Once, there was an island.... // MPHFPC one shots, imagines, and misc !

War Pigs { Reader POV }

it's not an x reader but its been a hot minute since i've written something that focuses on Y/N as an individual person. set during that part of LoS where everyone but emma n jacob r stuck in a cell :thumbsup:. this is kinda a mess but im in a bit of a slump rn lol
involves femme terminology so if ur uncomfortable w/ it like i am u have been warned 
inspired by the song by Black Sabbath, because i have an old mans music taste//

Now in darkness, world stops turning...

Y/N shook the bars, a bitter expression sewn into their features.
They hated being locked up, almost as much as they hated heat waves and room temperature water. The last time they got stuck in a position like this... let's just say it didn't end well for anyone. They had the scar on their knee and an annoying limp to prove it.
" They aren't going to break." Enoch mumbled, slouched against the wall in the cell across from them.
" Sitting around like corpses won't help anything. I have to try. Maybe I'll get lucky." Y/N snapped. 
" It's futile."
" God, why do you have to be like that? It's getting really damn annoying."
Enoch startled, then grumbled a response they couldn't hear and turned his attention to picking at his nails. Horace glared at him from across their cell.
Idiots. Y/N felt like they were surrounded by bloody fucking idiots. They shook the bars again. Idiots and pigs in suits.
Gods help them all.
A door slammed nearby, followed by the prim footsteps of a uniformed wight sauntering down the stairs. He stalked down the hallway, slamming a gun against the bars of Bronwyns cell and scaring her awake. Asshole, Y/N thought.
He stopped at their cell, studying them with blank eyes.
" Does girlie want out?" He cooed, cruelty brewing in his features.
They spit in his eye. Girlie wants you fucking dead.
The wight wiped his face clean with a disgusted expression, hardly hiding his distaste for the pissed off peculiar in front of him. Oh, how they longed to slam this asshats head against the cool metal beneath their hands. Then he grabbed the front of their shirt and pulled them closer, their chest banging against the same bars they wanted to bang his head against. What bitter irony. 
" Maybe you should start waving your little white flags." He practically growled, and Y/N had to swallow a laugh.
" The only thing I'll be waving," They said, with a cruel enough smile to match the wights. " is your decapitated head on a pike in front of your weeping fucking mother. And I don't care if I have to raise her from the damned dead to do it."
The wight stared them dead on, obviously not expecting such a brutal response. Maybe he should get flags of his own. Better used by a coward than someone like Y/N.
" I'm going to kill you." He eventually said. Y/N couldn't stop the sharp laugh this time.
" I'd like to see you try."

It was well over an hour later before another wight came by, and this time, he ignored them completely. Maybe it's because they were glaring right through his very being. Maybe wights actually had some semblance of a brain in those air filled skulls of theirs. 
Y/N had dealt with jails before. Never meant they had to be pleasant about it.
As they sat in the suffocating silence, their back against the wall, they made a firm decision.
They were going to burn this place to the fucking ground.
And every damn white-eyed bastard inside of it.
Fuck them all.
War pigs.
War pigs, every last damned one of them.

...Ashes where their bodies burning.