brimstone had the guts to say something like that while the rest hadn't dared utter a single sound. Nevertheless, Brim and Sage's attempts to take Viper's attention away from you were in vain. Her eyes still drilled through yours with an unfathomable amount of malice.

Unfathomable to others, of course. This look was very familiar to you.

ㅤㅤ

"I'll handle Sage. Brim, you'll be taking care of our guest."

It wasn't a suggestion, that much could be inferred.

However, you couldn't help but notice how everyone's expressions slightly shifted at this, some more obviously uncomfortable than others. And you also couldn't help but wonder what she meant by 'handling' Sage. Was she going to cut down her rations, or something? Perhaps restrict water and make her train vehemently for hours. Or maybe even public shaming, that sounded like something this green-eyed woman would do.

You smiled fondly at the punishments as they ran through your mind. Did you have a right to say 'good old days' already? You only left a few minutes ago.

You weren't really given the pleasure of seeing the events unfold, not since you were pulled aside in a pristine office with Brimstone. And so far, his questions seemed to fit Sage's words back in the aircraft.

He only asked for basic information. Your age, height, name, and abilities; nothing really about the Scions of Hourglass.

The conversation between you two was calm and, admittedly, unremarkable. In fact, your little brain got more dopamine out of simply inspecting your surroundings. There were charming pictures both hung on the walls and framed on the sturdy wooden desk in front of you, dog tags next to a laptop, a bulletin board cluttered with papers and pictures, even a little CD player on the side.

It was cute.

It was also a massive contrast to the argument you could hear just outside in the hallways. Well, you couldn't exactly hear it. Their words were muffled just enough to be inaudible mumbling. And the remarkable silence in the room only helped magnify the volume of their voices. Even with his questions and the new environment, your mind simply honed on the two women outside.

Was this on purpose? If so, then maybe you were right about that public shaming thing.

Huh.

ㅤㅤ

"What were you thinking, recruiting an enemy like that?"

ㅤㅤ

Viper questioned through gritted teeth, her fists clenched. And while Sage was clearly shaken up by this, her desire to defend her choices overwhelmed her thought process first.

Being in a dreary plain hallway made predominantly of metal, their voices loudly echoing throughout the constricted area, and the lights that hung above that emitted a lifeless glow — all of it contributed to the anxiety that stemmed from arguing with someone like Viper.

ㅤㅤ

"Viper, you don't understand, the damage they've done is irreversible! Clove could still very much be cursed, I–"

ㅤㅤ

"Iso's recruitment in and of itself was a misstep." Viper interrupted. "He only joined to kill Omen; how do you know she's not the same?"

ㅤㅤ

"I assure you, she's not! She has more reasons to go against them than to obey them!"

ㅤㅤ

Sage explained delicately as she took a step forward, both of her hands clasped together. However, her boss could only callously wave her off. Her tone grew harsher with each word, and at this point, she struggled to find reasons to keep Sage around.

Of course, that only applied if Viper wasn't only second-in-command.

ㅤㅤ

"The only reason Iso defected at all is because he happened to be sensitive. What do you think he would've done if he wasn't?!"

ㅤㅤ

"Iso and Clove both would've died if she hadn't alerted us to their state. Viper, I'm sorry but I don't think you understand the magnitude of the situation!"

ㅤㅤ

"Yes. Those two could've died because they were exposed to a rank we were unprepared for — the same rank from which you recruited a member."

ㅤㅤ

"Would you have preferred I let everyone die?!"

ㅤㅤ

Sage's desperation reached higher levels, evident in the slight shakiness of her high-pitched voice, but Viper remained unphased.

As per usual.

ㅤㅤ

"I would've preferred you not be negligent for once!" She stopped herself, promptly sighing and pinching her nose bridge. "I should've known better."

ㅤㅤ

For a moment, there was only silence; all Viper could do was lean on the nearby wall as she gathered her thoughts. And at this point, she heavily regretted not handling you whilst Brimstone dealt with Sage. Hoping to calm her thoughts, Sage opened her mouth to speak−

Then, the door swung open, swiftly interrupting their argument.

The two women didn't even need to look at the figure itself to recognise who it was, considering his massive shadow that concealed a quarter of the hallway's walls.

ㅤㅤ

"Sabine. You're gonna wanna see this."

ㅤㅤ

"What is it? Did she try something?"

ㅤㅤ

Viper's hand fell to her sides, and she turned around to meet his gaze, but the unconcerned look on his face said otherwise. A massive contrast to the chemist herself.

Brimstone couldn't help but chuckle.

ㅤㅤ

"No, it's just her powers. She controls blood... and there's some physiology jargon I don't get along with."

ㅤㅤ

He explained as he slowly stroked his beard.

Brimstone's voice had a softer lilt, he spoke at a much lower volume; Sage couldn't help but be pleased at this given that her throat began to strain from the argument. That, and the ringing in her ears. It was almost as aggravating as the unbearable beeps of a spike preceding its explosion. Including the unfathomable dread she'd feel.

Viper stared at him in silence, presumably looking over the situation. Or just to understand what the heck he meant by that. He couldn't be any less clear if he tried.

With a sigh, she glanced back at Sage, her hand held out.

ㅤㅤ

"Give me your gun."

ㅤㅤ

"There's really no need for–"

ㅤㅤ

"I wasn't asking."

ㅤㅤ

Viper bit back with gritted teeth, swiftly shutting her up. So, with a sigh, Sage took out her Sheriff and reluctantly placed it in her impatient boss's palm.

Gun in hand, Viper marched inside Brimstone's office with both of the superiors behind her.

It took Iso a while to finally come out of his room and sit amongst the others in the lobby. And for the first thirty minutes, it was considerably empty. This unexpected stillness allowed him to simply relax on the comfortable sofa as he scrolled through a few dozen atmospheric songs to help calm him down — even though he had his earphones on and the battery was at 60%.

For a moment, the few people in the lobby minded their own business. This allowed Iso the time he needed to look over the situation without a clouded mind.

His mind was stuck on the mission and you.

To say he felt guilty at practically deserting you at the Scions would be a vast understatement. The second he handed Omen his phone to show him the mission was when he should've also alerted them about you. But he wasn't sure why he didn't. It's not like he had forgotten about you like everything else, but–

Iso flinched once the couch suddenly dipped on his right, and his eyes locked on a very familiar Scot who plopped themselves down directly next to him. Despite being a quarter of his size, the couch was compressed before forming back to its original shape once it adjusted to their weight.

Clove made themselves comfortable before resting one arm on the backrest of the couch, their big eyes glimmering as they glanced at Iso.

ㅤㅤ

"So, Zhao Yu, aye?"

ㅤㅤ

...

ㅤㅤ

"Huh? Oh, yeah. My name." He returned to scrolling. "You can call me Yu, though."

ㅤㅤ

"Really? But I've nae seen yer friend call you that."

ㅤㅤ

Clove asked with a tilt of their head, and Iso shrugged.

ㅤㅤ

"I tried telling her. Once."

ㅤㅤ

This statement made them pause. However, as they looked over what the heck he meant by that, the two didn't notice a figure peer over both of their shoulders.

ㅤㅤ

"So, Iso…"

ㅤㅤ

A high-pitched voice from behind them interrupted their short-lived conversation, and the duo looked over to see both Jett and Neon leaning on the backrest of the couch, their eyes locked on the hitman.

Iso quickly gave the room a once over. Wasn't it empty just a few minutes prior, with the exception of maybe Raze and Killjoy?

ㅤㅤ

"You didn’t tell us you had a friend from where you worked."

ㅤㅤ

Jett started, earning an eye roll from Neon.

ㅤㅤ

"Seriously. No offence, but from what you said back there, we all thought you were a lone-wolf, or whatever."

ㅤㅤ

After what felt like millennia, Iso finally settled on a song without lyrics to help him focus. He tapped on it and promptly pocketed his phone, finally meeting their gazes.

ㅤㅤ

"Technically, I worked alone. She was just my assigned healer."

ㅤㅤ

"Assigned healer!" Jett blurted out, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "You mean you had your very own medic to heal you after your missions?"

ㅤㅤ

"That’s, uh, one way to put it."

ㅤㅤ

"You had your own private healer? Sounds lavish, ja?"

ㅤㅤ

The duo jumped once another voice popped up from behind, and they looked over to see Killjoy leaning on the armrest. The one person Iso wasn't surprised to see.

The three women that surrounded them all bore that same look of excited curiosity. After all, the younglings suffered from a disease called 'being too expressive', and it was bloody obvious they were about to ask every question in the book to learn about you.

Clove couldn't help but lean towards Iso as their eyes jumped from one eager agent to the next.

ㅤㅤ

"Iso, we're getting surrounded."

ㅤㅤ

Iso replied with a light and awkward chuckle. However, before he could respond, Neon suddenly interrupted their would-be conversation with her own question.

ㅤㅤ

"Sige, chika! What's she like? Are you guys actually friends, or it's just that formal crap? How'd you two meet?" <Come on, let's gossip!>

ㅤㅤ

Neon spoke very fast. Almost too quick for him to keep up, but he managed to pick out the important words in her sentence.

ㅤㅤ

"Uh, no, we're friends; I've known her for a while... She's pretty cool." He shrugged. "But I don't remember how we met."

ㅤㅤ

"Lame. You don't remember anything."

ㅤㅤ

Jett grumbled. Clove, however, noticed Iso's very subtle yet uncomfortable reaction to her statement.

ㅤㅤ

"I'd kill to meet her. Hoy, where'd they say she was, again?"

ㅤㅤ

"I heard she's still with Viper. Do you think she's grilling her like she grilled Iso?"

ㅤㅤ

The others exchanged hums and looks of agreement. And because of this, the conversation continued between them, now discussing how they thought the Scions of Hourglass functioned and your role within it. But Iso was clearly and silently displeased at Killjoy's 'grill' comment. He only watched them converse in silence, after all, a slight furrow of his brow being the only indication of such a thing.

For once, however, there was only one person who noticed the aggravation in Iso — Clove glanced at him for a moment before they laid their head on his shoulder.

This gesture served as a successful attempt to ground and calm him. He couldn't help but lightly smile at this, allowing his mind to drift back to the conversation between the group.

Fade was one of the ones who had their guns pointed at you back there. And unlike the other new agents, all whom she utterly disregarded due to their uninteresting personalities, you caught her eye... Really caught her eye.

From the moment you stepped out of the helicopter, Fade couldn’t take her eyes off of you. Your skin, despite most of it being concealed by the robes you wore, was as pale as a bone. And the midnight blue robes only brought out how malnourished you looked.

And your hair?

She loved the way it fell on your shoulders. Almost like wilted flowers that framed one half of your fatigued face while concealing the other with curls that could hardly hold themselves up. If death itself took on the appearance of a woman, she was sure you'd be the result. Her curiosity and desire to seek you out dictated all of her following actions. Which is why she was so willing to wait a few hours until your little talking session with her superiors was finally over.

In fact, she couldn't help but manipulate her essence of raw fear to isolate your location the moment she heard you were finally let go. Nobody knew where you were. But in more ways than one, the nightmare agent was an outlier from the rest.

She marched down the empty hallways as the whispers and shadows guided her to you.

And she found you; you were sitting under the gazebo in the courtyard. Chin on your hand, eyes closed, she wouldn’t have thought twice about you being dead if it weren’t for the rising motion of your chest as you breathed.

Well, that’s really her problem for associating so many things with death. Death, death, death.

Fade marched towards the gazebo and stopped in front of you, her shadow completely engulfing your figure. And yet, you hadn’t noticed the silent Turk. Her steps were impressively quiet, and the only thing that gave away her presence was the coldness emitted from her silhouette.

ㅤㅤ

“Hey.”

ㅤㅤ

Fade's sharp voice broke the previously tranquil silence. You barely lifted your eyelids to meet her gaze. But even with the sun, it was hard to outline her features in such darkness. Fade looked like an extension of the shadows.

She promptly crossed her arms.

ㅤㅤ

“I'm impressed you haven't been found yet.”

ㅤㅤ

At this point, opening your mouth to even reply felt like lifting twelve full suitcases with one hand. But alas, you had to.

ㅤㅤ

“You Valorant soldiers get impressed easily.”

ㅤㅤ

"Ha. Soldiers? Really? You're being too kind."

ㅤㅤ

"So what are you?"

ㅤㅤ

"Me? I'm amazing. Though, I'm not too sure about the others."

ㅤㅤ

You unwittingly tittered at her remark. The sound was unnatural coming out of you. But lord knows you couldn't help yourself, especially not in the face of such a bold woman.

You glanced up at her with a half-smile.

ㅤㅤ

"You know what? I l−"

ㅤㅤ

"I know you do. But for the sake of formalities... thanks."

ㅤㅤ

...

ㅤㅤ

"How did you know what I wanted to say?"

ㅤㅤ

Fade eyed the pearly white bench behind her, the one opposite to you. She promptly sat and made herself comfortable. Then, she glanced at you, a mischievous smile lifting the corner of her black lips.

ㅤㅤ

"I read your mind. Nothing special."

ㅤㅤ

...Wow, you thought to yourself. She really was something else, wasn't she?

However, once she sat down, you finally caught a glimpse of her own set of breath-taking features. Fade's voluminous hair transitioned from a rich black at the top to a bold grey, and that wasn't to mention her unique makeup. It definitely reminded you of something you couldn't put your finger on. Nevertheless, in the same way you hypnotised her, she did the same to you, and you couldn't help but observe those eyes she bore.

One brown, one blue — both competed for your attention and dared you to look away. Other than Iso, this was the first agent you genuinely wanted to speak to.

With all of the scraps of energy you could muster up, you sat up, reclining on the benches.

ㅤㅤ

“What’s your name?”

ㅤㅤ

“Fade. Yours?”

ㅤㅤ

“Y/N. What do you do?”

ㅤㅤ

“I have a lot to do with intuition. Getting into people’s heads, seeing their primal fears, secrets and everything else. It’s hard to hide things from me.”

ㅤㅤ

You half-smiled in response. Your old bosses would've exploited the heck out of her powers. Getting into people's heads? Absolute goldmine.

ㅤㅤ

“Tight. Are you in mine?”

ㅤㅤ

“Working on it. So, Y/N,” she reclined and rested her arm on the back of the bench, further making herself comfortable, “tell me a little bit about yourself. How come you know Iso and this pitiful organisation? And what do you, exactly?”

ㅤㅤ

You averted your gaze to the porcelain flooring, remembering how you got in. But it's not like it was an arduous task; you just spent the past hour or however long recalling everything you could when Viper questioned you earlier. It was a long, and, as you’d say, dumb story. Mostly because you were an incredibly lovestruck girl with radiant powers that just began emerging in your teen years.

Could you even be bothered to explain everything…?

ㅤㅤ

“I control blood. And I joined cus my boyfriend lied to me. Iso joined cus he was a kid.”

ㅤㅤ

Now that Iso wasn’t here, you were free to somewhat talk about this without making him anxious.

ㅤㅤ

“You control blood, and all you can do is heal? That doesn’t add up.“

ㅤㅤ

Word for word what Viper said, you noted in your mind.

ㅤㅤ

“Yup. Cus my powers are disabled.”

ㅤㅤ

She laughed at this, though it was more so a laughter of disbelief than anything else.

ㅤㅤ

“You can’t permanently disable a radiant’s abilities. It’s just not possible.”

ㅤㅤ

“You can if they’re developing.”

ㅤㅤ

“Okay, how did they do it? Did they attach a chip in you, or use some kind of suppression field?”

ㅤㅤ

You had no idea what she meant by a suppression field. Or chip. So you shrugged.

ㅤㅤ

"Dunno, they hired a load of scientists and they did their work."

ㅤㅤ

She nodded with a hum.

ㅤㅤ

“Have you told Viper about all of this?”

ㅤㅤ

“She offered to revert it.”

ㅤㅤ

“And?”

ㅤㅤ

“Dunno. Haven’t decided.”

ㅤㅤ

Fade tilted her head. Clearly, this surprised her as much as it surprised Viper and Sage. And Brimstone.

ㅤㅤ

“Is that seriously something you have to think about?”

ㅤㅤ

“Yup.”

ㅤㅤ

“Why?”

ㅤㅤ

“I don’t wanna learn anything new.”

ㅤㅤ

Fade stared at you for a few seconds, lightly swinging her leg back and forth as she went over what you said. And she couldn't decipher what on Earth you meant. No matter how she framed it.

After all, who would pass up on the opportunity to be able to finally access every aspect of their powers? Especially a late bloomer like yourself.

ㅤㅤ

“I can’t make sense of what you’re trying to get at, Y/N.”

ㅤㅤ

“Can’t you get in my head?”

ㅤㅤ

You noted the surprise on her face judging by the way her eyes slightly widened, and the subtle parting of her lips. It was a bold statement. Clearly, you meant it, your stony face conveying just as much.

Fade cracked a smile once more, amusement now etched all over her features.

ㅤㅤ

“Are you giving me permission?”

ㅤㅤ

You lazily lifted a hand and flashed her a thumbs up. And Fade stared at you for a few seconds, attempting to understand if this was a joke or not.

She secretly probed your brain throughout this whole conversation. Nothing special, she did this with everyone, even if it was an unconscious habit on her side. However, she knew if any one of the others found out, they'd definitely make a scene.

But you were okay with it. Which was perfect.

With this confirmation from you, it allowed her to pick up the painfully slow pace and freely dig into your brain. And, to her surprise, she couldn’t really find anything too debilitating.

Sure, you were just as traumatised as Iso no question as to how she knows that, but she couldn’t find anything intense within you. Not depression, not an overwhelming sense of anger, no lust for revenge, nothing. Heck, even the satisfaction of some of your old superiors being dead was naught.

Nothing but the strong desire to... what was it, be still?  It was something stagnant. Idle.

Whatever it was, matched the words you were saying, that’s for sure.

ㅤㅤ

“I’m sensing a detached energy from you.” She paused. “You want to relax? Is that it?”

ㅤㅤ

You replied with a thumbs up again. And Fade was delighted at her correct assumption.

She saw a bit more as she continued observing your brain. It wasn’t anything different from what you said; invasive experiments, different labs, scientists…

But Fade quickly stopped once she saw you shouting at a particular lilac-eyed child, presumably twelve, calling him a thief as you were held down by multiple people and forced to draw your own blood. Jesus, you were way angrier than she thought.

She suddenly shook her head like an irritated cat once she saw one specific memory. It took her a moment to come back from it no thanks to the ringing in her ears.

Fade glanced at you.

ㅤㅤ

“You can’t… naturally draw blood?”

ㅤㅤ

You shook your head. And Fade processed the situation.

This didn’t add up. Why did you undergo so many experiments to prevent you from fully accessing your abilities while the rest were free to make people brain dead within thirty seconds, or curse bones to form holes, or control bloody minds?

Why were you an outlier?

…

It clicked when she saw a few more memories, and a look of realisation painted her previously blank expression.

ㅤㅤ

"Do you understand why they suppressed you specifically, Y/N?"

ㅤㅤ

"I was a bratty kid. Could be that."

ㅤㅤ

You noted with a shrug, earning a smug smile form her. Bratty is an… well, after what she saw? It's not the word she'd use, that's for sure.

ㅤㅤ

“You don’t understand how devastating blood magic can be, do you?”

ㅤㅤ

Given that the sun mostly shined upon you while she herself was engulfed in darkness, she easily noticed the very slight raise of your eyebrow. Enough to indicate you were either curious, or confused.

ㅤㅤ

“My partners are worse.”

ㅤㅤ

Fade cackled at this, her laughter laced with innocent villainy.

ㅤㅤ

“Do you know just how much damage you can cause with these powers, Y/N? Do you know how many lives you can take with just a wave of your hand?” She tucked away a few strands of her black hair, allowing only her brown eye to be visible to you. “Blood is just like fear; you’ll find it in every single living being. And if you control it? You control everything.” 

ㅤㅤ

You stared at her for a few seconds as you processed her words.

To her, you had basically won the radiant ability lottery. But to you? Well…

ㅤㅤ

“I don’t wanna control everything.”

ㅤㅤ

“Why not? Too much responsibility?”

ㅤㅤ

"I dunno. Starting all over sounds like work." You noted. "I don't like work."

ㅤㅤ

For a moment, there was only silence as she pondered over what you said. You weren't lying when you said you wanted to relax. But still, this desire seemed to stand in the way of — what she considered — powers with vast potential.

But it wasn't hard to see why you weren't convinced; after all, not only were you a late bloomer, you weren't even able to draw an adequate amount of blood.

Fade promptly leaned forward, resting both arms on her lap as she stared right through you; a mischievous glint in her visible eye.

ㅤㅤ

“Okay. You can stay as our healer and only draw a few pitiful drops of blood. But when you’re alone, weaponless, and surrounded, wouldn’t you want maybe… a blood weapon? A blood barrier?” She tilted her head. “Control over other peoples' blood?”

ㅤㅤ

You paused.

This made you remember the altercation you had with Iso, the entire reason you were defenceless when he finally got to you. You had just drawn blood moments prior, and thus, couldn't take out anymore until a few minutes had passed. But even if you managed to get blood, again, you weren’t capable of forming things beyond keys or whatever the heck couldn’t be used as a weapon.

And now that she said it out loud, it sounded pretty cool to be able to create barriers out of your own blood... without any drawbacks, probably.

So, you shrugged again.

ㅤㅤ

“K. I’m convinced.”

ㅤㅤ

“Finally. See, I knew you were smart. You'd have to wait until your files are processed, but it's a start."

ㅤㅤ

Fade noted as she pondered, her eyes locked on the porcelain floor. The visible one, anyway. And for a moment, you wondered what this entailed. Being free of your restrictions and being able to… Wait, besides the barriers, what'd she say? Make blood weapons? You quickly thought of making a spear. That would be so wicked, you thought.

Suddenly, she stood up, catching you off guard.

ㅤㅤ

“Enough talk — it's about time I introduced you to the clowns I work with. What do you say?”

ㅤㅤ

She held her hand out to you.

You stared at her palm, your eyes following the intricate designs that gently enveloped it. A pattern just as mysterious as the woman who created it.

With a smile, you slowly took her hand and stood up, promptly following her.

🔆 (1, 2)

[12g4ugegirl]

Onding. (Sova x Reader)

Summary: You wake at an odd hour to Sova not there. It takes some convincing to get him back to bed but reader eventually does.

Genre: Light fluff, light angst?

Pronouns: NONE

Word Count: 1.4k

CW: I don't think there is anything? (if there is smthn lmk)

A/N: I love wintry men. First fic in a LONG time bear with me. also lmk if you want more I have more ideas for a plot line for this ehe.

You woke softly, reaching a hand behind you, patting the still-warm space. It was cold without him. You let out a small groan, gripping at the fleece blanket to try and absorb more of its warmth, it wasn’t enough. You blink slowly trying to convince the weariness of sleep to leave you, at least for now. It’s still dark. The pale lonely moon staring down at you from the window. You rolled over to where he should have been, his empty pillow and the comforter lovingly bundled around you. You let out a small sigh, turning back and looking at the window.

It was snowing.

It wasn’t a heavy storm, a light dancing snow decorated the treeline below the moon. You rolled over once again, facing the closet. The small hearth in the corner of your shared bedroom flickering dimly. You nodded to yourself, your eyes still protesting being open. You forced yourself up, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and checking the time, 3:42 am. You rubbed the side of your face, stretching your eyelid. Your feet slid into your woolen slippers, shedding the warmth of the fleece and comforter. You shivered as you stood, holding your elbows as you grabbed a fluffy robe draped on the closet door, wrapping it around yourself. You clenched your robe close to you as you began to walk around, peeking out of the bedroom. The hallway was dimly lit, fading light erupting from the large fireplace in the living room. Your hand slid across the wall as you approached the warm glow. You checked the corners of the living room as your hand hit the threshold. You saw him, Slightly right of the doorway, a tall figure stood in front of the kitchen sink, hunched over, staring out the window. You took a couple of steps forward before calling his name quietly.

“Sasha?”

You peeped. He didn’t turn to you. You exhaled through your nose in a sort of sigh. You shuffled up to him, your slippers dragging against the wood grain. Your hand lightly rested on his bare shoulder. He had slept in a white beater and a pair of long flannel pants. He was much better accustomed to Russian winter than you were. His gaze intently focused on the treeline, watching, waiting. He had the gaze of a hunter as he watched, his prosthetic eye glowing dimly in the moonlit kitchen.

“Sasha”

You called quietly next to him, your hand lightly rubbing up his shoulder and to his back, your eyes leaving him to watch the tree line.

“I know, ласточка, I know.”

When you turned back to him, his gaze was soft, his attention on your features, on you. You held his gaze briefly before that sweet goofy smile crept across his face. His posture has straightened from how he had hunched over, staring at the trees past the property. He was calm again. You knew the look he had in his eyes.

“Sasha-”

He had pounced on you. Muscular forearms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the floor and spinning you in a subtle bear hug. He held you close to him, his joyful chuckle escaping his throat. Something that made you smile as you reciprocated. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders as he adjusted his grip to hold you more comfortably. You cupped his jawline, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His face lit up, pink dusting his pale complexion in the moonlight. You giggled, watching him get flustered from something so small. Your thumb ran over his cheekbone, feeling the divot his scars left.

“Come back to bed, please?”

You whispered. He smiled at you, his eyes squinting with his smile. His silken blonde hair fell over his shoulders giving him an angelic glow in the moonlight. Your eyes are desperate to grasp, to hold every moment of him in your memory.

“Soon, ласточка.”

He nodded, setting you on your feet. You kept your hands on his face, stealing a quick kiss from him. The pink dusting across his cheeks and the tips of his ears grew more vibrant. He didn’t know how to react. Cute, you thought, releasing him from your icy grip. He ran his hand along the backside of his neck, glancing back to the window. You frowned at his almost longing look. He was worried.

“Work again, Sasha?”

You interrupt his thoughts, his gaze jumping over to you. He nods sheepishly.

“I know you can’t talk about what you do Sasha, but it’ll be okay.”

You ran a hand over his forearm, leaning your head against his shoulder as you tried to deduce what was out in the woods.

“I’m sorry, ласточка.”

He mutters, his arm wrapping over your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. You nuzzle your head against him,

“It’s okay Sasha,”

You reassure him, taking his hand in yours, and giving his larger hand a little squeeze. He nods, clearly wanting to say something, but keeping his mouth shut. You followed his gaze out once again to the snow-dusted woods. You couldn’t see it in this weather but you knew out there was a mountain, one Sasha warned you of several times. You tipped your head, looking up at him, the blue glow ever striking now. You didn’t want to disturb him, he was deeply focused. You stared with him, out that window at the light snow, the dusting piling up on the outside of the pane, briefly losing yourself in the piling snow. You felt a kiss gently pressed to the top of your head, an exceedingly delicate kiss. You turned your head to Sasha, his gaze solely on you now.

“Ready to go back to bed now?”

You whispered, a smile reaching your lips once more. Sleepiness was creeping back into the space behind your eyelids.

“Yes, ласточка.”

He nodded, and an equally warm smile was returned. You wrap your arm around his own, leading him away from the window and down the hall. He follows along like a large puppy, keeping up with your pace with his longer strides. Dragging him into your shared bedroom, you ditch the larger robe, flopping down onto the bed with a contented sigh. Sasha follows suit, waiting for you to roll over to your side of the bed before falling onto the bed. You laugh as he rolls over to look at you. You brush his silken blonde strands from his face, his awkward little smile awaiting you. You exhale through your nose with a little smile in response. Before long his arms wrap around your midsection, pulling you to him. His face is buried in your chest, your hands playing with his long platinum hair.

“Sasha,”

You chimed softly in a sing-song voice, his arms pulling you tightly to him.

“Ласточка.” 

He mumbled into your chest.

“Hm?”

You hummed, still running your fingers through his long hair.

“I love you, ласточка”

He didn’t look up to you, his face still hidden in your form.

“I love you too, Саша”

An attempt to pronounce his name closer to his home language.

“Promise me you won’t let anyone in when I’m not home, ласточка”

A common demand of his, reasonable though, you thought. His line of work wasn’t the greatest, one of a more military background. He had a lot of enemies, he wanted you to be safe.

“Yes, Sasha, I promise.”

You chuckled, stroking his hair as he held you close. He nuzzled his face deeper into your chest.

“Even if they look like me, ласточка”

“Mhm”

You hummed, your finger twirling his hair as sleep slowly crept over your gaze, you didn’t quite catch the last thing he said.

“Ласточка, promise me, please.”

You blinked wearily.

“Yes, Sasha, I promise.”

You mused in your sleep-polluted headspace, your eyes fluttering open and shut, your hand still intertwined with his pale blonde hair. You adjusted, resting your cheek on his scalp with a contented sigh. You got one last glimpse of the tall Russian holding you, his fair coloring accentuated under the moonlight. His grip is firm and protective, unwaveringly loyal. A little smile crept across your face as you drifted into a dreamless sleep.

[viperpitt]

The mission had gone south. Fast.

Y/N pressed her back against the crumbling concrete wall, her breath ragged, fingers tight around her rifle. The icy wind cut through the night, howling past broken windows and twisted metal. Across the dimly lit battlefield, she spotted Sova perched on higher ground, his bow drawn, piercing blue eyes scanning for threats. He was always so precise, so composed, like the chaos around him never truly touched him.

But this time, something felt off.

The enemy had them pinned, bullets ricocheting off metal and stone. The mission brief had underestimated their numbers. They needed to extract—now.

“Sova, we need an exit!” Y/N called through comms, ducking as a spray of bullets shattered the wall above her.

“I see it. Stay where you are,” his voice was calm but firm. A promise.

Then she saw it—one of the enemies, creeping along the side, weapon raised, aimed directly at Sova.

Without thinking, she moved.

She barely registered the pain at first, just the force slamming into her side as she tackled Sova to the ground. A sharp burn spread through her ribs, and then the pain hit, white-hot and blinding.

Sova caught her before she hit the ground fully, his arms steady despite the chaos around them. “Y/N—” his voice cracked, his hand pressing against the wound at her side. Blood. Too much of it.

“Had to—” she coughed, wincing as he pulled her closer. “He was gonna shoot you.”

His jaw clenched, something dark flickering in his expression before he pulled them both behind cover. His free hand flew to his comms. “Brimstone, we need an evac now.”

“Copy that,” Brimstone’s voice buzzed back. “Hold tight.”

Sova wasn’t listening. His focus was on her, his fingers pressing against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding.

“You should have let me handle it,” he murmured, but the anger in his voice didn’t match the way his hands trembled against her skin.

She tried to smirk, but it came out weak. “And let you die? Not a chance.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head, and without another word, he lifted her into his arms. She didn’t have the strength to protest, not when the warmth of him pressed against her, his grip so secure, as if letting go wasn’t an option.

— At base —

The moment they landed back at headquarters, Sova didn’t leave her side. Not while Sage patched her up, not when she was cleared to rest, not even when she tried to tell him to go eat something.

And when she finally tried to stand—against orders, of course—his patience snapped.

“What were you thinking?” His voice was sharp, but his eyes told another story.

Y/N sighed, leaning back against the infirmary bed. “Sova—”

“No.” He stepped closer, his broad frame towering over her. “You could have died.”

“But I didn’t.”

He let out a harsh breath, running a hand through his hair. “You cannot do that again, Y/N . Ever.”

She frowned, her voice softer now. “I couldn’t lose you.”

His expression crumbled for a moment, just a flicker, before he sighed and knelt beside her bed. “And you think I could bear to lose you?” His hand found hers, rough fingers threading through her own. “You mean more to me than a mission, than protocol, than—” He stopped himself, jaw tightening.

Her heart clenched. “Sova—”

His forehead pressed against the back of her hand, his grip tight, grounding. “Next time,” he murmured, “stay with me. Don’t throw yourself in harm’s way for my sake.”

She gave his hand a squeeze. “Only if you promise the same.”

His chuckle was low, bitter. “You know I cannot.”

“Then you understand why I can’t either.”

He exhaled, shaking his head, but there was no real anger left—only worry, only something unspoken between them.

Finally, he lifted his gaze, eyes softer now. “Rest, Y/N. I’ll be here.”

She wanted to argue, to tease, but exhaustion tugged at her, and with his warmth beside her, she let sleep pull her under.

And true to his word, Sova stayed.

[gretavanmoon]

Valor - Troubadour

Pairing: Daniel x OC

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin'. Angst: Mention of Struggle and Poverty, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Murder and Death, Allusions to Shady Activities, Mention of Police, Concealing a Fugitive. Smut: Flirting, Kissing, Unprotected Sex.

Hey everyone! Thanks for being here! Was really missing the Valor world (what's new) and decided to satiate my needs with a little Danny spin-off. This story picks up just a few months after Chapter 14 ends and before the Epilogue, when Danny has decided to busk around the Midwest in search of fulfilling his musical heart and hitting the open road on his motorcycle. This Danny side-quest story will only be a few parts, but hope you enjoy the ride!

Big thanks to my bestie & cowriter @gretavangroupie for all the edits and wonderful idea inputs <333

Read Valor Ch. 14 here

Read the Epilogue here

TOPEKA, KANSAS

DANNY

“Cheapest bottled you got, please. From the back of the cooler,” I yell over the crowd as I pull off my hat, raking the back of my sleeve across my forehead to clear away the dripping sweat threatening to fall into my eyes. I’m tired and my voice is a barely-there rasp, but these past few weeks have had me flying on auto-pilot, running on fumes and the new high of performing on stage with a live band, just like I’ve always dreamed of doing. The bar we’re in tonight is crowded and full of loud-mouthed drunks, but honestly, I feel frighteningly right at home. 

Glass beer signs line the walls and the pool tables are barely lit and in desperate need of some new bulbs. The faded green felt is tattered and torn, and the cues have seen better days. I can tell that every cent this place makes is not going to the upkeep of the building, that's for damn sure. The walls are dripping with nicotine and and the floors are sticky with spilled beer and god knows what else. Truly, feels just like Canaries, a place I thought I’d never see the likes of again.

The bartender furrows her brow at me as she turns toward the cooler, obviously thrown off by my odd request. As she slowly leans down, I can’t help but let my eyes rake over her backside, hardly covered by the ripped and cutoff Levi shorts hugging her hips and thighs. She pulls her hair to the side as she bends lower at the waist, reaching as far back as she can to get to the furthest beer. She’s bent completely in half, and I have to calm myself with a full breath of air to keep my thoughts from getting the best of me. It’s been a while, sue me.

I snicker to myself as I pop a few peanuts from the bar bowl into my mouth, satisfied that she fell right into my trap. 

Oldest trick in the book. 

Finally she pops up, returning shortly after with a frosty brown bottle in her hand. She unscrews the lid, tossing it against the wall at the end of the bar before it falls into the waiting trash can below it. 

“Just realized why you asked for one from the back of the cooler. You think I’m some kinda sleaze, or somethin’?” she asks, leaning her elbows down on the bar with just enough force to squeeze her tits together. Her hand is still damp from handling the icy bottle, and I watch as she gently rakes her fingertips across her collarbone. Hm… I am no stranger to her type.

I lift the bottle to my waiting lips and take a long pull, never breaking eye contact with her. Finally I swallow, leaning onto my own elbows to meet her challenging gaze. 

“Beer’s coldest back there. You think I want somethin’ warm after sweatin’ like a hog up there on stage all night?” I ask. “It’s goddamned hot in here.”

She scoffs and her eyes roll, standing back up straight as her expression tells me she is already over my shit. Still she looks at me, crossing her arms tightly across her chest, the faded words on her shirt barely legible anymore. “Just cause you play a little guitar don’t mean you can get whatever the hell ya want here,” she bites, her eyes now seething and sexy. 

I growl a little beneath my breath, flashing her a glance of my teeth. “Well it fuckin’ worked, didn’t it? I gave you a show, only fair you give me a little one, too…” I reply audaciously. 

“Fuck off, prick. ‘Fore I bar you,” she says, fighting back a smile. 

I stand and smile too, pulling a few bucks from my back pocket to lay on the sticky bar top. 

Her lips purse, “Band’s got a tab, you ain’t gotta pay now,” she explains, effectively ignoring the other patrons who are now nearly begging for the attention that she won’t stop giving to me. 

I bite my bottom lip as I squint my eyes at her. “I don’t like owin’ people. I’ll pay as I drink,” I insist as I take another swig off the top of my beer. “Unless of course, my money’s no good here?”

I watch her snap back in surprise as the music from the house band begins to swell from the stage behind me. Her tongue pokes through her lips as she blows the bright pink gum in her mouth into a bubble, eyeing me as it inflates and pops, and she pulls it back between her teeth. 

She slams her palm onto the money and swipes it from the bar top, spinning quickly as she heads to the cash register. 

“Danny, my man! Kickin’ ass and takin’ names!” Suddenly I feel the harsh palm of my new band mate Shawn grip across my neck, shaking me from side to side. He’s drunk already, but that’s to be expected of a front man who would rather chug a fifth of warm Jack Daniel’s before a show than warm his vocals up during sound check. “Hell of a fuckin’ set. Who the hell taught you how to pick a guitar, huh? The devil himself?”

I smirk a little, unable and unwilling to tell Shawn that yes, the devil was definitely with me for all the years I sat quietly in my room with my guitar, drowning out all the noise around me with whatever sound I could get to come from the damned thing. My foster parents, Ace… the revving of Valor’s engine all the nights that Jake suffered trying to fix her. 

“Just practice, I guess,” I yell back in his ear as he stumbles into me. “Practice and patience.” I’d never tell him the skill was born of necessity. He didn’t need to know that much. 

“Well, m’glad we found you on the side of the road when we did. You got more talent in your baby toe than Rog had in his entire fuckin’ body, man,” Shawn slurs, his own cocktail splashing onto my shirt as he speaks. “I mean that.”

I give him a curt smile and nod as he disappears back into the crowd, an elongated arm and pointed finger trained on me as he falls away. 

I couldn’t be more thankful for him and the other guys; they’d stumbled across me busking outside a little string of bars outside of Memphis right after we burned Ace’s down and I’d decided to hit the road on Ruby. I needed some space, I needed some freedom. And I needed the open fuckin’ road so badly I could hardly stand it. So that’s just what I did.

It was strange at first, being away from Jake and away from Joslyn after they were all I’d known for the majority of my life, but I knew deep down that if I didn’t go, if I didn’t leave, I’d get stuck right back where I’d started from in that goddamned town, running from the law and all the demons I’d decided to collect on the way. 

I knew Jake needed Y/N, and they needed to start a life together in privacy. I didn’t fuckin’ like it, bouncing from cheap motel to cheap motel, but after some time, I got over myself and my needs and began to rely on the road, and the sound of my tires spinning across it. I grew to love the feeling of a guitar in my hand more than the feeling of a socket wrench. And I began to like the sound of a loud, cheering audience more than the sound of a tuned-up Mustang engine. I reckon part of that is due to Y/N’s encouragement, getting me over my own fear of performing.

But that ain’t to say that I didn’t miss mechanicin’ a little. 

This band was full of miscreants just like myself, who had gathered together after realizing their talents and how much better they’d be if they meshed together. Their old guitarist, Rog was good, but he just didn’t have it in him, from what I understand. I didn’t want to settle down with a band, and honestly I’m still tossing around if it’s a good idea or not, but the money is alright. And sleeping in a shitty van beats sleeping under a tarp on a sidewalk or roach infested motel. Not that I am above that now.  

“Cowboy, your change?” I hear the bartender’s voice interrupt my thoughts, pulling me back into the headspace of the crowd and the chaos. 

“Nah, s’yours,” I reply to her, giving her a wink as she fights off another sweet smile, chomping on her gum again as she makes a point to give me a full up-down. 

Cowboy. I don’t like that. 

I’m far from a fuckin’ cowboy. Don’t think I’ve ever even mounted a horse in my life. I guess if I’m gonna continue to wear this cowboy hat, I’d better get used to the nickname. 

And if she’s gonna keep lookin’ at me like that all night, I’ll let her call me whatever the hell she wants. 

—

I drape the hat from a hook hanging on the motel room wall, making good on my new knowledge to never lay it down. I’d fallen asleep on a park bench one night a month or so ago with my guitar case open in front of me, and I’d woken up to the dirty old hat laying right in the center of it. Underneath it was the rip off the edge of a piece of receipt paper, some chicken scratch handwriting across the bottom of it: “Looks like you need this more than I do”, was all it read. 

I didn’t bother cleaning it, or trying in earnest to return it to its rightful owner, because they were right. A hat in the heat of the Kansas sun was like a godsend. It’s a pale beige straw with a camel brown leather strip, and I have to admit, it fits me like a glove. I made a mental note that day to take it with me wherever I go, and to always be thankful to the nameless stranger who had left it for me. Though it’s not my style, I still wear it with pride.

“Hat looks good on you, Cowboy. Sure you don’t wanna leave it on?” She smiles from her place on the bed. 

Yeah, I’d brought the bartender home with me, obviously, after we’d shared plenty of back-and-forth banter with one another between the few sets our band played tonight. She’d managed to get me pretty drunk after the last set, sliding me a double shot of whiskey on the house after I insisted on tipping her for every beer I’d ordered. 

I’d splurged on a king-sized bed tonight, forgoing joining the rest of the guys exploring the little Kansas town we’d found ourselves in. And I’m glad I did. The bartender, Sherry, I’d learned, is sprawled out in a red lace getup, making herself comfortable on the scratchy brown felt blankets and over starched sheets. She’s definitely fuckin’ sexy, and she’s easy to talk to, and I knew I’d made the right decision for the night when she didn’t actually get mad at me for my advances on her at the bar. She seems like just my kinda lover. 

I rip my t-shirt over my head and toss it onto the floor behind me before clicking off the lamp on the nightstand beside us. My mind is still swirling from the adrenaline of the crowd and the feeling of the music we make, and from the intoxication I’d put onto myself. Fuckin’ whiskey.

At the last second I change my mind, grabbing the hat from the hook before I crawl toward her on the bed, hand over knee as I place it directly on top of her head. 

“Yeah, I’m sure, think it would look better on you, anyhow,” I say, pressing it down a little to make it fit snugly on her. She giggles, reaching up to tilt the brim of it back to get a better look at me in the dim light reflecting from the cracked bathroom door. 

“You tryin’ to tell me somethin’, Cowboy?” she says, pushing me by the shoulders to lie back into the pillows. “Tryin’ to tell me what you want, tonight?”

She thrusts one of her legs over my waist, straddling me fully as she lets one hand drift across my ink-covered torso while the other readjusts the hat on her head. Fuck, she really is fine as hell. Has a different look to her than most of the women back in Joslyn. A little grittier, a little more confident in herself. My hands immediately grip her thick thighs as I lick my lips, glad she picked up on my insinuation. 

“I’ll take whatever you wanna give me, baby…” I say as my hips buck up into her, her bright red nails digging with a little force into my chest. My eyes blur from my drunkenness, but I can feel my heart racing with anticipation for whatever the night is about to bring me. The TV behind her is blasting late night MTV videos, Peter Gabriel, Dire Straits, ZZ Top… the light casting the silhouette of her perfect figure right in front of my face. Her tits are sitting perfectly in the lace, and I find myself slipping quickly into the feral mindlessness of foreplay. I reach my hand up to free her breast from the confines, gripping her left cup to rip it down. 

I feel my mouth salivating as her perfect nipple perks up, and I feel no shame in taking it all in my hand. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous baby…” I praise her, my filter nearly completely gone. I squeeze at it a few times before sitting up to take her in my mouth, bringing my tongue harshly across her nipple. Her head dips back at the contact as she sits down a little harder on me, grinding her hips a little and looking for friction. 

“Fuck, Cowboy, we’re really gonna get into this?” she asks, her hips already circling on my hardening dick. 

I hum onto her, making her hiss between her teeth. “Mmmhm, unless you want me to take you back home…”

“No no, no…” she urges, shaking her head side to side as it falls back, and I free her other breast, taking it into my mouth as well. “I’m good here.” 

Her nails dig into me a little bit more, showing me that if we want this night to keep going how it is, I need to get myself together. She huffs a loud breath as she sits back, unbuckling my leather belt as her hands start to hastily shake. Her head tilts down and she looks at me again under the brim of the cowboy hat, her bottom lip sucking in and out of her mouth. 

“You need a hand?” I ask, offering my help with the belt and button. She nods a little, and we work together to pull my pants and underwear all the way off. My dick springs free as she drops my pants to the floor and I can hardly decipher the string of words and obscenities that fall from her gorgeous red lips. She leans down, and without any warning at all, takes me all the way into her mouth. 

My head falls back in surprise as my hips act on their own, pressing themselves to get me deeper into her throat. “Oh, shit, Sherry baby…” My hands find hers, and I give them a tight squeeze to let her know that I’m okay with going forward. Not that I really had any say so, anyway. Her tongue glides across the length of my cock, already begging for more as she pays special attention to the tip. Her red lipstick makes for a sinful visual, even in the partial darkness. 

The air in the room is already starting to heat, heavy with the smell of lust mixed with cigarettes and bad decisions. I thought maybe I’d change when I left Joslyn, and I did, in many ways. But goddamnit if I didn’t keep the same fuckin’ love for my vices. Cheap beer, rolled smokes, and women. All shapes and sizes, all makes and models, fuck. I’ll never fuckin’ grow up, and I’m not sorry for it. And now I’ve added a whole new love to my roster- playing the ever-loving fuck out of a guitar. 

“You wanna look at me, or not?” Sherry breaks my train of thoughts after she pops her lips off the tip of my dick. 

I take a deep breath, watching as her hand takes the place of her mouth, slowly and languidly gliding her grip up and down the length of it. “Whatcha mean, baby?”

She crawls up on me, placing one hand on either side of my head. She leans down, placing the tiniest peck on my lips. “Reverse, or…” 

“Oh…” I breathe, my body begging for more of her touch, anything at all, anywhere. “Can I pick both?”

She laughs a true laugh, displaying a dimple in her cheek, crawling back down the bed and stepping off the end of it. Her thumbs hook in the side straps of her thong, and she slowly sways her hips from side to side, pulling it slowly down her legs. She shimmies free of it before turning around, bending at the waist as she gives me quite the show yet again, just like I’d tricked her into doing at the bar. 

“Fuck… bring yourself over here…” I beg of her again, holding my two middle fingers up to beckon her. My entire body is writhing with want, and I can feel myself already teetering on the edge of pleading. She does as I ask, her bottom half completely uncovered now as she crawls up on me once again, before turning herself around backwards. Yes, baby. 

She glances at me over her shoulder before taking me in her hand again, working me up to where she wants me. She uses the utmost care in making sure I’m there again. She’s still flawless in the blue light of the TV as “Every Breath You Take” by the Police pops on behind her.

“Ugh, god I hate this song,” she complains quietly, and I barely hear her over the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. I’m too blissed out with the visual of her ass grinding against me to even register what she’d said. 

“It’s so…whiney…” she complains again, her hand still working me. Her hand feels buttery soft against my cock, and I have to stop my stomach muscles from tightening in on themselves. God, I could already fuckin’ bust. “M’sorry Cowboy, I gotta turn this shit off. I can’t concentrate.” 

“Damn, whatcha got against Sting?” I chuckle, a little miffed that she’s hopping off me to reach for the television knob. She twists it once, and I huff an aggravated breath as the news pops on. 

It’s fuzzy and the picture is blurred, but I guess it appeases her more than the music did. She takes her position again as she grips my dick in her hand, leaning down just a little bit to take me in her mouth again. My hands knead at her ass as we pick right back up where we started from. My teeth are biting hard into my bottom lip, stifling the noise I want to let fly. “Goddamnit, Sher-“

Now, Sherry isn’t the first woman I’ve fallen victim to since leaving Joslyn, and she most definitely won’t be the last. Sometimes I think back on my time with Y/N, and how things had progressed so quickly with her before I got my head on straight and realized that I was moving in a direction my moral compass didn’t need to point. And when I realized my brother was madly in love with her. 

Things had felt good with her during that time, and honestly, I thank her for it. Though we only spent a fraction of time together, she gave me a taste of what it felt like to truly care for someone in that regard, and she let me know that maybe my heart is big enough to love someone other than just Jake and Bubba. Watching her and Jake together taught me more than they ever even knew, showed me that with the right counterpart, even lungs full of cigarette smoke and hearts full of resentment can turn on a dime, and reciprocate a love they’d never even known before. 

Love?

Nah, I never felt love for her. At least I don’t think I did. I did feel serious enough to want to change my life for her, that much was true. But thankfully I caught myself before I started to tumble. She helped me learn that I am capable of doing it, I can be that man for the right woman, if and when the time comes. 

But that time isn’t now, and that woman isn’t Sherry. 

“Fuck me, baby… god yes…” I groan into the thick air as Sherry finally sits all the way down on me, taking me fully inside her with one swift motion. I huff a fast breath through my gritted teeth, sitting up a little to get a better view of her. I grip her hips as she starts to rise up and down, getting a rhythm together as she starts to bounce. 

Her hands move from in front of her on the bed, and one reaches back and grips her left ass  cheek while the other holds on tight to my hat on her head. She feels like fucking heaven, silky sweet and velvety as she switches between backward thrusts. “How’s that, Cowboy? Feel good, baby?” she asks, her voice breathy as I watch her ass bounce against my thighs. She twists her head around to look at me with an eyebrow perked as she awaits my answer.

“Yeah… fuckin’ tight, baby, s’ perfect…” I could say more, but she switches herself up and hops to balance on just her feet, giving herself more space to ride me. She balances perfectly without the help of her hands, and somehow, the sight of her fucking just the tip makes me want to let it all go right there. Her wetness is dripping down on me, and it takes everything in me not to grab her hips and pull her all the way down again. But the show is just too damn good. I’m impressed, I really am, and I wonder if she does this with every victim at the bar that she flirts her way home with.

Ah, who gives a fuck. I’m her choice for the night just as she is mine. 

This view has me throbbing inside her, and for a second I don’t know what to do with my hands. She starts slowly swirling her hips, her hands balanced on her knees as she works me to near perfection. “You’re gorgeous baby, keep it right there…” I groan, my entire body starting to burn with need. I bring my open palm across her ass, eliciting a high pitched squeal from her, followed by a devious laugh. Somehow, I knew she would like that and the visual of my red handprint on her skin pushes me even further.  

I grab her hips and pull her down onto me, and I swear she feels even better than she did before. She falls back down to her knees into the position she was in before, still gyrating back onto me. I move my legs and sit up on my own knees, pressing a hand to her back as she leans down to all fours. I press deeper into her now, nearing myself closer and closer to the edge with this new angle. I feel rabid now, wanting to have all of her that I can in what I know will be this short span of time. 

“Ssss, fuck…” she grits, her voice a near whine now as I begin pounding into her ruthlessly. Her walls are fluttering around me violently, and I realize now that I never even told her my name. 

“Yes… yes…” She arches her back as she bucks her ass onto me, spreading her knees apart on the bed below and pressing her face into the mattress. “Harder, Cowboy, please…”

The hat is still hanging on for dear life as the room around me loses its shape, and all I can think about is the vicious sound of our bodies smacking together. I’m sure the neighbors are enjoying the sound of the headboard rattling against the wall, but I truly couldn’t care less. I’m trying to be careful not to leave bruises on her hip bones, but given the way the night has gone, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, anyway. 

Without warning, I feel her hand reach between her own legs, gripping my balls firmly in her hand, and giving them a few tight squeezes. The sensation has me mindblown and my knees weaken, like she knows exactly where my weakest spot is without me even telling her. 

“Fuck, you’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” I ask, my hips moving at an ungodly pace as she continues to squeeze. I’m not sure if she wants me to cum faster, or if she really just wants to give me a show. For this to be the first night the two of us have met, she’s really uncaring of any of her manners. 

“Mmhm…” her breath is heavy, pitiful and wanting as I continue my relentlessness. “Just want you to feel…good, baby…” she whines through the thick blankets on the bed. Her hands are gripped tightly into them now, as she holds herself in this position. 

I take a fistful of her hair in my hand tightly at the root, and pull her up to me. My sweat-covered chest is pressed against her back, and I grab one of her tits with my free hand. I stay buried deep inside her, and I can feel both our pulses raging through us as we catch our breath. “Sexy, Sherry…” I breathe into her ear. Her hips start looking for friction, and she begins grinding them back onto my cock again, slow and ragged as I know she’s getting near the finish line. 

She falls onto her hands again and I feel us both begin to reach that point, and the muscles in our bodies start to shake and tremble. My eyes blur over as I wait to hear the sweet noises fall from her lips, but instead I’m met with another sound. 

“Cowboy…” she says, her voice stern. But I barely hear her as I concentrate on my own pleasure. “Cowboy!” she repeats even louder, but I continue to drown her out, not letting up on pounding into her. 

“DANIEL?” she yells, quickly pulling herself away from me and hopping across the hotel room.

“What, what? What’s wrong Sherry?” I ask, suddenly surprised and confused. She rips a sheet from the bed and covers herself with it, and I notice that her eyes are blown out with fear. She cowers in the corner as her eyes dart back and forth, searching for her clothes. I’m completely confused, and a little blindsided as my body tries to figure out what it should be doing.

“You– I, it’s you!” She points to the TV as the picture flashes across the screen. All I see is the face of a news anchorman, reading something off the papers in his hands. 

I stand from the bed and walk closer to it, watching as he continues to read. “Sher, it’s just the news, what do you–”

“Get away from me!” she cries, stepping back harshly into the wall. “Don’t touch me!” She suddenly seems as if she is a trapped animal, searching for her escape.

I instinctively walk toward her. “Sherry, what in the world?! I’m sorry if I–”

“Stop! Don’t come any closer! You fucking liar!” Her eyes are wide and terrified as she looks at the television again, and I’m nearly frozen in place as I try to piece together the past few seconds. I look from her to the TV again, and the picture is staticy and fuzzy. I back away from her and adjust the antenna, watching as the picture clears a bit. I turn up the volume and listen to the anchorman speak. I feel my legs hit the back of the bed and I sit down harshly, waiting to see what in the fuck Sherry saw for myself. 

“Authorities are asking for the public’s assistance in locating these men, as they are believed to be armed and likely dangerous. It is positively believed that they are directly responsible for the death of a man in Joslyn, Missouri, by means of murder by arson. Both men fled the town shortly after the incident, and are believed to be living separately, or traveling on the run.” My hand shoots to my mouth as I watch in complete terror as a sketch of mine and Jake’s faces cover the TV screen. “Authorities are just now building a solid case, and need your help in finding these men. If you have any information regarding their whereabouts, please call the telephone number at the bottom of your screen.”

I feel the blood drain from my body as I take the first breath I have in nearly a minute, and I feel myself going into a state of shock. 

What… the fuck…

I feel Sherry’s body rush toward me as she drops the sheet that was covering her to pick up the clothing she had strewn across the dingy carpeted floor. “I gotta get out of here…” she rushes, her hands shaking. 

“Sherry, listen to me. I can explain-”

“Explain? Explain what?! That you’re a murderer?!” she screams, and I watch as fearful tears begin to well in her eyes. She hastily pulls her shirt over her head and I listen to her breathing pick up as she tries to calm herself. 

“I’m not a murderer, Sherry! Listen to me! I swear you have no reason to be afraid of me…I–I just let me talk, please…” I beg her, my voice rising with the temperature of my skin. 

“Stop. Shut up. I’m getting away from you, and I’m callin’ the police,” she says through a completely shaken voice as she steps back into her shorts. I can tell she is in complete self-protection mode. 

What in the fuck is going on? How did this happen?

My heart rate starts to rise as everything hits me… the sketch of my face on the screen, Jake’s face… armed and dangerous, wanted for murder by arson… My head is spinning with confusion, with worry, with the sudden want to run, myself. I think about Jake, and about Y/N, and how I haven’t spoken to them in a few days. Do they know? Where is Bubba, are he and Geraldine okay?

It’s then that I realize I can’t let Sherry go, I can’t let her call. 

“Sherry, stop. Can you just listen to me for a second?” I ask again, grabbing her by the shoulders with as little force as possible. She tries to pry herself away, so I switch gears, knowing that if she isn’t going to listen, I have to use another tactic. “You do not need to get into this, this goes a lot deeper than it looks on the surface, Sherry. Please. I’m not a monster. I swear to god, I’m not.”

“You expect me to fuckin’ believe you? You never even told me your fuckin’ name! Daniel, is that even it?” she cries, the tears flowing down her face. 

“Yes! Yes, that is my real name. That much is true. And the other man, that’s my brother. His name is Jacob. Jake,” I explain, trying to throw sincerity into my already panicked voice. I adjust her shirt that she had pulled back over her head, straightening the fabric to cover her more. “We are from Joslyn, Missouri. And… And-”

“And you fucking killed a man!” she yells, ripping herself from my hold. “You’re insane! Are you a serial killer? Because if you are, I swear to god that you won’t leave this goddamned town in one fuckin’ piece, do you understand me?” she threatens, catching her breath. “I’ve got friends, Cowboy, friends in low fuckin’ places who would walk to the ends of the earth for me. I wouldn’t test my fuckin’ luck. All it would take is one call, and you’d be a dead man, yourself.”

I watch as she swallows, suddenly feeling a bit brave as the sexual mindset completely leaves us both. 

“I don’t doubt it, Sherry. I don’t doubt that one bit.” I swallow down my panic and sit back down, trying to diffuse the situation as best as I can. In a split second, I bargain whether or not I should tell her the whole story, the whole truth, but I know that would leave her with more questions that I fear she simply won’t care to have answered, as scared as she is. I want to be honest with her, I really do. But I also want to seem as clueless as I can so as not to make things worse. “I’m not a serial killer. I swear to god. I may look rough around the edges, and barely have a penny to my name, but I’m no killer, Sher. Swear on my life.”

She’s clutching her purse in her arms, hugging into herself with her worried facial expression tight as she takes my words into consideration. She’s listening to me…

“Back at home, my brother Jake and I were into some deep shit, some shit we didn’t want to have anything to do with, but we had no choice. Had been years upon years of never ending cycles of threats and manipulation. We had nothing, we were nothing. We weren’t saints, but we were good, honest, working men. Just tryin’ our best to survive, ya know? We uh… we were being threatened, our lives were being threatened… our home. The people we loved…” I rub a hand across my face as all the memories of just a few months ago come rushing back to my mind. Bubba, Josh… and Sam…

“It was going to end badly. It was going to be deadly in ways that we couldn’t even fathom. Along with innocent people who loved us getting caught up in it, too. These men were monsters, liars and cheats. Gave a damn for no one but themselves. So we got some help. We got some help from our own friends in low places, Sher, and they helped us to make moves to end it, get us out of the situation. And it uh… It just so happened that the man who was threatening us, the man who wanted us dead, got caught in the crossfire. He came to kill us, but ended up killing himself, instead.” I know it’s not the entire truth, and there are details that I could go on about for days, but for now, this explanation will have to do. I have to make sure she sees my side of the story. If not, it’s handcuffs. 

I feel bile rising in my throat from even disclosing this much. She shouldn’t even know that much of the story. I could have lied, I should have lied… but for some reason something deep inside me stops me from it. I’ve never been a liar in my life and I won't start now.

Sherry’s body is shaking with adrenaline, or maybe even fear, but she’s calm. “Why you tellin’ me this, Cowboy?” she whispers, pulling out a box of cigarettes from her purse. She plucks one out and lights the end, taking a long drag. Her hand shakes as her thumb and ring finger balance on her cheek, the smoke billowing around her face. 

I swallow. “Because, it’s the truth. Last thing I’m gonna do is lie to you. Don’t have any reason to.”

She takes another long puff, and I find myself envying the nicotine. “Why ain’t you lyin’ to me? You don’t even know me…”

I shake my head, pulling the sheet back over my exposed lower half. “I’ve never been one to lie. Never really got me anywhere but in trouble, anyway. I ain’t got a perfect past, Sherry, that’s the honest truth. But I’m not running from my demons, I’m running from a past that I don’t want followin’ me.”

She brings her lips into her mouth, taking another few puffs of her cigarette. I say a prayer that she’s considering my plea. It feels like hours that I stare at her just standing there, her eyes floating around the room before her cigarette is nothing but a filter. She moves to the nightstand, putting out the butt in the ashtray by the phone. She turns her back to me and blows the last puff of smoke into the air before her hand scratches the back of her head. 

“I ain’t gonna call the cops,” she admits quietly. 

I stand quickly and go to her, stopping myself from taking her in a full embrace. “Fuck, thank you thank you, Sherry. Really, I– Thank you.”

“You’ve got one hour. Get your shit, and get the fuck out of here,” she warns, crossing her arms again. “If I see you here still, it’s straight to the police. And don’t ever come back to this town, do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah I get it. I won’t,” I promise as I begin working to collect my few things from the floor. She stands and watches me as I pack, and I know that she’s fighting the urge to go back on her word as her eyes move from me, to the phone, to the door, and back again. This is taking a lot from her. 

I finally have my few items shoved into my bag, and I realize that reality is once again hitting me right across the fucking face. I sit on the edge of the bed and pat the blankets, inviting Sherry to come and sit by me. She does, slowly, and with the utmost caution. 

“Why you helpin’ me?” I ask quietly. 

“Cause,” she chokes, pulling her tongue to the side of her cheek. “Feel like you’d’a done the same for me. I’ve been where you are, Cowboy. Maybe not for arson, maybe not for murder, but I’ve been there.”

I nod in understanding, extremely thankful understanding.

“And I don’t feel like you’re tellin’ me the whole story. Sounds like you and your brother have some skeletons in your closet. And I ain’t no judge, and I ain’t God. Who am I to decide what your reasonin’ was?”

I take a deep breath, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude for her words. I take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips to kiss over and over. “I need you to understand that it was life or death for us. Was us or him. The cards we were dealt just happened to fall that way. We did nothin’ in cold blood, Sherry. Please believe me.”

She finally looks me in the eyes for the first time in a while. “I believe you, Daniel. I don’t fuckin’ know why, but I do. God, I’m insane for doin’ this…”

“You might be, Sher, but that’s why you and I were drawn to each other, I think,” I try to lighten the mood, and she gives me a half smile.

“Still don’t like you,” she groans, giving me a lethal side eye.

I stand and wipe my hands across my thighs. “You must like me some…” I lean down to her, letting my nose graze across hers. To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away. I hear her breath hitch as I watch her reason with herself on deciding to let me, or slap me. 

When she doesn’t pull away, I lick my bottom lip, gently brushing it across hers as her eyes flutter closed. My heart rate rises again as my body reacts, suddenly pulled right back into where we had just left off minutes ago. I must be fuckin’ sick in the head. 

“Fuckin’ vagabond,” she whispers, her breath hot across my lips. “Criminal…”

I laugh against her. “I ain’t none of them things, baby. Troubadour, maybe…”

I let my lips crash onto hers again, pissed at myself for being this way. Why am I this way? I need to run…I need to call Jake.

But she kisses me back, her hand immediately flying to the back of my head to pull me in closer. God, she’s just as fucked up as I am.

It’s heated and messy again as I push her back onto the bed, her nails already digging into my back as we writhe together. She moans into my mouth as I press my groin into her, making sure I’m in just the right spot. We lie like this for a few minutes, both of us knowing we’re soaking up the last bits of each other that we’re going to get.

“I ain’t lettin’ you fuck me again, Cowboy. This is just a goodbye kiss…” she breathes, her teeth nipping at my stubbled jawline. 

“You sure?” I ask as my eyes roll back. “I never got to hear you come for me…”

She laughs a guttural cry, shaking her head as she scoffs at me. “And you won’t. Not right now, at least.”

I grind between her legs again. “Thought you told me to never come back to this town?” I ask cheekily.

I pull away, looking her in the eye as she takes a quick breath to speak. “People saw me leave with you. Same people who are watchin’ the news, right now. They will recognize you. They’ll be breathin’ down my neck with interrogation on your whereabouts before the sun rises. I was a drifter once, too. Looks like I’ll just have to go back to my old ways…”

“Run with me, Sherry,” I ask before my mind can even process the thought. 

“Nah, that’s not part of the deal.” She pats my chest with her hands, signaling me to get off of her. So I stand, understanding that our time together has come to a close, and I need to make a fuckin’ break for it. “Shame, though. You’re some of the best dick that’s come through this town in a while.”

I can’t help but laugh at her as she stands from the bed along with me. “Thanks, I think.”

“Get the hell out of here, Cowboy. Go. Don’t talk to nobody, and keep your head down. Head East and don’t fuckin’ look back, ok? There’s a fueling station about twenty-five miles outside of town on Route 40. Red pumps. Stop there, they don’t think twice about drifters. Call your brother from there. Let him know you’re comin’.”

“How’re you so good at this?” I ask her, slinging my bag over my shoulder. 

She sucks her teeth as she fixes her hair and residual lipstick in the motel mirror. “Told you I was a drifter once, too. Some things are just in your blood, ya know?” She turns to me, craning her neck up as we prepare to say an actual goodbye. 

“Can I give you somethin’ to remember me by?” I ask, holding my cowboy hat out to offer to her. 

She shakes her head, taking it from my hand and placing it back on top of my curls. “No, you’re gonna need it. It’s gotten you this far…” She adjusts it on my head, brushing a few stray hairs away from my face, in an act of pure softness. “Actually, wait,” she says, brushing past me to open her purse sitting on the table. A few seconds later, she emerges with a brand new Polaroid camera in her hands. “How about a photo to remember you by?” 

I second guess it, not really wanting a perfect stranger to have her own photograph of me, but Sherry has shown me more mercy than I deserve tonight, and a photo is the least I could do. 

“Sure, why not,” I agree, adjusting the hat on my head once again. 

“Here, put these on,” she suggests, handing me my aviator sunglasses that were by her bag on the table. I oblige, feeling a little out of place, but going along with it all anyway. She pulls the camera up to her eye and positions her finger over the button, making sure I’m in the frame. “Smile for me, baby…”

I know my cheeks blush at her words, but she snaps the photo before I have the chance to make myself look ready for it. 

“Hope I didn’t break your lens,” I joke.

“Nah, it’ll be perfect. Thanks.” Her smile sends butterflies through my stomach for the third time tonight, and if things were different, I might have asked Sherry to come on the road with me for real. But I know that the issues I’m running from are bigger than anything she needs to be involved with, right now. Maybe I’ll see her again some other time, in some other smoky bar.

I grab her chin between my fingers, laying a sweet kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you around, Sherry. Thank you. Be safe out there.”

She gives me a sweet wink as she sniffs a quick tear away. “Back at ya, Cowboy.”

—

“Come on… please pick up… pick up…” I whisper into the payphone as I try to will Jake to answer on the other end. The last we spoke was about six days ago, and he and Y/N had been traveling around scoping out places to live. They’d settled in a little apartment just outside of Memphis, where I had originally planned on busking around to make some cash. I liked it there, but the winds of change kept me rolling down the road to a new nowhere.

I’d ridden into this tiny slice of highway with only my guitar on my back and my bag hooked to Ruby, and I silently thank her for carrying me this far on my journey. The guys in the band had let me put her in the cramped equipment trailer that they had luckily left unlocked when I left the motel. Careless sons of bitches, I could have easily stolen anything I wanted.

I hated leaving them without any word, but they’ll most likely see the news, and be glad that I decided to run away, anyway.

“Hello?” a gravelly voice answers.

“Jake, hey, did I wake you?” I yell anxiously into the payphone at the gas station Sherry had told me about. She had been right, the attendant never even looked at my face as I threw my gas money onto the counter.

“Yeah, it’s fuckin 4AM, what’s wrong?” he replies, his voice thick and full of sleep. “Are you OK?”

Fuck. Of course he hasn’t seen the news. 

“Ah, no not really… are you uh. Are you with Y/N?” I ask, running my fingers through my hair as I peek around the corner to make sure Ruby is still sitting where I parked her. 

I can hear him rustling on the other end of the line, finally getting his bearings. “Yeah, she’s right here, why? What’s goin’ on?”

I clear my throat nervously, “Turn on the news. Local, maybe.”

I hear him rustling around again as he pulls himself out of bed, taking a deep, shaky breath as he wakes Y/N. “Danny, I don’t like that you’re not fuckin’ tellin’ me what’s going on.”

“Just go,” I urge him, my head on a swivel. 

There’s a pause before I hear him move around and switch the television on. “You’re lucky, we just got this fuckin’ TV yesterday… Hardly know how to work the damn thing yet.” he complains.

“Just–” I bite my tongue, waiting for him to see what he will inevitably see flash across the screen very soon. There’s a pause again and I hear the faint sound of Y/N’s voice beside him.

“Oh my fuckin’ god,” he says blankly. “Oh… oh, fuck. What–”

“Just listen to it,” I say quietly, letting him listen to the whole news story. 

“That’s our fucking faces, Daniel.”

“I know. I know it is,” I begin to pace as far as the short payphone cord will let me. “What the fuck are we gonna do?”

I hear Y/N’s worried voice again. “Jake, what… they can’t do this…”

“It’s gonna be okay, baby” he reassures her, but I can hear the doubt in his voice. “Danny, where are you?”

I clear my throat again, getting my head back on straight. “Uh, just outside of Topeka. ‘Bout 25 miles. I’m headed your way.”

“Do you know my new address?” he asks, overtop of more rustling and heavy breathing.

“Yeah,” I reply, “got it memorized.”

“Well forget it. We’re going somewhere else. We can’t be here,” he says angrily. 

“Jake, but, you just–”

“Y/N, do you remember Oz’s address? Lucienda’s?” I hear him ask her, and I immediately agree that going to them might be our best shot, even though Oz is most likely still serving his time for the last circus we got ourselves into.

“Yeah, I think so…” I hear her reply. “But Jake, we can’t just leave…”

I hear subtle aggravation in his tone, but he manages to keep it at bay. “I paid ahead three months’ rent, Y/N. We’re just… gonna leave for a while.”

“Jake what the fuck are we gonna do? Turn ourselves in?” I press. 

“I–I don’t know yet. No, we just play dumb for now. We need to get to Lucienda. Talk to her. She’ll be able to protect us for a while, she’ll know what to do,” he says. 

“I’ve got my fuckin’ bike, Jake. I won’t be able to make it anywhere fast, especially not to fuckin’ Miami,” I say, suddenly a little panicked again. I pull my tin of smokes from my pocket and light the end of one. The rush of nicotine instantly fills my lungs and calms me. Well, enough for now. 

“I know you can’t,” he says, taking a breath. “We need to go back to Joslyn first.”

“Joslyn?” I practically yell into the phone. Quickly looking around. “Are you fuckin’ crazy?! That’s the last place we need to go, Jake!”

But in the back of my mind, I know he’s right. We don’t have to show our faces, just a quick in and out to hide my bike and grab the last bit of cash we ended up hiding back in Ace’s safety deposit box for emergencies. And, we have to make sure Bubba is safe. With this new surge of information, god knows whether or not Teddy’s guys have gone after him yet, looking for some type of vengeance.

“You know I’m right…” he says quietly. “How long has it been since you’ve talked to Bubba?”

I swallow, taking another drag. “Week and a half. Maybe two.” I hadn’t been traveling with the band very long, but I know that I had told Bubba of the good news of them hiring me on, so it was around the same time. The last we talked, he claimed he was safe and sound. 

“Same here,” Jake says, taking a long pause as he thinks. “Get to Joslyn, stay quiet. We’ll meet at the old house by the creek. Nobody even knows that place is there anymore. It’s our best bet.”

“Okay,” I agree, nodding my head. “You gonna call Bub? Or do you want me to?”

“I’ll call the diner. Tell Geraldine everything. She’ll tell the truth, Bubba will sugarcoat if there’s anyone fuckin’ with him.”

“True,” I agree, exhaling again. “We can’t get on a fuckin’ plane, Jake. Someone will recognize us. It’ll take us days to travel to Miami and we need to get there fast.” My mind suddenly starts to spin with all the different plans of action. None of them seem like the right one. Traveling to Miami seems like too much land to cover, but staying in Joslyn doesn’t feel right, either. 

“Then what the fuck do you suggest we do?!” he exclaims. “We ain’t got a fuckin’ home, anymore, Daniel.” I can tell he whispers that last bit into the phone. 

“I’ll meet you at the creek. We’ll make a plan from there.” I stomp my cigarette out onto the cracked pavement, my skin beginning to sweat with nerves as I glance around again. 

“Okay,” he says again through a huff of grievance.

“Bub’s okay, right Jake? He’s alright?” my voice feels hollow as the words fall. 

I can hear Jake exhale on the other end, the same rush of worry flowing through him as it runs through me. “Yeah, he’s alright. And if he’s not… If they’ve touched him again…” He’s quiet for a second, and I can almost hear his teeth gritting together. I know that the exact same thought is running through both of our minds. I haven’t seen Jake mad in a really long time, but I know it wouldn’t take much for him to snap back into his old ways, especially when it comes to Bubba.

“I’ll see you at the creek,” I say with conviction, and I hang up the phone, wholly not ready for this journey. 

—

Well, here I am. Joslyn. Dirty and run down as ever, quiet but loud at the same time. A once bustling town rich with life and aspiring men looking to provide for their families now a mess of cracked sidewalks and sunken rooftops. Failed and closed storefronts, abandoned homes… the list goes on. This place is never gonna fuckin’ change. 

It’s been a long two days’ travel coming back here, and I halfway regret not renting a vehicle to be a little more inconspicuous coming back into town. But, an unknown car rolling through Main Street might set people off all the same. 

My stomach churns with old nerves coming back to the surface again, old habits and muscle memory making me feel like my head is already on a swivel again. It’s nearing 8PM as I roll into town, so I’m careful not to hit the throttle on my bike any more than just a light idle. The last thing I need is someone hearing me and suspecting I may be back.

As the late evening sun begins to disappear from the sky, I pass by Wanda’s motel, still just as shitty and run-down as it was. Teddy’s dry cleaning building, now looking either half-alive or closed completely since he’s not around to make it look like an actual fake business now. The bank, the countless churches… and the grocery store. 

The grocery store. 

I grit my teeth as I realize that Jake, Y/N and I will need supplies and food if we’re going to be hiding out in the old cabin for a few days. I hope to god his ass thought to bring blankets and pillows, and hopefully some food. I wonder if they’ve beat me here. I have no way of knowing, besides going all the way there first to check, but then if I don’t stop, I risk spending a whole night without food or water. Or whiskey.

I quietly pull my bike into the back parking lot of the store, parking it alongside the building behind the ice cooler. My hands are already shaking, I have to admit, and as I pull the kickstand down, my eyes dash quickly to my sides to ensure no one has followed me. Just a few stray bodies here and there coming in to grab a TV dinner before retreating back to the trailer park to finish off a six-pack. The coast is seemingly clear. 

I pull a cigarette from my tin and stretch my legs, hyping myself up to go into this grocery store where nearly everyone knows my face. Or, knew my face. After a minute or two, my boot extinguishes the butt of my smoke and I take a deep breath, the finally-cooling Autumn air filling my lungs and bringing me back down to earth a bit. I grab the cowboy hat from my pack and place it diligently on my head, tucking my hair up underneath it to conceal another one of my identifying factors. I pull out my wallet to make sure I still have enough cash for some food, at least, and I step in through the glass doors. 

It looks and smells exactly the same, musty cardboard mixed with the faint scent of a floor cleaner, with the fluorescent lights overhead barely providing enough light to brighten the poorly stocked aisles. I don’t know why I expected it to be any different, we’ve only been gone a few months, though it feels like an eternity. 

I put my head down and make a mad dash down the first aisle, luckily remembering the place like the back of my hand. I grab a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a box of saltines, tossing them into a shopping basket I’d found abandoned in the aisle. “What else, what else…” I whisper to myself, ignoring the eyes of each and every person I walk by. My heart is thrumming in my chest as I pace up and down the aisles, throwing a few more cheap yet necessary items into the basket. 

When I’ve finally gotten it full, I race to the checkout line, but not before stopping and grabbing a half-pint of Early Times, a box of matches, and a bag of cut tobacco. I place my basket onto the checkout counter, keeping my head down still as I realize the clerk is someone who knows me well. Knows me very well. 

“You 18, kid? Can’t sell you this if not…” he says, his voice still just as crackled and raspy as the day I met him. He stands the whiskey bottle up on its base as I swallow my nerves down, one by one. He cranes his neck to look at me from underneath the bill of my hat. 

“Kid, hey, you got any ID on ya?” he asks again, his wrinkled hands the only thing I can focus on. Fuck. He sees my ID, he recognizes me. Recognizes me as the murderer on the loose, in the very town he ran from. My heart is pounding, how had I not thought of this? He’s never ID’d me before, but then again, he knew me. He snaps his fingers when he realizes I’m not meeting his eyes or answering him. 

I peek up gently, thankful that I’d decided to leave my sunglasses on at the last minute. “Ah, ya know, left it at home, I think. Had a long day. I don’t need the bottle,” I say, trying like hell to conceal my voice, yet keep my local accent. I push it to the side as I pull my wallet out and prepare to pay for the rest. 

“Shit,” he says under his breath. He scans the whiskey and slides it into a paper bag, slipping it in beside the rest of my items before hitting the total button on his register. “Ain’t no thing. Can tell ya hands is dirty, can’t deny a workin’ man his vices,” he grits quietly. “That’ll be $19.70,” he says a little louder now, and I feel a relief lift from my shoulders, all the sound coming back into my ears now that my heart rate isn’t flying. 

I can finally hear the muffled music coming over the speakers in the ceiling, along with the beeps of the checkout lines beside me. I pull a twenty from my wallet and graciously place it in the man’s hand. It’s funny, all the years I’ve been coming to this place, and I never learned this man’s name. He doesn’t even wear a nametag.

“Appreciate that, old timer. Saved me a night of sittin’ with my troubles,” I reply, avoiding his eyes again as he hands me my change. 

“Don’t we all need that,” he grumbles as he hands me my bags. “Ya know, I don’t recognize you. You from ‘round here?”

Goddamnit, goddamnit. Think.

“Uh, yeah. From up on Bolter Street. Been gone awhile, moved back to take care of my folks,” I say, clearing my throat. I used to live on Bolter Street, many many moons ago. That part isn’t a lie.

“Hmph,” he grunts, pulling a toothpick between his lips as he squints at me. “Not a lot of folk live on Bolter much anymore. Street kinda died with the town.” I can tell his tone is interrogatory, and I feel the sweat beginning to pool on my forehead. Get it together, Daniel. 

“S’why they called on me.” I nod and give him a curt smile as I begin to back away. “Have a good evenin’, sir.”

I grab the bags and tip the brim of my hat, making my way back out of the store and into the fresh air. “Fuck,” I breathe as I reach my bike. That was fuckin’ close. If it was that hard to get groceries, how in the hell are we going to do literally anything else?

I cram the bags into my side packs, uncaring if I smash the bread or not. I’m anxious, and desperately in need of a damned drink. I wish like hell I could go to Canaries’ for a beer, but who knows what state that hellhole is even in, anymore. Or if the clientele is even the same. Shit, that place used to be a haven for people like us, until it wasn’t. Until Teddy and his crew turned it into a place where you had to look over your shoulder every other second, or else you risked a cue stick across your back if you said a sly word. 

I need to make my escape, and I need to make it fast. 

I kick the stand on my bike and pull the key from my pocket, sticking it into the ignition and turning it over a few times before she starts. I plan to take as many back streets as I can to avoid going straight through town again, but that’s not as easy as it looks. Passing by the diner is going to be necessary. 

A minute or so later, I’m cruising by Louie’s Diner, the parking lot only holding two or three vehicles as opposed to the normal ten or twenty. Strange, I think to myself, and I slow down and peer in the windows a little more closely. There behind the counter is Geraldine, looking worse for wear than I had seen her in a very long time. Maybe ever, actually. My heart falls as I realize she looks nothing like herself. Her hair isn’t fixed, and her nails aren’t painted their normal bright, red color. 

I quickly glance to the end of the bar where Bubba normally sits, finding the chair to be empty. Again, my stomach falls at the realization that he isn’t there, waiting with Geraldine to finish up her dinner shift like he normally is.

Shaking my head, I concentrate my attention back onto the road in front of me as the abandoned houses begin to turn back into the forest, and the two-lane turns back into one. I snap my headlight on as I rack my brain, trying to think of where Bubba could be, if he is okay, and why Geraldine looks so down. My stomach churns with nerves at the possibilities, but I hold out hope that maybe he had just gone home for the night, and Geraldine is just tired. 

I cruise down the winding road toward the creek, trying like hell to breathe in the fresh air to calm me. I pray I don’t pass any police cars, or anyone who would recognize my bike. But as the asphalt turns to more of a rocky concrete beneath my tires, I begin to feel a little relief. Man, I could really use a fuckin’ smoke. 

I cross over the bridge and turn onto the dirt road, the same one that Jake, Ace, Bubba and I had used so many times to get to our special spot on the creek. Darkness has fallen now, and I find myself feeling a little nostalgic at the scenery. For the first time in months, I see things that I could recognize even in complete darkness, I take curves that I could turn blindfolded, and I begin to smell the scent of the murky water and mossy trees that line the creek. No matter how much I hated it, no matter how badly I wanted to run away, this will always be home. Joslyn will always be a place that lives in my heart, no matter how dusted and horrible the time I spent here was. 

I make another right turn, watching for any other vehicles to be parked and out for one last late-night fishing pole cast before the weather starts to break. When I find our spots to be empty, I gain yet another feeling of relief. The gravel turns into thick bedrock, and I use caution as I navigate Ruby down, all the way to the bridge by the swimming hole. 

I park the bike at the foot of the hillside and stand, remembering that I have a spare flashlight in my pack, equipped with brand new batteries. I dig it out and turn it on, slowly panning around to take in my surroundings again. It still looks just the same as it always did, the large leaf-covered trees leaning over the water to provide almost a storybook-like scene. But this town is anything but a storybook. The frogs and crickets know that their time is almost up, and their songs have begun to slow and their tones have become deep. Again, my nostalgia almost knocks me over. 

I push my bike over to a cluster of trees, lodging it between a few trunks out of sight of the road. I bite the flashlight between my teeth and begin pulling my bags and necessities from my side packs. My guitar suddenly feels like a burden, when for months all it was was an object of comfort. Now, it feels like something that might weigh me down the further along I go on this journey. Either way, I throw the makeshift rope case strap over my shoulder and begin lugging my things across the old bridge, straight toward the cabin. 

As I trudge through the thick mud, thankful for my high boots, the beam of my flashlight catches something reflective down the creek a bit, and I nearly drop all the bags in my hands. “Shit,” I gasp, gripping my hands onto everything more tightly. I glance over, realizing that my light had bounced off a tail light. I walk a little closer and shine the light more directly, seeing that the tail light belongs to Jake’s truck.

“Son of a bitch,” I mumble with relief, suddenly realizing that I’m not alone in the least. My best friends are just on the other side of this treeline. Not just my best friends, but my family. 

I put a little pep in my step, letting the thick pine branches pull at my sleeves as I traipse along the muddy creek bed, straight up the incline and onto the trail to the cabin. I feel excited to see them, but also in the back of my mind I know that our meeting isn’t going to be a joyous one. It’s going to be one of deciding on our next move of survival. 

After a few minutes’ hike, I’m finally to the clearing at the cabin, and what I see in front of me isn’t what I expected in the least. Instead of the old, dilapidated building I had spent many a summer in, the cabin is now more of a house, with a new roof, a repaired front porch, and even a brand new front door. What in the hell?

I see a faint light on inside, and I stop for a second, hesitating on whether or not to proceed. Is someone living here now? No, no one knows about this place except for us. And maybe a few trusted others who have caught word of it over the years. 

If it weren’t for me seeing Jake’s truck, I may have considered turning around, but just as I approach the rickety stairs of the cabin, the front door flies open, and a silhouette that isn’t Jake is standing in the doorway. 

“Daniel, my boy! You made it!”

“Bub?!” I drop my bags and the flashlight in my mouth, rushing up the stairs to greet the old man. He wraps his arms around me as I take him around his shoulders, the both of us pounding our open palms against each other’s backs. “What are you doing here? We were going to surprise you!” I say as we finally break apart. 

“Surprise? You boys ain’t as slick as you think you are…” he chuckles a raspy laugh as he replaces his cap on his head. “Practically raised ya, and ya can’t even tell an old man you’re comin’ home?”

“Ah, Bub, we were going to, but–”

“Hey you just gonna leave me hangin’ over here?!” I hear Jake’s familiar gravelly timbre fill the air as he plummets into me, almost knocking me back as his arms embrace me. The embrace of a brother. “Heyyy, brother…” I laugh, not sure of the last time Jake and I actually hugged. It’s funny, we spent so much time together for so many years, I was positive that when I left him and went my own way, I wouldn’t think twice about it. And I didn’t really, until I’d find myself needing to ask him a question only he would know the answer to, or I’d hear an old Neil Young song in a bar. It was at those times that I realized he’s the other half of me, and he always will be. We do alright being apart, but the world feels more at ease when we’re together.

We pull apart, and I catch sight of Y/N leaned in the doorway, her arms crossed across her chest as she eyes us with a sweet, familiar smile. “Well looky here, the two outlaws, themselves,” she grins, and I immediately pull her into the same embrace that I’d pulled Bubba into. She feels a little different now, not sure why, or how, just different. Her hair is longer and she’s got a suntan from the Tennessee rays. My mind hardly ever reminisces on the time we shared together, and I’m thankful for the fact that we have been able to stay good friends after our whirlwind romance. She’s as much a part of me as Jake is, now. Just in a different way. 

I feel her fingernails scratching at my back as we hug, and her voice is muffled as she tries to speak with her mouth pressed against my chest. “You two really couldn’t even manage to stay out of trouble for six months, could you?” she playfully complains. “The hell am I gonna do with ya…”

“Not even funny, Y/N,” I say, pushing at her shoulder as Jake and Bubba make their way inside the cabin with my bags in hand. We follow them in, and Bubba pulls the door closed behind me. He pulls a deadbolt, and a slide-lock, and a chain lock across the brand new door, and kicks a wooden wedge up underneath it. 

“Damn, what is this, Alcatraz?” I ask, too surprised to take a look around the place. 

“Might as well be,” Bubba says, rushing over to the windows to pull the heavy blue curtains in front of them. 

“What the hell is going on?” I ask, finally taking notice of the state of the cabin. The interior has been completely re-done, though not all brand new, it looks better than it used to. The floor is no longer caved in, and the roof has been repaired. There’s a table and chairs, and a large couch in the living area, along with two recliners. There are dishes on the shelves, and a wood stove has been installed in the corner of the kitchen. “What happened to this place?”

“Come, sit, Daniel,” Bubba beckons me, and I make my way over to the chair he has pulled out for me. Jake and Y/N follow suit, and he takes his seat last. The air in the room is heavy, and I realize that the only light is coming from three oil-burning lanterns placed around the old tables and countertops of the house. The warm flickering glow accentuates Bubba’s wrinkles, reminding me yet again that he isn’t getting any younger and that the world has continued turning. 

“I was just tellin’ these two, Danny, I took the liberty of movin’ up here ‘bout, oh, five, six weeks ago. Been trying my best to fix the place up, make it feel like home. I know you two wouldn’t care, and I know your Pops wouldn’t have cared eith–”

“Wait wait wait,” I cut him off. “Moved? What do you mean you moved?”

“I mean, I moved. All my things are here, in the back bedroom,” he responds matter-of-factly.

“What about your trailer? Your place?” I ask, my hands flattening across the dusty wooden tabletop.

Bubba licks his wrinkled lips, bringing his hand up to rub across his shaven chin. “Sold it, son. Property and all. I just… wanted away from it. Wasn’t doin’ me no good.”

“But you said right before we left that you were happy, when we asked you to come with us, you said you were fine–”

“Hell, ‘course I did, Daniel. You wouldn’ta left and gone out on your own if I’d’a told you my plans.” He pauses, clasping his hands together. “Plus, Geraldine and I separated, knew this would be a better place for me, anyway. Give me somethin’ to keep my hands busy.”

All three sets of our eyes grow ten times in size. “Bub, what?” Jake nearly yells. “You separated? Why?”

Bubba waves us off, almost like it is no big deal. “Aw, shit, boys. You know damn good and well why. After y'all left, shit fell apart even worse than it was already fallin’. After Teddy died, and his posse didn’t have a head honcho no more, they started goin’ out on their own, causin’ more trouble than they had before. Stealin’, botherin’ folk… Teddy was a piece of shit but he kept those vagrants in line, I will say.” He rubs his hand over his chin again as he adjusts his legs under the table. “Anyway, I… I didn’t feel safe… havin’ these ties with you boys, and, and the shop burnin’ down and the history we already had with Teddy. I just didn’t want Geraldine caught up in it, ya know? Didn’t want her worryin’, or worse yet bein’ a new target for them boys. She don’t deserve that. Don’t deserve it at all. Thought it best I just leave her to herself.”

“Bubba, that’s ridiculous!” Jake says, and we nod in agreement. “I–I mean, I know where you’re comin’ from, but. You two are in love, made for each other.”

“Yeah,” Y/N adds, “wouldn’t you feel safer being with her? I mean, keeping a closer eye out for her is easier when you live in town, right?” 

Now I know why Geraldine looked so down. She had just gotten dumped. 

I pull the half-pint of whiskey I had shoved in my pocket, cracking the lid and tilting it back for a few refreshing seconds. I pass it off to Jake, and he happily rips it from my hand and does the same.

Bubba grits his jaw and shakes his head and hands at us. “It was for the best, just trust me. But that’s enough about me. We need to figure out what in the hell to do about this new problem of yours.”

“What happened in town?” I ask. “After we left? Did they come after you?”

“I said enough about me, Daniel. You hard of hearin’?”

“He asked you an honest question, Bubba,” Jake says calmly. “Did they touch you again?”

Y/N’s eyes are trained downward as she doesn’t dare bring them away from staring at the table. She knows good and well that if Bubba says yes, that the two of us are going to come unglued. 

“They didn’t touch me. Tried to, few times but.” Bubba shakes his head furiously from side to side. “They don’t know I’m out here. Geraldine still brings me supplies. I try my best and make myself scarce.”

“What do you mean they tried to?” Jake demands.

“Can’t ya leave it alone, Jacob?”

“Tell me, Bubba!” he raises his voice. “What did they do?” I can see the flame of the candle light flickering in Jake’s eyes, and unfortunately, I know that look all too well. It’s the same one that’s probably in my eyes, right now. 

It’s pindrop silent in the room as we anxiously await an answer from Bubba. He’s breathing hard from his flared nostrils, and wringing his wrinkled hands together. He pulls his red handkerchief from his back pocket and pats it along his brow, and I know that if he doesn’t say something soon, I’m gonna jump out of my skin. Hard to tell what Jake would do.

Finally, Bubba looks up from his hands, swallowing hard as his voice is barely audible. “If I tell you boys, you promise not to leave this cabin?”

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[powderette]

hi, i’m dior ♡ welcome to my blog; a lace-trimmed diary for boys who bleed beautifully

i’m a female multifandom fanfic writer based in hk that goes by she/her pronouns. im isfp and 18. currently head over heels with genshin impact, valorant, httyd, f1 etc.

i mainly write reader-inserts and angst. i sometimes fluff, and lemon ^_^. as of rn, i only write for fem and nb readers and wlm wlw pairings. updates whenever heartbreak permits ♡ no strict posting schedule. requests closed.

all writing tagged under #dior's ♡ diary while other fandom-related rambles are in #dior's ♡ rambles. other more personal topics are under #dior's ♡ yapsesh

lowercase intended, minimalist blog w soft themes. no reposts anywhere please. this is a curated space for softness and sincerity. no hate, no discourse.

masterlist · reqs · dni & byf · latest work: diluc x reader

all works under © powderette 2025 · please do not repost, copy, feed to ai, or plagiarize ♡

[rottenangel2]

hellow, i realized that i made so much of Omen, so, here is my favs the fokin agents. HC!!!! (neutral, bc, lets be realist, most of them are toxic). Is gonna be about the dificulties of dating the agents.

also there is gonna be (i guess) a lot of mistakes, so please forgive and make blind eye and just enjoy :p

cc: Reyna, Omen, Sage n sova

WHAT KIND OF PARTNER THEY ARE?? HUH?

REYNA

She is actually really nice, kind of would destroy most of the things for the ones she really loves. Not use to get emotional conections, and if she does are really important, so, a betrayall would kill any chance of comeback (Like cheating, disrespect of boundaries, lies and stuff). Her emotional and close relationship are realy important to her, so, if something bad happened to you it would worry and scare the shit out of her, and for that she use to be really protective, and in cases, even toxic -"Why are you going out at this hour?" "you didn´t tell me!"- so if you are a "spirit" free dude, belive me, this is not gonna be the most compatible realtionship.

Whit time and trust, she gonna be more chill about it, like when your parents accept that you are not a child and start to let you date, and even drink, so she won´t be weird and that worry about your well-being, she only want one thing: a text from time on time saying that you are okay, that´s all. Reyna already have lost so many people, she can´t risk loosing you too.

OMEN

He is usually really down on himself, most insecure and distant. there is almost no diference between being his friend at being his lover, so please, patiente! Most of the figths are for not comunicate what he feels and that gonna be the biggest issue on the relationship, he doesn´t know how really say how he feel, so he just gonna feel lost on his own issues and want to do all for himself, going distant and even trating you poorly when he feels down (thing that ofc is wrong)

the only solution is time, he want time for process all of his trauma and lack of memories, and you would need time to process of how traumatized he is. If you really want to keep him by your side it gonna required a lot of comunication and silence, sometimes the silence is better than the deaf words, he want that, not empty words. He gonna be kniting and thinking, leeting the stress out, and you? by his side doing something by your own. Understand the others need gonna be the damn key, and he really NEED to feel like you understand.

SAGE

She doesn´t have time for a relationship, the kind of girl that feels like a busy billionaire because is IMPOSIBLE that every day of her damn week is already fully whit a activity of vital importance, belive me, having these kinds of relation ship is tiring. At the start gonna feel like -"Okay, she is bussy, no problem" but then??? it gonna feel like she is not putting enough effort, even if she is trying, she don´t gonna be able to give you the time a realtionship need, almost like being single 3 weeks per.month

There is no solution, job is job, and whit the monasterio and protocol, damn.

SOVA

Bussy, bussy bussy (haha pussy), he usually want to be free of the work, but is his only financial income and he doens´t want to think on his personal stuff, so he usually hide himselft on it. The main problem is not when he is out, he is attentive, text you, send you pics when he can, and try to be in your arms all the time he can, but when he is you he have almost 10% batery on, only craving sleep, cuddling and being spoiled, sound cute, but when is always like that is usaully tiring and feel like you are his nany more than a partner, and this can lead to figths, figths that he would feel like invalid or overreacting, and that word gonna piss you off.

This could lead to a break up or a main inconvenience that yes or YES gotta be talked deeply, but guess, OH! he is to tired for argue.

[leeneir]

Angst; Iso x GN!Reader Headcanons <3

7.12 leaks just dropped. Ya boy has angst about our favorite.

As I've mentioned before, these are taken mostly from my Iso x oc ship but with alterations to fit (hopefully) any narrative!

And ngl, this kinda deviated from headcanons to a mini drabble so uhm. oops.

Iso has a difficult time sleeping caused by his career as an assassin. He dreams of endless blood on his hands, lifeless bodies all around him, and the organization simply sending him his next target without a regard for how he feels. His dreams were mostly filled with past victims who he unalived, but lately, the hand pulling the trigger pointed to someone else, someone that was never an intended target. You.

He doesn't understand why it's you, and he doesn't understand why he's completely terrified of the idea of killing you. It's gotten to the point where if Iso finds out that mirror!you was gonna be one of the enemies on his mission, he'll pull out of it, saying he doesn't feel too well to accomplish the mission.

Iso wonders if he should go through with offing Omen, but then he see's you chatting with said shadow entity and he can't stop the overwhelming feeling of... regret? Pain? He doesn't know, but what he does know is that he doesn't like it.

The protocol is so warm and welcoming... the agents were always inviting him to join in on their shenanigans of messing with the senior agents. At first, Iso was really scared. How could they pull such childish pranks on their higher ups? But then you're the one recruiting him with a grin on your face, and he realizes that the organization was deathly cold in comparison.

You notice the shift in his behavior, observing how as continued to watch everyone, walls upon walls of defenses slowly come down, revealing the true Zhao Yu that no one has seen in years. Nobody realizes it, but you do.

He thinks about the differences a lot, and the best way he can think clearly is bu practicing his aim. Unfortunately, Iso could go hours of shooting and one tapping bots, lost in his own world of nothingness as the echoes of the gunshots throughout the range remind him of nothing but the organization.

You don't tell him, but Omen raised his concern abour Iso to you and you both bring it up to Brimstone in an email.

You decide to go check on Iso who is still in the range, repeatedly shooting and reloading his gun while he was fixed in his trance. You call his name, he doesn't respond. You try again, he still continues to shoot. You then decide to touch his shoulder, but you barely even graze him before he knocks you away and points the gun at you.

It takes Iso a moment to process who or what just happened, but the moment he does, he is horrified. This was just like his nightmare, him holding the gun, finger on the trigger, a mindless assassin doing what is told, and on the other end was you, shocked and afraid of him. He drops the gun and apologizes profusely, completey terrified of the idea of you being scared of him.