٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- gachiakuta, genshin, JJK, i post sfw content. this includes stuff like fluff, angst, crack, at most suggestive, etc. i’m not including explicit smut purely because i’m not good at writing it, but PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF THIS WHEN INTERACTING, including in requests!
- masterlist: HERE
⟡ ݁₊ i’m perfectly fine with people sending ideas for fanfic drabbles or whatever’s knocking around in your head through the ask page, but i can’t guarantee i’ll write it! i'll try my best, though <3
Summary: As an unrecognizable supporter in the Cleaners, you feel like you're drowning, especially on a mission that nearly takes your life. Follo is there to pull you to shore.
Tags: follo x reader, gn!reader, sfw, one-shot, angst kinda, meet-cute except plot twist reader lowk almost gets slimed out, reader is vaguely mentioned to be older than riyo, serious concept sprinkled with crack
A/N: i cranked this out in an hour??? hello??????
MASTERLIST
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
No one really talks about the risks a supporter takes whenever they follow a Giver into battle. At least, not as much as they should.
You've been in the Cleaners for what, two years now? Throughout your entire time in the organization, proper friendships have eluded you. There's a part of you that feels like something's just a little bit wrong with you, for not being so willing to put your all—including your life—into supporting Givers on the front lines. In fact, every other supporter you've worked with is perfectly keen to do so.
So, what's your problem?
You're not really sure. In fact, it's what plagues you on this particular mission, feeling your heart leap into your throat as a Trash Beast charges you after you try helping an injured Giver to safety.
Stupid. Stupid. Stay out of the line of fire when the Givers are clearing them out; that's the number one rule. Literally, it's the only thing you have to do!
While carrying the younger girl—Riyo, whose name you can barely remember—you won't be able to get both of you out of the line of fire in time. It's at this moment that it hits you. You or her. Who do you choose to save?
You can picture it so easily. Someone like Gris, a supporter you've talked with on occasion, shoving Riyo out of harm's way, glad to be able to protect. It's my job, he'd say, even with some sort of nasty, near-fatal wound. Figures. You're nowhere near as selfless, but…
It's hard to describe the adrenaline rush that comes when your brain finally goes oh shit, you're going to get killed. Your senses shut off, and suddenly, you're operating on base-level instincts. Almost like the factory settings of a crappy device.
Who'd have thought your immediate instinct is to push Riyo to the side as the Trash Beast opens its jaw, ready to crush you?
It's weird how a person has certain epiphanies when facing mortal danger. It hits you all at once that supporters aren't a benevolent cannon-fodder type of people. Maybe they're just humans operating on the inherent wish to help other humans in times of crisis. Maybe there's nothing wrong with you, after all.
You kind of miss those self-preservation instincts, though, no matter how cynical they were. Being a Trash Beast's chew toy isn't the way you want to go out.
It's then that you feel a strong hand grip your wrist and yank hard. Suddenly you're flying back, thudding on the ground just inches away from where the Trash Beast rages forward, its jaw snapping shut with a sickening metallic whine.
"We have to move!"
You don't have to tell me twice. You can't see much in the dust the Trash Beast kicks up, but you do see a hazy outline of a person, and the same strong hand reaches out to guide you to safety. Behind you, there's a near-deafening screech that grates at your ears, sounding eerily similar to a tool shearing through metal. And when you throw a wild glance behind you, well, it's exactly that.
Riyo's up on her feet again—rather, midair—slicing through the Trash Beast with her jinki like she's cutting through butter, a wild look in her eyes. Seems like even a hard hit to the head can't keep her down for long… jeez.
Once a reasonable distance away, the dust thins out, and you can finally see more than a few feet in front of you. Ducking behind a pile of trash, you try to catch your breath. "Well," you breathe, dazed. "That was…"
"Are you okay?" the same voice asks. You blink, your vision clearing, and suddenly you're face-to-face with bright, soulful golden eyes. "You didn't get hurt, did you?"
"Um," you manage, very eloquently. You can't really think straight. All that's going through your mind is holy shit, I almost just died, and oh wow, he has super pretty eyes.
"That was brave, getting Riyo out of the way," he adds. As your brain finally gets back with the program, you recognize him from the odd mission or so. And even though you aren't really buddy-buddy, his eyes crinkle in what must be a smile. Hard to tell with the masks, sometimes. "I've seen you around before." He echoes your name, and you're surprised. You didn't expect anyone to notice you, really.
"Your name is Follo, right?"
"Yeah, that's me." He chuckles a bit but winces when another loud crash shakes the ground. "That was really close. I'm glad I got to you in time."
"Me too… uh. Thank you, seriously," you blurt out. "I literally almost became a Trash Beast's lunch. And, like, I know it's in the job description to support the Givers on the field, but I'm pretty okay with not supporting someone to the point I die."
Follo snorts. "I think that goes for everyone."
With one final resounding clang, the clearing abruptly goes quiet. Peering hesitantly over the pile of trash, you see Riyo standing over what was once a very terrifying Trash Beast, and you let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, she killed it. Thank goodness."
You offer Follo a hand as you get to your feet because, hey, it's the least you can do. The guy saved your life. And if you feel a rush of giddiness at the warmth of his grasp, even through the gloves, that's neither here nor there.
You smile to yourself. Maybe I'll give things a shot.
Isn't there a saying? You miss all of the shots you don't take, or whatever. You vaguely recall hearing this dude named Enjin say it, drunk off his ass, before going to chat up a pretty woman at a party in the Cleaners HQ.
"So, Follo," you muse, "Where are you from? You don't seem like an East Ward guy."
He nods. "You're right, actually." More lightheartedly, he adds, "Care to guess?"
"…North Ward?" you try.
The smile he gives you, with his golden eyes a soft, endearing contrast to the ruined landscape around you two, is totally worth almost dying for. Maybe your endeavors aren't hopeless, after all.
despite knowing for a fact that project hail mary was a success imagine the absolute rollercoaster of emotions eva stratt would have gone through. “I am the only one alive on this ship” holy shit bro is NOT an astronaut……….he doesn’t know how to fly that thing……….. “this is rocky and he lives w me now!” first contact with a sentient alien has been made by a middle school teacher. *rocky makes a pop culture reference* ok so in between the fate of their planets resting on their shoulders they’d been having moving nights. “rocky’s ship is made of xenonite” ahhhhhh— “I’m turning around” awhhhh
