hiii I really hope you're doing well! so uhm here is my order chef
so like something with the whole 141, angst and hybrids, was thinking with reader, fem, and reader being a carcal hybrid since they're pretty resilient under neglect and pressure, and prompt is forgotten, under pressure, royalty.
ty so much and lots of love, take careeeeeee
1.5k event rules 1.5k event masterlist
It’s not easy being the smallest member of a pride, let alone one like the 141. Though none of the men would use that word, it’s undeniable that there is a certain dynamic amongst the group akin to a lion's pride. A dynamic you still seem unable to fit into.
Though none of them have said it aloud, it is clear they all view you as subpar. Too small, too weak, some underdeveloped runt they have the misfortune of working alongside. It’s gotten to the stage that you can’t help but believe it too. Why on earth anyone expected a caracal to be able to keep up with a group comprised of big cat hybrids you are unsure of, all you know is they were clearly misguided.
It’s exhausting trying to keep up, chasing a goal that stays five feet ahead of you at all times leaves you running ragged with not so much as an acknowledgement from your comrades. The only one not invited to sit together at lunch, the individual whose opinion is missed during briefings, the last one to be allocated a role on ops. Your transfer request is sat pointedly on your bedside table awaiting a signature on the day you finally give up on the hope of finding a place here. If only you weren’t so stubborn maybe you’d already be off to a taskforce that you can be a proper part of.
Today may be the day you reach breaking point. The sun is sweltering, so much so that your skin feels as though it’s radiating heat. The mission is taking longer than anticipated, the taskforce having been sent to escort a royal diplomat visiting several countries in West Asia with the intention of solidifying recent allyship negotiations. The 141 has been contracted as additional support while the diplomat travels through one of the countries that has been displaying higher levels of civil unrest since the allyship discussions began. You weren’t particularly surprised when Price allocated you the job of perimeter surveillance, the only position outside of the government building. Though the captain justified the decision based on your higher aptitude to hot environments, you know it’s just his way to keep you out of the way.
The plan had been for the meeting to have concluded thirty minutes prior, a fact you knew well as you had been counting down the minute till you could finally get out of the unrelenting sun rays. The status check you had made to the team had gone unanswered which irked you. Any other day you may have prompted the team again for a response, but just the effort of moving your hand to press the transmit button on your comms felt like too much for your body currently.
However when the side of the building suddenly detonates your limbs seem to find it in them to move. The force is enough to have you tumbling, ears ringing from the noise for several moments. Dust fills the air, clouding your surroundings immediately. The area is chaotic, people running in every which way, shouts echoing from various directions. Gripping your rifle tightly you sprint toward the building, barking into the comms as you navigate through the thrums of individuals. “Anyone copy?! What the fuck just happened?!”
Again your words go unanswered. Scrambling over the rubble you begin to search through the half demolished building, eyes peeled for any sign of your team or another familiar face, but instead all you find is people scattering. Your ears swivel, attempting to dissect any distinct voices over the layered shouts, that’s when you hear the helicopter.
You would like to say you are a relatively collected individual, working in a field where you can’t afford to let emotions cloud your judgment, however in this moment all of that flies straight out the window. With your heart sat heavily in your gut you sprint back outside, head snapping from side to side in an attempt to spot the aircraft. As soon as you do, your fears are confirmed. The taskforce’s evac chopper, your taskforce’s evac chopper, speeding off from the disarray without you.
The rifle falls limp in your hands, dangling from the strap hooked over your shoulder as you stand watching your only method of transport disappear from sight. Shocked is not exactly what you’d describe your emotions as, it’s a scenario you had already mulled over in the weeks prior, the thought of being forgotten completely, but it’s still a sharp stab in the gut watching it occur.
The sound of gunshots has you snapping out of your daze, spinning on your heels to witness the groups of armed individuals begin to swarm the surrounding areas, gunning down anyone in their path. Pieces fall into place quickly, a targeted political attack, civil unrest escalating into a full blown uprising.
Without a second you launch into the air, landing yourself on the roof of one of the nearby buildings. Your legs kick into overdrive, sprinting along the length of the structure before leaping to the next closest building. From your vantage you can see that it’s not just the political areas that were targeted, but rather the entire city seems to be in disorder. Your chances of making it out of this place alive are growing slimmer by the second. The best option you have is to find a way out of the city without navigating the hostiles currently occupying the streets.
Your breathing is coming in sharp gasps, each direction you turn offering no solution for your retreat. It’s as you leap to another building that you spot it, a drain cover. Jumping down from the roof you land steadily alongside it, wasting no time to haul it open and drop into the dark hole, pulling the metal plate back in place.
Even though you were several feet under the rest of the city, the sound of chaos still echoed below, your ears twitching each time a particularly loud explosion hit, heart skipping a beat as the world around you shook. It takes almost five hours to find your way to an exit outside of the city walls despite your pace not slowing under a jog for the entirety of your trip through the underground maze. The metal gate you find before you face out into the expansive desert you realise you now have to cross, just endless fields of sand stretching to the horizon. Over 100km. That’s how far the next established town is. And your only way to get there is to walk.
Shoving the gate open you stumble out into the open, thankful for the fact the sun has now dipped beyond the horizon. It will be too hot during the day to walk, so your best option is to trek through the night in hopes of making it to safety before morning. Out of the two water flasks carried on your belt, one is almost empty while the other is thankfully still full, if you don’t make it to your destination by morning, you’re gonna need it.
When you next glance at your watch three hours have already passed, the city long gone from the horizon behind you. The pads of your feet are beginning to ache, several hours standing still during the day on top however many kilometres you have already travelled are beginning to wear you down. The idea of finding some place to hunker down for a rest seems extremely appealing right now, but you are quick to shake that thought away, determined to continue as long as possible.
Despite your efforts, the sun begins to rise with still no view of civilization in sight. With a sharp sigh you find a place to sit, tucked alongside some large boulders and slightly barren trees you hope will offer some shade during the brunt of the day. You take a small sip of water, then curl yourself up to get at least a small amount of sleep. Wetness begins to prickle at the corner of your eyes as you try to settle, a thickness spreading in your throat. With a sharp swallow you force the emotions down, knowing you can’t afford to lose any water your body already has.
It’s three days later that you run out of water completely. The realisation that you are going to die out here becomes a sobering reality. You’ve walked for eight hours straight, multiple nights in a row, and still you haven’t found any sign of a town. Maybe your compass is broken. At this point you have no faith that the equipment the 141 gave you was even reliable. At least your gun works. The last reassurance you have that you have an option outside of death by heat stroke. An option you might consider very soon.
The barrel offers a cool relief to your temple, drawing a puff of breath from your nose. Just one little twitch of your finger, that’s all it would take. Your eyes flutter shut, mentally counting down slowly.
The sound you make when you toss the gun out of reach is some sort of broken growl, drawn deep from your gut. Your head falls back against the tree you rest under, eyes glossing over, obscuring the view of the branches above. It doesn’t take long for unconsciousness to take over.
When you wake to find a masked man hovering above you, the instincts take over before you can so much as think. With energy you didn’t know you still had, you spring away from him with an alarming jump, propelling yourself well above his head height before landing firmly on all fours. The knife is in your hand before you have time to fully take him in, sharp blade clenched tight in your grip as you bare your teeth in a threatening hiss.
The masked figure holds his hands up in placation, an air of amusement wafting off of him, “settle down maus. I’m not going to hurt you.”
His accent catches you off guard, definitely not a local, something closer to German. Your eyes scan over his figure, noting the curled horns sneaking from the sides of his mask. Ram hybrid would be your guess, or something similar. If it weren’t for the fabric obscuring his face maybe you’d be able to tell better.
The figure takes a tentative step closer, tilting his head to the side, “what’s a little thing like you doing all the way out here?”
Your ears flick uncomfortably, still unmoving from your threatening stance. When you speak your voice is rough with dehydration, “I could ask you the same thing.”
He nods behind him, drawing your eyes to the humvee parked several metres away, “Travelling East. You look like you could use a ride.”
Military, that much is clear. Though you have no idea what military which raises some concerns. Seeming to sense your hesitance the man changes the topic.
“How long have you been out here Schatz?” he says rather gently.
“Got caught in the uprising I assume?”
When you nod he clicks his tongue, one of his feet stamping against the ground before he holds out a gloved hand. “Must be hot. Come, we have food and water.”
You tense, shrinking back on your haunches, “I shouldn’t, I have no reason to trust you. Besides I need to get back-”
The man cuts you off, voice sharp, “Back where? To the fotzen that left you in the first place?”
Your eyes widen, ears flicking again, “how do you-”
He clicks his tongue again, slipping a hand into the crease of your elbow and guiding you to your feet, “first eat, get some rest, then we will talk about your future plans.”
It’s a struggle to stay upright, legs threatening to give out beneath you. Noticing, the figure shifts his grip, practically carrying you into the humvee. There are other individuals in the vehicle but you have no time to take them in before he is placing you in one of the front seats and flicking the aircon vents to face directly at you before sliding into the driver's seat. A bottle of water is placed in your grip, the cap already off as he must have noticed the shaking to your fingers.
It’s only once the humvee is in motion and you have had a few desperate gulps of the liquid that you manage to form another question, “what do you mean by future plans?”
Even with the mask in place you are certain he is smiling beneath it, “only a fool disregards talent, I intend not to be one.”
Six months later you find yourself staring at some uncomfortably familiar faces, though unlike before when you stood alongside, you now stand opposite. Konig places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, tilting his head down to murmur in your tufted ear, “Show them what they let go of, they will not soon forget you again.”
At his encouragement your finger tightens over the trigger. A cool satisfaction fills your chest when you watch the first of them drop.
I have to get a new laptop apparently mine is officially dead dead😭
