a man could get killed

Kill Zone - Prologue

Characters: Reader ( Special Agent Y/N Singer), Special Agent Castiel Novak, Dean Winchester, Cindy Stevenson (OC), Ella McKenzie (OC), Agent Samuel Campbell, Agent Crowley MacLeod,    

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader (eventually)

Warnings: Blood, violence, injuries, torture (not overly graphic), murder, character deaths  

Word Count: 2000ish

A/N: This is a serial killer AU of sorts. Not the typical kind, but it has all the death and violence these kinda AU bring with it. It was sorta inspired by Criminal Minds, and that is why my agents are profilers.

This series will have deaths, violence, love, heartwarming moments and everything in between. I am hereby warning you for yet another rollercoaster ride led by me ;)

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Thanks to the amazing @percywinchester27 for being my advisor and beta on this one.

Technical Terms: MO: An offender’s method of carrying out an offense


Cindy was running as if her life depended on it, because it did. The branches snapped under her bare feet. The sharp rocks dug into her skin like razors each time she fell, but every time she got back up. Blood was soaking through her shirt and jeans from the wounds where his knife had pierced her flesh. Her racing heart was pumping her blood faster through her veins, causing the blood to escape her body even faster, and making her head spin.

I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die.

The words repeated themselves over and over again in her mind, like a chant, as she tried to get away from her kidnapper. Her kidnapper, who had set her free. Who had instructed her to run, before slowly walking off in the opposite direction, carrying his rifle over his shoulder.

She had cried and begged for her life, screaming till her throat was sore and hoarse, but he hadn’t turned around. He hadn’t worthied her a second glance, so she had done the only thing her exhausted and befuddled mind had let her. She had ran.

Keep reading

Belladonna Farm (Part 1)

Yay! The first part of my new Nessian series! This will be a seven part fic and will have a couple aesthetic boards to go with it. 

Fun Fact: The setting for this fic is a real place that I have been to and took pictures of for the aesthetics. Everything about it is 100% true except for the mountains (which I added because Illyrians).

Please let me know what you guys think! 

Tagging: @aelinxfeyre @rowanismybae (let me know if you want to be added to this tag list!)

Aesthetic Board 1



1. also called deadly nightshade. a poisonous plant, Atropa belladonna, or the nightshade family, having purplish-red flowers and blackberries

2. Italian for ‘beautiful lady’


Nesta checks her phone again, squinting as she tries to understand the directions the stupid GPS app is telling her. She is pretty sure that it is completely wrong. After all, the last town is twenty miles back, and all around her are corn fields, with a small mountain range situated behind them. The road she is currently driving on is paved, but has many potholes, and the closest neighbors are several kilometers apart. Surely her late Aunt Ripleigh - who had loved to talk all day if she had an audience - wouldn’t want to live all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.

Of course, that may as well have been Nesta’s city heart talking. She could never imagine staying in a place like this for a long period of time, corn fields surrounding you, the sun beating down constantly. As it is, she has the air conditioning blasting in her car and the humidity is still getting to her hair. Not that she has anyone to impress. Nesta briefly feels a bit grateful for a week with no one around. Maybe she won’t even do her makeup while she’s staying here. Wherever here is.

As she continues to drive down the dull, straight road, Nesta once again curses the circumstances that put her here. Of course, she has no one to blame, because she can’t very well blame her dead great aunt for naming her in her will. Although Nesta fiercely wants to be angry that Aunt Ripleigh had decided that she should be the one given the farm house at the base of a mountain.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Idk if this has been done but what about a Gangster headcanon for the boys. what would they be like if they were gangsters I'd imagine Ignis to be very sharp and dapper. *heart eyes*

I’ve seriously never considered this before, but I though of some funny stuff while I was leaving Kroger™

Here goes nothing



  • This fucking nerd would be stereotypical
  • Snap-back
  • Dark Shades
  • Probably a stoner too with 1000 420 jokes up his sleeve
  • Loves chains™
  • He doesn’t wear Jordans 
  • He wears VANS
  • And he wears Joggers with an oversized Varsity jacket he probably stole from Gladio or Noctis
  • The sharpshooter of the group, waving his gun around 24/7
  • (He looks more like a raging homo than a fuckboi promise)


  • Obviously The leader™
  • Loves Thug Life jokes bc he practically invented them
  • Probably started with MC Hammer pants but Ignis decided he needed to meet the 21st century
  • Now he wears oversized hoodies, with snapbacks and he’s into joggers too skinny jeans
  • Tries to be tough shit, but he isn’t
  • Is actually pretty goddamn successful 


  • The Guy who does reckless shit™
  • Once knocked the teeth out of a guy they were making a deal with for insulting one of the guys
  • Will legit kill a man who tries to fuck with the leader™
  • Leather, he wears lots of it
  • This guy is a walking talking arsenal ready to strike down any dumb bitch
  • Usually placed beside Noctis during deals to scare competition away


  • Looks like a mafia boss
  • Actually the right hand man™
  • His hair is full of secrets
  • Has a lists of ways he could kill a man and get away with it
  • “That’s it, I’ve come up with a knew scheme”
  • Plans all the heists
  • Doesn’t like to get his hands dirty v.s. I will bathe in the blood of our enemies

Okay, guys. I’ve got something I have to say.

Yes, the Accords had problems. Doubtlessly, in the beginning they were very government-centered and they would have needed provisions in place to stop the UN from having absolute authority. Tony admits this. He completely agrees when Steve says that provisions need to be put in place, and he tells Steve that he’s going to work to make that happen. The fact that the Accords, as they were in the beginning, apparently had loopholes that allowed Ross to jail Team Cap without a fair trial is fucked up.

But while Tony fans can admit that the Accords weren’t perfect, Team Cap fans can’t seem to do the same about Steve’s choice of going against the Accords totally, with no exception. Steve is portrayed as if he was absolutely right in going against the Accords. As if the Accords were absolutely corrupt. The Accords that were a document created by the officials of 117 countries, countries with elected officials.

They don’t seem to see what they are turning Steve into.

They are turning Steve into a Nice Guy™. Into a colonist. Into that guy that goes: “Oh, hey all of you POC dominated countries with your POC officials. Don’t worry about the rules that the officials, which you depend on for your voice in such matters, make. I’m going to come save you all! No matter what your opinion is in the matter.”

Because fact is? Steve coming into countries that are predominately white, and lead by white people, without their permission or any respect for their laws is bad enough. (Especially when those countries also have POC that depend on the officials for their voice.) But Steve doing this to predominately POC countries, countries that have already had white people try to tell them what to do for centuries? That’s fucked up.

And don’t try to tell me that the people should tell Steve to leave themselves, then. Again, the lower class people within a country depend on the officials of their country to be their voice. Very few of them are going to march up to a man that could kill them and tell that man to get out. And even for the few that do ask that, in a way? Well, we’ve seen them in the comics, and even a little in the movies. Those few are viewed as just harshly judgmental people by the heroes, ones who don’t ‘understand’ that the Heroes™ are just trying to save them. Those people are easily ignored for the adoring fanboys and fangirls that actually aren’t scared of showing up and fawning over the heroes. Those voices aren’t loud enough to be heard.

Officials have voices that should be loud enough to be heard. But Steve Rogers heard those voices, and effectively told them to shut up without bothering to really listen. Without bothering to consider what they were trying to say.

And the fact that a large amount of fandom can act like there is absolutely nothing wrong with that concerns me. It concerns me a lot.

FIGHTER (Part 1)

Originally posted by hs127

Walking out of your local supermarket, you looked up at the bleak, grey sky; it had seemed that way forever. Deeply, you sighed,there was never sunshine in your city. Carrying your heavy shopping bags on the way back home, you heard what sounded like a rough fight in the distance with cries of pain and cuss words screamed from two guy’s mouths. Fights weren’t uncommon where you were from, not since the wall was built. The stone wall at the edge of your city that split the next city apart from you was built of thick stone and was over 10 feet tall. The people from the next city weren’t allowed in. They were called ‘The Clan.’

The rumour had it that if a member of the clan so much as breathed near you, you would be overcome by evil thoughts and become a walking destruction machine. It all started in the early 1900′s when a great war broke out between the two cities and everyone the clan touched became obsessed with the person who changed them, doing whatever they pleased and killing the people from the opposite city. Of course, some parts weren’t true and the people over the wall would probably be safe, normal people but the government was so cautious and superstitious that the wall was built. In some places, it caused more anarchy and people still broke out in fights, scared that the other was in fact, an evil member of the clan. 

Walking through the dark alley as a short cut, the fighting sounds got closer and closer, filling your body with anxiety. You were tempted to run back and take the long road but that would cause you to walk an extra half hour that your hands couldn’t take due to the heavy shopping bags. You bit your lip, your heart thumping as you came to the end of the alley and finally, you could see the two men in a fight and one of them was being held up against a wall with a knife close to his neck. You gasped, never seeing such violence before. The vulnerable man had blood dripping from his busted lip, a gaze on his cheek and bruised hands. 

“I’m going to murder all of you good for nothing, waste of space bastards. You all will rot in hell.” 

The man holding the knife growled, scrunching his eyebrows and gritting his teeth in fury. As the knife was getting closer to the man’s neck, beads of sweat began to roll off your forehead, not knowing what to do. You couldn’t just let the man get killed when you knew you could change the situation. Gathering all the courage you could get, you began to walk lightly on your feat, your pulse racing, sneaking closer to the man with the knife. With all of your might, you swung the heavy, large shopping bag across the man’s head, causing him to cry out in pain and fall to the ground. You heard something crack as he hit the floor; you were sure he wasn’t dead but you were also pretty positive he wasn’t going to get up for a while. Bringing your hand to your heaving chest, you looked up at the man you’d saved. He was pretty close to the definition of beautiful. Disregarding his injuries, he had luscious plump lips, smooth looking milky skin, deep brown eyes and the most eye catching thing was his platinum blonde hair that faded in to a bright blue. No one dressed like that where you were from; it was a breath of fresh hair. The man still had fright in his eyes. He was staring at you like you were an alien. It confused you. Finally, he broke the silence. 

“Are you fucking crazy?! Why did you save me?!” 

He exclaimed, you never thought he’d be angry that you saved him. 

“You were about to have your throat cut open.” 

You raised an eyebrow, freaked out at his reaction. 

“I didn’t fucking need to be saved. I don’t need help from you guys. Don’t you get it?! If anyone saw you saving me, we’d both be shot on the spot! Get the fuck away before someone catches us.” 

You were speechless, looking at him blankly as you picked up your now battered shopping from the floor. It was odd just turning around and walking away from the guy you’d just saved from murder with no gratitude, just a scream at you. You knew he was one of them, one of the clan members and that didn’t bother you, you were just disappointed that you never even got a thank you. Looking back one last time, he was glaring at you as still as a statue in front of the unconscious man. It was an odd day to say the least. 

The scene where Silver runs up out from the lower decks to try and save Nicholas–or stop what’s about to happen– is a telling moment for Silver’s character.

He doesn’t stop to think that him rushing in as if knowing something was wrong, that the line was frayed, would arouse suspicion. Randomly, running up from the lower decks, no way he could have seen it himself, to warn the man. (I can’t imagine what else he planned to do.) The idea that the three men who reported the gold was gone were the three who just happened to be involved in one of them nearly being killed? I think it would have been simple for many members of the crew to make that connection.

Silver is smart. Two more seconds of thought and he would have come up with that realization. That once it was set on motion, stopping it, revealing his own unlikely knowledge of it, could likely get all three of them killed.

But he doesn’t. He realizes what’s happening and he immediately runs up to try and stop it. He doesn’t want this man who could very well get him killed to die– removing him hadn’t even crossed his mind. It never would have.

This scene was written to primarily show how much influence Silver has over the men of Flint’s crew. That just a misread look can compel them to kill for him. But I think it also expresses a lot about Silver’s general set of ethics, and how it isn’t nearly as far gone as the rest of the members of that crew– the rest of the pirates. And it never goes that far.

“I can’t do this without you.”

Originally posted by bonniebird

Finn Shelby x Reader

Prompt: #22: “I can’t do this without you.” (Requested by theaqueenakaspeedy)

Dating Finn Shelby had its perks. Some of those perks being that no one dared mess with you becuase you were a “Shelby girl” and Finn loved to spoil you. He took you to parties and treated you to drinks and bought you cute little pieces of jewelry to wear when you went out. You loved him unconditionally, even when he took on jobs with him. There was one that he had to do and you begged to go with him. His brothers needed him to kill the son of a man that was challenging Tommy and threatening the Shelby family.

He had taken you because you knew where the lad lived and when he couldn’t get himself to shoot the man, you were able to rile him up enough to pull the trigger. Sure, some would call you crazy and a bad girlfriend for getting him to kill a man, but you knew what was at stake so you did what you had to do. You knew if he hadn’t taken you that night, he wouldn’t have pulled the trigger and you wouldn’t be sitting in his car at the moment.

He was taking you on another job, this one was in London and you two were driving the whole way there. There was a man threatening the family again and threatening to get the coppers involved, so Thomas sent you two to send him a message, by killing the man’s wife. You hadn’t wanted to come, but you knew Finn would need your help.

“You know, I didn’t want to come with you in the first place,” You said as you were driving through the streets of London once you had reached the city.

“Then why did you?” He turned to you with a confused yet, knowing look on his face.

“Do you really need to ask me that? Because from the look in your eyes, it looks to me like you already know the answer.” He looked to his lap as he muttered his next words.

“I can’t do this without you.” You reached over and grabbed his hand to get his attention back to your eyes.

“I know.”


When you two found the address of the man, you waited until night to go knocking. You were soaking in water and had given yourself a black eye using your lipsticks. Upon knocking on their door, they couldn’t help themselves from letting you in.

“Oh dear, darling are you alright?” You nodded and they tried to bring you inside, but you wouldn’t budge from the doorway. Finn was supposed to come in behind you with his gun raised, but you knew now with his no show, that he was having second thoughts. You hesitantly stepped in the house after looking behind you to see Finn hiding on the other side of the giant bush in their front yard. You glared at him as he looked to you with a guilt ridden face. Turning from him, you stepped inside their home and put on your best innocent face and made your hand shake as you grabbed the wife’s hand.

“Oh darling, what happened to you?” She led you to the couch where her husband sat reading the paper.

You made your voice tremble as you answered, “Some guy attacked me a few blocks south of here and somehow I got away…”

“Oh darling, let me go get some ice for you,” You nodded solemnly, now wondering if Finn was even going to come in through that door. You looked to the window to see him trying to make his way to the door. You glared in his direction again before looking to the man sitting next to you. He hadn’t said a word since you walked in and it was putting a weird feeling in your chest.

You stood from your seat and walked to the door where there were some family photos. You laid your hand on the wall next to the door knob and made it look as if you were just leaning in to see the pictures. When the woman came back, she started talking about who was who in each photograph and you had gotten sucked into the stories that she was telling. You were so focused on the pictures, that you almost missed the tiniest knock coming from the door. You slightly looked around to see if the woman or man had noticed it and neither of them moved from their spots or stopped what they were doing.

You made your way back to the door, glancing over the pictures one more time. You had to tear your eyes away from the photos; all they reminded you of was the family you and Finn were about to ruin to save your own. Stopping at the door and reaching for the handle is what grabs the attention of the married pair.

“Oh, sweetheart, what are you doing?” The sweet, kind woman asked you as you laid your hand on the handle. You glanced to her before ripping the door open to reveal Finn with his pistol. He took two steps to enter and face them, putting you behind him. He always did that to protect you from getting hit by anything.

“What in the bloody hell?!” The man spoke for the first time since you had been there and you could tell Finn was hesitating by the way his body tensed. “You’re a fooking Blinder’s girl!” He screamed at you, causing you to step further behind your boyfriend’s back. You placed your hands on his shoulders and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

“You better pull that damn trigger, Finn. Don’t go getting cold feet now.” You could tell that you were getting somewhere when his grip on the pistol tightened. “If you don’t pull that trigger, he’ll kill both of us, and then he’ll go after each of your brothers and your cousin and your sister and your aunt and your nephews and your friends. And there will be nothing left of your family or me. All because you couldn’t pull a fooking trig-” You jumped as two deafening bangs filled the room and you pulled Finn to you so your face and chest were flush against his back and you could feel him trying to calm his breathing.

This is what you went with him for. This is why he couldn’t do it without you. Because you could get him worked up enough to kill a man and destroy a family; but you were also able to calm him back down and stop him from killing anyone else or possibly himself.

“Come on,” You pulled the gun out of his shaking hand and placed your free hand on his cheek to make his wide eyes look to you, “Let’s go home, yeah? I’ll drive.” He silently nods and hangs his head guiltily and that’s when you knew he had seen the photographs all around the room when he walked in and he had seen the family he had just torn apart. You pulled him away from the house to the car that was parked a block away and the whole ride home you were preparing yourself to fix the man who just broke because of you and his family, the very people he wants to protect.

the transfer, the thug, & the artist

His introduction was brief. Kurusu Akira; that was all these faceless classmates needed to know. The only seat available was next to the obvious delinquent, who stood out from the rest of his peers. They were all society’s rejects, though.

The blond’s eyes grew sharper—his glare more murderous—the closer he got to the desk, but Akira was immune to stares like his. He’d been receiving them for as long as he could remember, and the ones that came from his own household were worse.

Akira pulled out the chair to take a seat, only to have it kicked away.


Keep reading

You know what also made me laugh about Death Note ? How L always knew what Kira was up to and Light always had to change his plans. I don’t remember everything so I guess he always had another plan just in case but… Wow !

Inhumans Part Eleven

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

Genre: A/U, Angst, Violence, Fluff, Romance, more in the future.

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

AN: Bit shorter than normal because I’m house sitting my neighbors house and their dog is a handful. Sorry :(

Keep reading


The Earps’ Curse brought us both nothing but pain.

Project Partner

Summary: A little one shot in which you’re partners with Peter Parker(a kid you’ve never literally even heard of even though he’s in your class) for a chemistry project. Although it was supposed to be a quick thing, a lot happens in the one week you two work together in.

Pairing: Peter ParkerxReader


Warnings: bad language words, kissing, late night writing, fluuufffff

A/N: hehe I had fun writing this! Shoot me an ask if you wanna be added to any taglist/permanent taglist(I don’t bite, don’t worry)Enjoy!

Originally posted by stallingdemons

I lean back in my chair, sighing as the teacher drones on about our chemistry project.

“ I will now be assigning partners. ” the teacher announces.
The class groans in unison; we’d all been hoping to pick out partners.

My chemistry teacher calls out names, and I hear grumbles and the occasional ’ Yes! ’
I hear my name and I roll my eyes. Probably gonna be paired with some loser.
“ Miss Y/L/N, you will be working with…” he looks up. “Peter Parker”
Who the fuck is that?
“ Okay, class, move and sit next to your partner. ”
I hear scrapes of chairs against floor, and look around the room. I’ve never even heard of this Peter Parker, who the hell is he?
I feel someone tap my shoulder, and pivot in my chair to see a brown haired boy, carrying a backpack, standing there.
Woah. He’s adorable. How did I not notice him before?
He smiles. “ Um, hi, I’m Peter. I usually sit in the back–”
I roll my eyes. “ Your obviously Peter Parker. How come you’re always so quiet?”
He shrugs.
I wave my hand. “ Okay, so we have to start on this chemistry project, but can we start tomorrow? I’m too tired. ”
He nods. “ Okay, I’ll just do some research, okay?”
I smirk. “ Do whatever you want man. ”
He opens up his backpack and pulls out his chemistry textbook (which for some reason had a whole bunch of colorful rings on the cover).
I glance at the clock, and huff when I see that we still have 20 minutes left.
Peter clears his throat. “ Maybe, we can um, get to know each other?”
I grin. “ Okay. ”
He smiles back.
So, for the rest of the class, we ask each other a series of questions: birthdays, hobbies, funny stories.
Hard to admit, but it was fun.
I’m a usually quiet girl, and I don’t usually talk with new or different people, like Peter, so this was definitely different.

After a couple days, he starts to talk more, and he is hilarious.

At the end of the week, after days of researching stuff about our experiment, we head over to the lab.
Since it’s after school, most of the students are gone.
I gather our beakers and tubes, and place them on the counter.
I turn on the heater, and pray to god that I don’t burn myself.
“ Hey Y/N?”
“ Yeah?”
“ Can you hand me some of that Epsom Salt? It should be in the cabinet to your left.”
I walk over to the cabinet and grab the salt.
I’m walking back towards Peter, ready to hand over the salt, when I trip over something on the ground and fall, landing hard on my ankle.
I hear a soft ‘kkhh’ and feel pain shooting up my right leg. I wince, feeling my eyes water.
“ Y/N? Y/N are you okay?” Peter asks, turning off the burner.
Peter rushes over to me, concern etched onto his boyish face.
I wince again. “ Just-I’m fine. Just help me up. ”
I grab his hand, and he hauls me up.
I find that it is nearly impossible for me to stand on my leg.
Me being me, I fall to the ground again.
I sigh.
Peter motions towards my ankle, his eyebrow raised. “ May I?”
“ Yeah, do whatever.” I reply breathlessly.
He tenderly prods my ankle, then winces.
“ Sprained, I think. ”
He stands up and looks around the room. “Um, Y/N, can you walk?”
I shake my head, groaning. “Ugh, no.”
Peter leans down, putting an arm under my own, and another behind my knees.
“Peter. Peter what are you doing?”
“Picking you up.”
I shake my head. “No, no–”
He lifts me up and smiles. “You’re light.”
“Of course, I’m light for you-”
The smile drops off his face, and he starts walking out.
I tuck my legs in to avoid hitting the doorframe, and cringe at the stupid pain.
Peter walks slightly faster when he hears my hissing.
That makes me smile a little.
He stops in front of the nurses office.
“ Aw, come one!” he complains. “It’s closed!”
I shake my head. “ Peter. Peter, I can walk. I just..need some help.”
He shakes his head. “No, no I can carry you. Lemme just.. Oh! There’s a clinic not far from here. I’ll just take you there.”
I groan. “Why are you coddling me Parker, I’m fine!”
He jogs down the sidewalk towards the clinic.
I bet people are like, “what the heck?”  Then again, this is New York.
Luckily, there’s only a couple people in the clinic, and I had my ankle set in no time.
When he drops me off at my apartment, I smile.
“ Thanks, Pete.” I say, patting his cheek.
Even in the dark, I could see his face turn 100 shades darker.
“My pleasure.” He pauses. “Y/N,
what’d you mean when you said "of course I’m light for you” earlier?“
I chuckle. "I just meant that you know, work out and stuff.” I poke his arm. “I see the muscles.”
He lowers his head bashfully. “Oh my god.” he whispers.
He looks relieved.
We attempt to do the experiment again the next day. This time, I make sure the ground is clear so I don’t trip and sprain my left ankle too.
I hand Peter the Epsom Salt, and he laughs.
“Finally got it.”
I smack his arm. “Shut up.”
I suck my teeth as we mix in our ingredients.
“Okay, Peter, I’m like 75% sure this won’t explode in our faces.”
He lowers the temperature on the burner, smirking.
“ And I’m like 100% sure it won’t explode.”
I scoff. “ Zip it, Parker.”
•••••1 month later•••••
Peter POV
I can’t help but stare at Y/N the whole lunch time.
Ned shakes his head. “Admit it. You’re smitten.”
I wave my hands frantically. “What? No, no! I was just- I was just uh–”
Ned scoffs. “You know, I bet if you tell her you’re Spider–”
My eyes widen. “No, no don’t even think about it! Anyway, I bet she’d hate me for it.”
“Ha! So you do like her! Peter and Y/N, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g..”
I sigh. “No, Ned, no!”
Ned turns around “Oh hey there, Y/N.”
My jaw drops.
I turn around too, and Y/N is standing there, her arms crossed.
Then she waves her arms, horror on her face.
“Peter Parker! Spid-”
Ned shushes her, patting the empty bench spot in between us.
She sits down, and grabs my face.
“Peter! You’re Spider-Man?! You know how much danger you’re in? You could get killed out there, swinging on those weak webs of yours–”
“-they’re actually ridiculously strong.” Ned interrupts.
“Whatever! That’s dangerous. You could die Peter, do you know what that–”
Ned smirks.
Then he pushes Y/N into my arms.
She quickly scrambles off of me, red in the face.
“Ned! What was that for?” I scold.
He throws his hands up. “You guys obviously like each other! Just kiss already!”
Y/N shakes her head. Then I press my lips against hers, caught in the moments hype.
“Finally, you stopped being a creep and kissed her,” says a familiar voice.
I break away from the kiss and look across the table to see Michelle looking at us, her hands propping her chin up. Then she looks at me dead in the eye.
Y/N laughs, and hugs me, her mouth near my ear.
“ You better not die playing superhero out there, Parker,” she whispers.
I pat her back. “I won’t.”

Tell me if you’d like to be tagged in anything!!

The One On The Boat

Pairing: Jace Wayland x Reader

Summary: Jace tries to come to terms with the fact that Valentine faked your death and took you away as a child when he finds you well and alive on the boat - the only question is whether he’ll trust you or not after believing you were dead for so long.

A/N: I am literally so in love with Jace this season I could cry. Get ready for new imagines! (Also, should I do a part 2 to this?) 
As always, love you guys xx

MASTERLIST, MOBILE MASTERLIST (you can like it and save it for later!)


’Join me and my son’?” you scoff, mimicking Valentine, “It’s not like he’s running a family business!”

 “Quiet y/n,” Finn sighs, “You’re dead if he hears you.”

 “I don’t think him killing actual Shadowhunters is a good idea.”

 “Soon he’ll be able to create them and it won’t matter whether you’ve been here from the start or not,” he hisses, pointedly.

 “Well, that’s bleak.”

 “You’re just mad that Jace barely looked your way,” he scoffs. You pick up a sweater out of your suitcase and peg it at him but he just slaps it away.

 “That’s probably because he doesn’t recognize me after you basically hid me in a bunker for so long.”

 “Valentine was like a father to us. We had to follow him when he left the Shadowhunter world-“

 “And grow up to be the new generation of Circle members and fulfil his wishes blah blah blah,” you groan, “It really wasn’t your choice, Finn.”

 “I’m your older brother – of course it was my choice,” he says sharply, “Now finish packing – Valentine wants us to join him in training Jace tomorrow.”

 “Training Jace?” you frown, “What does that entail?”

 “I guess we’ll find out,” he shrugs, heading out the door. You sigh, lying on your bed.

 Finn had always been a follower – but he’d practically turned into Valentine’s lapdog since he hit puberty. Somewhere deep down you understood that he just wanted a father figure – someone to be proud of him- but it got annoying since you didn’t agree with anything Valentine believed in yet had to choice but to stick around for your brother and due to the fact that Valentine had raised you.

 Until the age of 10 you’d grown up with Alec, Jace and Isabelle but when Valentine faked his death, he took you and Finn with him. For a while you laid low – there wasn’t any intense training or torture – just what felt like long road trips when you were on the run.

 But now, with everything back in full swing, you were scared. Finn may have been okay with following Valentine blindly, but you weren’t and with Jace joining you, you couldn’t reach out to the Clave or anyone at the institute in fear of being reprimanded as Valentine’s right hand.

 Was pretending to be Valentine your ideal weekend? No. Did you enjoy being a bald, 40 something year old man? No.

Was there a possibility you could get killed doing this? Yes.

 But you had no choice in the matter.

 While Valentine was pretending to be Clary  and helping Jace ‘escape’, you, Finn and a few others were playing his decoys.

 Unfortunately, things turned sour when Jace stuck a sword through two of the decoys.

“Son of a bitch,” Finn says, about to lunge for him. You pull him back, “That’s enough – no more of us should have to die for this stupid game,” you sigh. Finn pulls you back but you rip your arm out of his grasp.

 “JACE!” you yell, stomping toward him. He spins around and shoves his sword through your stomach.

 When he pulls it out his eyes widen.


 So maybe coming out of the shadows still looking like Valentine was a mistake, but there wasn’t much you could do about it now.

 “Silly girl,” Valentine huffs, unveiling himself from being Clary. Jace stares between the two of you, “H- how – how is she still alive? I – I thought-“ he looks at you, “ I thought you were dead!?”

 “Clearly, whilst you’re a great fighter, your loyalties aren’t with us,” Valentine sighs, “Tie him up,” Valentine calls out, waiting for two men to get a hold of Jace, “Finn, come make sure your sister is okay,” he says, walking off.

 “Finn?” Jace mutters, becoming further confused, “Y/N!” he calls out, watching you blink in and out of consciousness.

 When you come to, Finn is by your side wearing a deep frown.

 “You’re lucky Valentine didn’t throw you into the water after you-“

 “Ruined his little game that killed 2 of our people?” you snap, “Oh, I’m sorry for saving your life!”

 “You could’ve died. You’re healing rune didn’t kick in for hours!”

 “Hours?” you raise a brow, “Jace, is he-“

 “Valentine is teaching him a lesson,” Finn leers. His eyes widen when he notices you pulling the drip out and standing up. He steadies you by the shoulders, “What are you doing?”

 “I’d like to go sleep in my own room, if that’s okay with you?!” you say sarcastically. He nods, letting you walk past him. Once you’re out of the room, you speed down the hallway, using your enhanced heading to try and listen in for Jace.

 You hear Valentine telling his people ‘it’s enough’ and to ‘string him down in an hour’.

 ‘String him down?’

 The only place he could be strung up was the basement level of the boat.

 You wait until there’s silence to walk in and sure enough, there he is, strung up from the ceiling with his head hanging low and blood splattered everywhere.

 “Son of a bitch,” you mumble, cursing Valentine. Jace’s head bobs up with a low groan.

 “Y/N?” he sighs, sounding relieved, “I’m so sorry – I didn’t – I didn’t know it was you. How are you – I don’t-“

“Shhh,” you hum, cupping a hand over his mouth. He winces at the contact. “Sorry,” you whisper, pulling your hand away, “Just let me get you down first.”

 He bites his lip to keep from groaning as you untie both hands and he drops to the floor in a heap.

 When you try to help him up, he pushes you away, “Don’t-“ he says through gritted teeth, spitting out blood, “Not after what I did to you.”

 Despite him acting like it was because he didn’t want to hurt your again, you doubted it was something else.

 “Are you scared you’ll hurt me or that I’ll hurt you?

 He glares at you through his long lashes, “How are you alive?”

“Valentine faked mine and Finn’s deaths along with his,” you sigh, “Just let me activate your healing rune and then we can talk, okay?” you ask hesitantly, kneeling down beside him. He nods and your eyes skim his body trying to locate it.

 “Here,” he says, guiding your hand towards his ribcage. You glide your stele over it and he inhales sharply before exhaling in relief.

 “Tell me,” he says, “Now. I need to know I can trust you.”

 “You can’t,” you shake your head, “You can’t trust anyone here. My loyalties, they’re – they’re to my brother and his are to Valentine.”

 “Well, I want to trust you,” he says, “So tell me.”

 “Not here,” you say quietly, helping him up. You stagger towards your room, struggling with Jace’s weight. You place him down on your bed but he tries to climb off, “You should be lying down. I stuck a sword through you,” he says, tugging your hand towards the bed.

 “I’ve pretty much healed completely,” you lie. Jace could see you wincing but doesn’t argue when you push him back down – even as a child, you were stubborn.

 Jace closes his eyes and listens as you explain how you were forced to follow Finn and Valentine and how all this time you’ve been on the run.

 “So you’ve had no say?” he asks.

 “I have to take responsibility for my actions, Jace – they’re mine, after all. It doesn’t matter who influenced them and you’ll do well to remember that.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “What you do here – what you do from now on – it’s all on you. It doesn’t matter who forces your hand because it’s your hand, Jace. Everything you do, it leaves a scar.”

 He nods quietly, watching your eyes well up with tears.

 “Why haven’t you ever tried to escape?”

 “I did try – a lot, when I was younger. Each time I failed, Valentine would break me- slowly.”

 “I know the feeling,” he sighs.

 “You don’t,” you shake your head, “And you have to get out of here before you do.”

 “How?” he asks. You run the tap, wetting a cloth and gently wiping away the smudges of blood on his face.

 “I’ll help you.”

Reflections (part 2)

A/N: Alright so I couldn’t think of who would be a good right hand man for Lafayette, so I just made up a character because I needed a secretary/Mushu character. Also, I’m going to alter history a bit(or, a lot) to work for the story. Sorry!

Blog tags(if you want to be tagged to get a notification for the next(maybe final? idk) chapter just message me!): @neaeri , @superwholockbooknerd526,@jantales

Word count: 3925

The laps were pure torture. You didn’t realize just how out of shape you were until you made your last round back to the tents, nearly collapsing at the passing. Lafayette just spectated, watching from his own tent with his feet up and eating grapes as if he were king. You would punch him, if he were not your commanding officer.

You were panting, leaned over with your hands on your knees, sweat dripping down your face, and your stomach rolling. No one else seemed to be in such awful shape, but then again, no one else was a noblewoman. Your eyes looked up to your captain, glaring daggers as a smirk slid across his lips. You stood up, tall and proud as if the last laps had not happened. You could vomit later. He stood up, setting the vine down and walking over, hands hooked behind his back. As response, you gave him a sloppy salute. He chuckled, patronizing your presence.

“Tell me, enfant. Why did you even come?” He cocked a brow, and your blood began to boil.

“My name isn’t enfant, sir, it’s-” you hissed out, before cutting yourself off. You couldn’t give your real name, it’d be a dead giveaway of your sex. “William, sir.” You said the name slow and careful, as if trying to remember if the name was called. He scoffed again, making your anger rise.

“Let me see your credentials, William.” The way he said your name cause a chill to crawl up your spine, and you couldn’t tell if it was a sensual chill or an irritated one. You handed him your envelope, and he pulled out the letter, his brow narrowing. “Y/F/N Y/L/N?” He asked, looking to you and cocking a brow. You heard steps come up behind you, and a chuckle.

“I didn’t know he had a son.” You gulped hard, digging your nails into your skin. He doesn’t have a son, only you. You turn behind you and see a man come up to Lafayette, a man you saw stand next to him earlier. He seemed like a secretary of sorts. His tag read “Johnson”.

“Well, sir, he doesn’t talk about me that much.” You looked to the man beside your captain, looking over his shoulder and down at the letter. He was lean, maybe twice as old as you, and not nearly as handsome as the obnoxious man reading the letter given to your father.

“I can see why.” He spat out, pushing the letter back into your chest. You grabbed it, wide eyed and angered as he disrespected you. You gulped softly, lost for words as he began to walk away. He had made up his mind about you. You knew you’d prove him wrong.

Nothing else happened the rest of the night, dinner was uneventful despite the glares that were cast your way from around the tent. It was demeaning, and the food was less than appetizing, but with the way the day had gone, you were starved.

It wasn’t until you had escaped to your tent that you were able to relax. You released your concealed breasts, noticing a bit of bruising along the edge. Nothing you weren’t used to, considering the corsets. You let out a sigh, laying on the ground and staring at the long point of your tent. Distant voices were heard, but since you had set up your tent so far away, you couldn’t understand anything. It was easier this way, in case they did a random check, you wouldn’t be able to hide your deadly secret.

The floor was cold, and you missed your bed. More importantly, you missed your family, but that was the reason why you were here. This was hard, but it would be harder than getting a letter telling you that your father had died. That thought alone was enough to make you stay, and you accepted that. You hadn’t realized how tired your day was until you were incapable of keeping your eyes open.

A trumpet disrupted your slumber, distant, but definitely obnoxious enough to startle you awake. Still, darkness surrounded you, before dawn. Did people really get up this early just to train? You thought. An annoyed groan passed through your lips as you stood up, forcing the bandage around you before anything else. Your vision was blurry with fatigue, and you weren’t sure if you were putting on your uniform quite right. However, that didn’t matter, if you didn’t leave now you were in for an earful from an annoying Frenchman. You parted the tent, hair dangling loosely from your messy ponytail as you look out at the barely lit field. The men were already in line. Your eyes widened in frustration as swears passed through your lips. How could men get ready so quickly.

You stumbled down the hill, finishing tying up your boot as you did so, shuffling behind a few men and coming into the commander talking mid sentence. Unlike the rest of the shoulders, his shirt was off, showing off every tanned, toned muscle that he had. A gulp lodged in your throat as you collected yourself and stood in line. If you were lucky, he might not have seen you come down.

“- for the day.” He turned his body to look to the end of the line. “Thank you for joining us, L/N. I hope your beauty sleep was worth it.” Unfortunately, you weren’t that lucky.

“Sorry, sir…” you started, but chuckling beside you caused your to trail off and heat to touch your cheeks.

“Alexander, thank you for volunteering for my next subject.” You looked towards the man who chuckled, a smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. He looked at Lafayette wide eyed, opening his mouth to coming up with an excuse, but shut it the second he realized it wouldn’t help. Instead, he just grumbled and moved towards the captain. Lafayette wrapped an arm around Hamilton, who looked less than happy to be a volunteer.

“Laf, is this really-”

“I want you to climb up that pole,” he gestured to a pole at least 30 feet tall and had quite a bit of girth as well, enough so that you couldn’t wrap your arms around it, “and retrieve the American flag. Do you understand?” He asked, cocking a brow, smirking down at him. Hamilton rolled his eyes and walked over to the pole. From the pale light now peaking over the mountains, you could see it was most likely a log, a blunt ending just above

“Yeah, I can. And I’ll do it with my shirt on.” He chuckled, preparing to climb the intimidating pole.

“Hold on, amie.” Lafayette cut Alexander’s movements off, and walked over to Johnson who was holding a box. “You didn’t think I was going to let it be that easy, did you?” He chuckled as Laurens’ shoulders fell.

“No, of course not, cap’n,” he mocked, crossing his arms over his chest. You could tell that the two, as well as Laurens and Mulligan, were all friends and allies. If anyone else were to sass Lafayette, they’d get scolded. Instead, he walked over with two spheres in his hands, leather straps dangling down. Once he was beside Hamilton, he lifted one up and rested it in his hands, still holding on.

La vaillance. Valor, courage.” He said, his accent thick and beautiful. He finally dropped his hands from Hamilton’s grasp, watching the large bronze disk drag him down. There was chuckling from the group. Once Alexander had regained his composure, Lafayette handed him the other disk. “Le puissance. Power, strength.” Again, Alexander nearly collapsed, and the irony caused more chuckles to erupt among the crowd. He stood up with a blush, sighing and looking to the pole, one disk for each arm.

“Watch and learn boys!” Hamilton called out, cocky. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He lept on the pole, lacking grace, and tried to shuffle up. Without the weights, it would’ve been easy, but they began dragging him down, making it difficult to lift his arms above his head to grab further up. He began sliding down, until his butt hit the ground with a thud.

This process continued, including you, it all ended with a thud on the ground and an inability to reach the top pole.

But things weren’t always so equal.

Training was beyond intense ou fell behind on running hikes, you had probably caught yourself in barbwire more times than you can count, and for someone who was fed a silver spoon her entire life, building up stamina proved difficult. The three men, Hamilton, Laurens, and Mulligan, continuously made your life difficult. Sometimes, your failure was their fault, other times, you were just inept.

Lafayette condescended you. He repeatedly insulted the entire group, but you seemed to be his least favorite. He’d say you were hopeless, and there was no way to make you into a man. About a month had passed when his patience war thin, and you were sitting on a log, taking off your shoes to tend to your sore feet. His shadow loomed over you in the light of the pale of the moon, and his hand wrapped around your horse’s rein.

“You aren’t suited for the rage of war. Pack and go home, before you get yourself killed. How could I make a man out of you?” He said, his face stone cold as he dropped the rope in your lap and walked away. Your shoulders fell as he said the harsh words, and for a brief moment, you knew he was right. Would it be easier to go home, to face your family after you betrayed them? Your home would be a prison, and a temple to mock by the neighbors since their daughter ran away and didn’t do anything when she returned.

No, that wasn’t fair.

You stood up, determination in your eyes. The stress of the day evaporated instantly as you looked at the unyielding pole, the flag flickering with the gentle wind. The disks sat at the bottom, people occasionally trying again and again, but never succeeding. You stood at the base of the pole, staring up the long shaft and grimacing. It was so tall, you shook your head and grabbed the disks, noticing that despite your failed efforts at training, the disks were still easier to lift. It gave you satisfaction to say the least.

Again and again,  you climbed up the pole with your arms secured around it, but again and again, you never got passed ten feet before sliding back down to the cold ground, chilled by the night. You let out a hushed, aggravated sigh as you looked at the disks, the main reason for your failure. For a moment you just sat there in defeat, trying to think of an alternate way. Your father would say that the definition of insanity is doing the same exact thing over and over again, and expecting a different result.

So, why not try something different?

A smile slid across your lips as you stood up. “I’m thinking about this all wrong,” you mutter, lifting up the disks and looking at both of them. “They’re not an obstacle…” you swung the disks around the thick log, and they easily wrapped around each other and clanked as they settled. “They’re the solution.”

Tugging on the ropes to make sure they were secure as you began to climb the pole, one foot at a time. It was rough, god it hurt every muscle in your body, but you were getting farther than you had the entire night. Mountains surrounded you, but you could feel the tickle of the sunlight peak up above the horizon. Did the bugle blow? You couldn’t tell, all you could hear was subtle ringing, and what sounded like cheering. You didn’t dare look down, you were so close to the top. All you had to do was sit, unhinge the flag, and you’d be done. You’d have proven yourself.

As your thoughts raced, your foot slipped, causing your body to slam into the pole. Your grip tightened, making sure not to fall from this height despite the shaking in your hands and the white of your knuckles. You kept going, just five more feet. Beads of sweat had trickled down your neck just like so many other times this past month, but none were more satisfying than when you realized that you were now sitting on top of the log, looking down at the cheering men. Quickly, you grabbed the flag, waving it around.

At that time, you saw Lafayette emerge from his tent, confused as to why his soldiers were causing such a commotion. You let the flag fall from your hands and fall onto his head before he could look up and see who retrieved it. The disks sat on your shoulder, and you have never felt prouder than when the Marquis himself smiled proudly up at you.

It was that moment of confidence that allowed you to continue with ease. The group of boys were decent to you, in fact aided you in some cases. You grew stronger, faster, smarter. You even were able to take down Lafayette in one-on-one combat training. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good to kick him in the face. After the pole, he never disrespected you again.

While all was well and good, nothing could beat swimming in the pond about a half a mile from camp. Just because you looked like a man didn’t mean you had to smell like one. It wasn’t too deep, maybe 7 feet, and it was heated from the blistering sun’s rays on the surface all day. It felt nice on the sore muscles. Your horse was there as a place to put your clothes, so you didn’t have to put it on the ground. He was tied to a tree as you dived into the water, revelling in the feeling of being clean. You let out a long sigh, feeling the freedom of your chest relax on the water. By now, your breasts had gotten used to the bruising, but it still felt good. Like taking off a corset after the end of a long day. This was utter bliss.

Of course, that didn’t last long. Ripples disrupted your balance and your body collapsed into the water, looking up and seeing Lafayette’s secretary, Johnson, staring at you with a surprised look, before it relaxed. You were speechless, wide eyed, nervous.

“I-I…” You stuttered out, your cheeks bright red and covering your chest, even though the murky water hid it. He of course, saw, since you were on the surface. He just held up a hand.

“I know why your father never talked about his son, because he always boasted about his daughter.” He walked in further, causing you to shrink away. “I wouldn’t worry about it, I don’t exactly prefer women.” He scoffed, and that alone allowed you to relax. He was in the same boat as you, if the general found out, you’d both be hanged for joining the army. He wouldn’t tell because you wouldn’t.

“When did you figure it out?” You asked, cocking a brow as you sat in a more shallow part of the pool.

“The second you created an alias. I know everyone that comes in and out of the army, every noble and their immediate family.” He looked over at you calmly, washing himself. “The captain is clueless, don’t worry.” You nodded in response, rubbing your arms a bit to get rid of dirt.

“Thank you…” You said, feeling better about the situation. He nodded, turning around and looking at the scenario.

“You’re either brave, or stupid, Miss Y/N L/N.” he scoffed as you glared at him, shaking his head. “Either way, you better stay underwater, because I know there are a couple of things they’ll be bound to notice.” He gaze shifted to the trail as three men, three very specific men, stripped as they ran and jumped into the water. You felt yourself heat up as you swam to the center, using a lilypad to guard yourself from their gaze.

“William!” Hamilton called out.

“H-hey guys, how’s it going?” You asked, your voice deepening once more. Johnson just sat around idly, the boys didn’t even know it. “I was just washing up, but I’m clean now, and I’m going to go, bye bye.” You dipped behind the rock to hide.

“Oh come on, don’t be shy!” he continued, watching Alexander swim over with Hercules. He draped his arm around you. Instantly, you sank away, swimming behind the rock.

“We’re sorry bout the way we treated you, but we can chill now, right?” He asked, wiggling his brows and laughing as they waded over. “How about we start over. I’m John Laurens,” he shook your hand and afterwards you pulled away, smiling awkwardly as you ran right into a large form.

“And I’m Hercules Mulligan.” He said, mimicking Laurens’ tone. An awkward laugh escapes your lips.

“Hello, Hercules Mulligan.” you repeated, feeling heat return to your cheeks as you realized you were against a very, very naked man.

“And I’m Alexander Hamilton, king of the rock.” You gaze looked up at the boulder you were hiding behind to find Alex standing tall and proud of what he had. You immediately looked down as Mulligan pulled away. “And there’s nothing you princesses can do about it.” You muttered a prayer as you made sure to keep your gaze overt. Laurens just laughed.

“Oh yeah?” Laurens boasted, laughing and nudging you. “Well I think Will and I can take you down!” You gulped and swam away, looking to Johnson for help. He was holding back laughter and you wanted to smack him.

“I really don’t want to take him anywhere.” You replied, gulping. Laurens began to swim after you.

“What? But we have to fight!” You held up a finger as you kept moving away.

“No, we don’t. We could just… close our eyes and… swim around!” You suggested, offering a smile as John grabbed your arm.

“C’mon, don’t be such a-”

“Snake!” Johnson shouted, stumbling out of the water in a beautiful dramatic display. While you knew what he was doing, the others didn’t, and began yelling like children and climbing on the rock. You took this opportunity to walk back on shore and grab your towel from your horse, wrapping it around you. You let out a sigh, rubbing your arms.

“Boy… that was close.” You said, Johnson already having his clothes on.

“You can say that again.” You offered a smile as thanks, gripping the towel tighter as you began to wring out your hair.

“I never want to see a naked man ag-” Before you could finish speaking, what seemed like the rest of the camp came running past you, all men, all naked. You felt violated. Johnson, who has yet to give his first name, chuckled.

“Come on, get dressed.” He said, using himself to let you do so as he watched the men, what seemed to be one specific man , swim around. You didn’t inquire, but found it charming that he had a crush. You slipped on your tunic and tights, wrapping the cloth more loosely since the tunic was blocky on your form anyways.

“Thanks Johnson.” You said, tying your hair back.

“Adam, you’re welcome.” He smiled back as you began moving down the path.

The walk started out silent, a simple walk back to camp under the moonlight of the evening, you’ve been in similar position, except you were in ornate attire and the man walking with you was definitely straight. Adam cut the air with his sigh.

“So, why’d you do it?” He asked, cocking a brow and looking at you. For a moment you hesitated, but decided you needed someone to confide in.

“My father isn’t…. He’s sick. He was going to force himself out here and I can’t…” Your voice faded, but he didn’t need clarification.

“That’s selfish, don’t you think?” You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came out. He was right. It was selfish of you to leave your family and worry about your wellbeing, but…

“I have way more of a chance than he could, and that’s enough for me.” You concluded, raising your head up and seeing the tents. Adam chuckled.

“Well, they may not be there physically, but you certainly have the balls to be a man.” You both laughed, and it made you realize that a month ago, you would’ve been repulsed by such a comment.

“William,” you heard a French accent interrupt your laughter. You looked over to see Lafayette standing outside his tent with the flap open. His expression was stoic. You glanced at Adam briefly, before walking toward your captain. Adam mentioned he had patrol anyways. Lafayette held the flap open for you as you walked in.

“Is something wrong, sir?” you inquired, looking at him with a furrowed brow.

“On the contrary, I called you here because I wanted to formally, well, informally praise you.” The stoic expression broke as he shook your hand. It was warm, callused, large in comparison with yours. It caused your heart to skip a beat. A gulp lodged in your throat as he pulled away suddenly, only able to nod before swallowing.

“Thank you sir, but I don’t understand.” You muttered, watching Lafayette sit at his desk. His smile remained as he watched you, scanning your features.

“Well, enfant, I almost sent you home. In the matter of two week after, you became on of my top soldiers. I’m glad you’re stubborn.” He chuckled leaning back before standing up again, he seemed as though he was fidgeting, as though a thought was crossing his mind that he didn’t want. He let out a sigh, “I’m worried about the front lines,” he admitted. “General Washington said he’d write as soon as they reached camp, and that should’ve been two weeks ago. I have to wondered if maybe something happened or he’s given up on me, I-”

“Pardon me, sir but that’s a load of crap.” You blurted, interrupting him. The comment shocked him, as well as yourself, but you continued. “If it weren’t for you, sir, I wouldn’t have had the ability to overcome my weakness and be the wo.. Person I am today.” You said, a soft smile touching your lips. “I couldn’t ask for a better captain.” He looked at, an expression that you couldn’t read crossing his sharp, handsome features. You’d add that he was also beautiful to look at, but that might not work out well. He took a couple steps toward you, opening his mouth to say something, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you watched his eyes in curiosity.

“Captain!” Adam burst into the tent panting, and holding a letter. You were broken from your trance as both you and Lafayette looked at his secretary. “Urgent news from the general!” His expression returned to its stiff nature, grabbing the letter as his eyes glazed over it. He looked up to you, and then to Adam.

“He wants us on the front lines,” He said, almost in shock. You felt your gut tighten in unwanted fear, but shoved it down as you looked at him and drew in a breath.

“Well, looks like we’re going to war.” You said.