The only thing on my mind today was Andrew Minyard and his mocking salute.
It’s super shaky, messy, and rough and the quality sucks sooo bad (I’m sincerely sorry for that, I had insane trouble with the size and resizing, it’s super annoying plus tumblr loves to screw the quality) but anyway.
Now I really wanna animate a few scenes from the books (will only take a life time but whatevs, do I have something better to do with my life ? Yes definitely..but do I care? No.).
Also, thank you for 200 followers and welcome to the fandom who ever just discovered it!!
i say this every time, but seriously… read @tyranttortoise‘s Skeleton Squatters and the Landlady. this latest chapter is one of only innumerable reasons why it is forever in my top favorite fics, period.
… and talk about seeing fireworks with a kiss. <333 honestly red is my eternal weakness, and i’m not even mad about it.
Imagine: After you get hurt on a mission, John insists that you go home to get looked out. You’re still out for blood though, and not nearly as willing to let your target escape… especially, because your vendetta happens to be a personal one. John is having none of it though, and a fight ensues -one worthy of two assassins who happen to be entangled romantically.
TW: Violence in a romantic relationship. (Non-abusive though).
A/N: *Whispers* No one asked for this… but I wrote it anyway.
“John, get out of my way,” You said, clenching your jaw and inhaling what was supposed to be a calming breath. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I won’t hesitate to, if I have to…”
“Sorry,” John replied, in a low voice; curt yet somehow polite as ever, as he blocked your from pursuing your escaping target. “But, he’s not worth dying over.”
“He needs to pay,” you scowled, feeling your voice strain.
“He will,” John replied, drawing closer, in an attempt to help you. “Just not today…”
“Fuck off,” You snapped in an annoyed voice, steadying yourself against a nearby wall and weakly pushing him away. “I’m fine.”
John gave you a wary look over.
“Yeah,” he huffed, severely unamused, taking an intimidating step closer to you. “This isn’t debatable, (Y/N); We’re going home. Now.”
You let out a low growl; John may have been armed, physically much bigger, and, well, not bleeding half to death —unlike you—, but even that couldn’t keep you from putting up a fight and acting on pure rage. You didn’t even give yourself time to think before reaching for the tactical knife tucked at the back of your jeans and yanking it out with enough force to send a whooshing sound through the air.
John jumped back, dodging the knife and your attempted stabs with ease, deflecting each of your blows with a series of calculated blocks before prying the knife from your hand and throwing it across the floor.
“Alright,” You huffed, limping forward as you balled your much smaller hands into fists. “Hand to hand, then?”
“Seriously?” The man asked, almost indignantly, cocking an eyebrow. “We’re really doing this?”
“You should have let me kill him,” You bit back, bringing your hands to your face in fighting stance. “Babe.”
“I’m not going to fight you, (Y/N)” John huffed, before deciding to pull your jacket hood over your eyes and hit you in the chest hard enough to knock you back onto your ass —a somewhat idealistic attempt to dissuade you from carrying on any further.
You groaned, rubbing your chest with the palm of your hand and gingerly rolling onto your stomach in an attempt to push yourself back up into standing position.
“Stay down,” John barked, grabbing you from behind and restraining you.
“Let go of me!” You screamed.
“Let it go.” The man forced through clenched teeth, tightening his grip around the you as you continued to thrash around wildly. “Is he really worth losing your life over!?”
“He needs to pay!” You struggled, kicking the wall in front of you and pushing off hard enough to send you and John crashing to the floor.
John let out a low grunt of pain with the hit, but was otherwise unaffected, managing to keep his arms secured around your body as he quickly disarmed you and pinned you down with his bodyweight. After a minute of rolling around and banging each other against various objects and furniture, John finally managed to get the upper hand: Pinning you against the wall, leaning in and searching your eyes.
“Honey, think this through,” He tried to reason, still struggling to restrain you as you tried to gouge his eyes out with your thumbs. “He’s already gone… If you carry on like this, you’re going to bleed out… then you’ll never get your revenge.”
You narrowed your eyes at your long time partner, biting down on his shoulder and head butting him in the face hard enough to send a trickle of blood running down his nose.
“Yeah!,” You retorted. “Because you let him go, you bastard!”
John stared at you with bewildered brown eyes, deflecting a fury of punches and bites as you tried to barrel your way through him.
After what felt like an hour of screaming and fighting, John finally pinned you to the floor, sitting atop you and securing your arms down with both his hands. You let out a guttural sound, scrunching your nose for a moment before throwing your head back against the floor in exasperation and giving in to your exhaustion. John gave you a questioning look, as if to ask, “You done yet?”. You only scowled, letting your eyes search the room and lock on a last resort escape route.
“Don’t,” John warned, realizing your intentions.
He sounded tired; unamused and unwilling to let you put up a fight. The man let out an exasperated sigh, giving you a vexed and final look over. After a moment, he decided to do the only thing he knew would diffuse the situation entirely: He knocked you out with a quick blow to the back of the head and hauled you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.
“I told you this wasn’t debatable,” he said, lifting you up and ducking out through a nearby door.