#this man made a murder suit and GAVE IT A TAIL
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I was rewatching Springtrap clips from the movie and-
HE HAS A TAIL!! LIKE OH MY GOSH HE HAS A LIL BUNNY TAIL
#this man made a murder suit and GAVE IT A TAIL#thats hilarious!!#gosh#also yes i he's technically “spring bonnie” i dont care#he became springtrap in the movie shush#self ship stuff#💀#springtrap#fnaf#fnaf movie
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A Lesson In Vulnerability
Request
warnings: mentions of murder, ooc James (my bad), angst, and probably grammatical errors
word count: 1.4k
(gif is not mine, again, found it on Pinterest)
It was hard. Being trapped in a hotel for all eternity with nothing to do. Boring as hell. Nearly unbearable. James had made it better. Given you nearly everything your heart desired. You had been one of the spare few who had resided in the hotel without getting killed by the infamous Mr. James Patrick March.
No, you had come to the hotel to end your own life, not expecting that it would backfire, trapping your soul within the confines of the property.
It was a boring existence. One in which you wandered the halls, hoping to come across someone worth talking to. That’s exactly how you had met James. You had stumbled into his suite right as he was in the middle of dispatching his latest victim. The sight should have scared you. Should have made you turn tail and run, but dying had changed the way you saw things. You weren’t afraid of him. Instead, you were curious.
Your relationship only grew after that day, but it would be many years before James gave in to his desires and took you to bed, truly making you his. You were the first person he’d shared such intimacy with after his falling out with his dear wife, who you knew as the countess. You’d only been in her presence a handful of times over the years of which you resided in the hotel.
James had confided in you his desires, his secrets and fears. He truly trusted you with the knowledge of which he gave. He was still closed off, though and you figured he always would be in a way.
For example, you had never seen him break. Never seen a single tear drip from his beautifully dark eyes. Never so much as seen a mournful look on his face. You didn’t know if he just never showed it, or if he was truly lacking such emotions. Would you become like that after spending centuries as a ghost? Or did James already have that darkness in him?
That’s exactly why you were in for the shock of your undead life when you opened the door to his suite and found him on his bed, head in his hands as he cried. His shoulders shook from the force of it. At first, you wondered if he’d been hurt, but no… that couldn’t be it, he couldn’t hurt as a ghost. At least not physically.
He startled when he saw you, having not heard you come in. He wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands and cleared his throat, trying to pull himself together. He knew you had seen him crying, but still he tried to cover it up.
“Darling, I wasn’t expecting you so soon-“ he stood up, looking at you intently, his usual pale face a bit red from crying.
You wanted to know what was wrong but you didn’t want to pry and risk upsetting him more. You decided it would be best not to ask, but as soon as you turned around to leave and give him space, he grabbed your hand. When you faced him again, a fresh wave of salty tears began to form in his eyes. He looked absolutely distraught and you wondered what thing could effect a man like him so much.
“Please stay, you mustn’t leave. You can’t leave like she did, I won’t allow it.”
At first, you were confused by his words. Who? Who left him? But then it clicked: The countess. His wife. You knew the story well by now, but seeing him so upset by it made it all the more real.
“I won’t leave James, please talk to me. You can tell me anything.”
He seemed to consider it for a second, which took you by surprise. You were ready for him to completely refuse you and your ‘sappy words of comfort’. You just wished he understood that even a man like him could be broken, and could be put back together with the comfort of someone else. He didn’t have to deal with this all on his own.
“It’s my anniversary. Nearly a century together my dear Elizabeth and I.” He swallowed hard after the words left his lips, as if they physically hurt him to speak aloud.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“What have I said about talking?! Talking does no good, talking is futile. It cannot change the past and it will not solve the future. Therefore I see no point.”
You wanted to scream right back in his face. Call him a selfish man who, even after beginning his relationship with you, pined after his estranged wife who couldn’t care less about him. You knew she hated him, and she had her reasons. He had done awful things to people she loved.
But you didn’t yell back. You were calm, after all you knew that he was only yelling because he did not know how else to expel his emotions. He’d never been taught, and he’d been stuck in a past that didn’t fit the world he now lived in.
Instead, you put a hand on his shoulder, which seemed to surprise him. He was so used to pushing people away that just the mere fact that you stayed sent a whole new wave of tears to spring up in his eyes.
“You don’t have to be afraid of vulnerability, James.”
“But my father said-“
“Your father isn’t here, James. You are your own man, don’t let him keep haunting you.” You looked up at him eagerly, cupping his pale cheek and wiping the remaining droplets of tears he had missed. His bottom lip quivered ever so slightly, no doubt his feeble effort of trying to pull himself together.
“Let it go, James. It must be so hard keeping it all inside for so long. You don’t have to be like that with me. Whatever you need, I’m right here.”
Carefully, he laid his head on your shoulder. You could tell this kind of physical touch was foreign to him. He was so used to roughing up bodies, he had forgotten how to gently touch one. To savor the feeling of another’s body against his in a non sexual or violent way, just a loving, gentle and caring way. He finally did let a few silent tears slip from his eyes as he wrapped his arms around you as well. He was taller than you, so he bent at the knees to better hold you. This was what he needed, for you to just stand there and let him hold your body, to remind him that not everything in this world had to be so rough and harsh. That he could enjoy being gentle too.
“I miss her.” He whispered, voice muffled against your shoulder as he seemed to squeeze you impossibly tighter, body nearly molding itself against your own.
“I know you do. You loved her so much, you still do.”
“How can you handle it? Knowing I love another woman, and yet you stay with me? Knowing I could never love you more than I love her-“
“I’m willing to settle, James. I’d be a fool to let you go. You’re such an amazing man. There truly is no one like you.”
You felt hot tears drip onto your neck, sliding down to wet your shirt no doubt. It was incredible how silent his cries were, and it made you wonder, with a bit of sadness, how he had perfected this silent cry. How many nights had he been crying alone to finally silence himself?
Never again, you decided. Never again would he have to cry alone in his room over the loss of love, the loss that looked over him like a thunder cloud filled with such heavy weight that it nearly crushed him. He had you now.
“Darling, you’re too kind. I do not deserve such kindness.”
“Nonsense James. You deserve just as much as anyone, if not more. I wish I could find the words to tell you how much I care for you.” You held him a bit tighter, rubbing his back before sliding his jacket off of his slumped shoulders. He needed to relax.
“Come lay with me James.” And with no resistance, he obliged, kicking off his freshly polished shoes as he crawled into bed. He seemed a bit confused when you started spooning him. That was usually his job when he was in the rare mood to cuddle.
He ended up relaxing into your arms instantly, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath.
As a ghost he couldn’t sleep, but he felt at peace for the first time in a century. All because someone took the time to see through his hard exterior and comfort him.
#evan peters#american horror story#evan peters icons#ahs fandom#american horror story rp#james march x reader#james patrick march imagine#james patrick march#ahs hotel#american horror hotel
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Hey Rebel 1/2 (Alpha!Ari Levinson x omega!reader)
Summary: Ari tags along on one of your missions, nearly jeopardizing it when he catches a whiff of your intoxicating scent.
Notes: GIF is not mine, this is not a beta’d read, A/B/O dynamics, reader is Afro!Latina and a CIA agent, reader is very bratty in this series
**
“I see the target,” you said through comms. The loud bass from the music reverberated in your ribs as you push passed a few people in the club.
The club was a lot more busy than you anticipated which made your mission quite easy for you.
You preferred to work alone on missions but with this particular target was violent and the two of you had history.
He killed your partner and made you watch. He kept you alive to continue the torment of know that your mistake had your partner killed.
Though he wasn’t just your partner, he was boyfriend at the time. His scent was everywhere in your apartment, and when it slowly started to disintegrate in spaces he would hang out the most, you wanted to tear your heart out.
When his clothes stopped smelling him and started smelling like you, you had nothing left of him but memories.
He wasn’t your mate necessarily, but you he made you feel safer than any of your previous boyfriends had.
His death put you in second gear on your missions. Your accuracy increased by 23% and you spent every waking minute in the gun range or in the gym. You were a forced to be reckoned with and quickly became Ethan’s favorite agent.
And Ethan couldn’t have his favorite girl off on a potential murder mission without backup.
So he sent in a newer agent with a promising record in shooting accuracy for support. And he sent in Ari, his other favorite.
If the target made your cover, he was as good as gone. So you put your pride aside and disguised as an exotic dancer.
It was the best chance to get close to the target without immediately getting made.
You tugged at the bottom strap of your solid gold top to alleviate some pressure on your ribs. You were sure they gave you a size smaller than you told them so your breasts are practically spilling out.
The bottom was a measly and thin, it was very obvious that it was made of leotard fabric and tailored it to be a bikini bottom.
You had absolutely no breathing room in this outfit. Every inch of skin on your body that could be visible is shown.
You’re not necessarily used to your sternum tattoo and your thigh tattoos being visible to the naked eye.
Continuing through the crowd, a man slapped your ass as he walked by making you immediately tense.
You looked over your shoulder at him, watching as he drank your figure in. One disgusting man isn’t going to jeopardize your mission, so you continued moving.
The mixed scents of designations with smoke and sweat made you nose blind to anything else so you didn’t bother sniffing.
You made eye contact with the newer agent when he started speaking on coms.
“I count five guards,” he says, pressing and adjusting his Bluetooth in his ear.
A scowl made its way onto your face when you saw a larger man in an all black suit look in the new agent’s direction.
He flagged down another man and they converse for a few paces, sending occasional glances in his direction.
Shit.
“Do me a favor and stop messing with your comms. You’ve been made. Go to the rendezvous point.” You commanded.
“I wasn’t made.” “Fine then I’ll let Tweetledee and Tweetledum take you into the back alley and beat you to a pulp,” you snap.
His eyes widen when the two large men push their way through the crowd and beelined straight for him.
“On it. Sorry.” He rushes out the back door with them hot on his tail.
Letting out an exasperated sigh, you rolled your neck around until it cracked. “Maybe you should go easy on the kid,” Ari points out.
“I’m not going to let anyone jeopardize my mission, Romeo.” “Your mission?” you opened your mouth to respond when a man whistled over at you, motioning you to come over once you made eye contact.
“Care to give me a dance, sweetheart?” The man asks, pulling you into his lap and squeezing your waist eagerly.
“Anything you want,” Ari’s gaze darkened when he saw your hips moving sensually to the soft beat of the music.
You threw your head back, your box braids swaying around until the landed on your chest. The man pulled you even closer, scenting the sensitive skin below your ear.
A omega woman approached Ari with a tray full of drinks.
“May I offer you a drink, sir?” She bends down slightly so he could take a drink from his seated position.
“Thanks honey,” he took out his wallet and gave her a twenty for her consideration. Her hand caressed his palm when she gingerly took the bill from his hand.
She moved her hair to the side, exposing her unmarked gland. “I’m not interested,” he takes a sip of his bourbon once the omega moves away from him.
Ari hasn’t had genuine relationship with an omega that wasn’t sexual. He initially fell for the bullshit theory that philosophers create centuries ago about the match made in Heaven.
An alpha and an omega destined to be together by the Alpha Gods.
He quickly realized when he married Rachel that not every omega can spark that special connection.
Just because omegas weren’t easy to find in common society, doesn’t mean they’re all special. Now he’s found himself caught in a marriage because an omega got pregnant
Neither of them have filed for a divorce yet because of the immense amount of paperwork and money that would go into it.
Ari came to terms with the fact that his child spends more time with the babysitter than with her parents.
With him away on missions and Rachel spending every waking minute with her sugar daddy alpha, the kid doesn’t stand a chance at a normal childhood.
And it’s not like anything is going to change any time soon.
Ari was seated in a loveseat across the room for you. He watches you over the rim of his glass, still dancing on the man’s lap.
He tilts his head as he tried to decipher your thigh tattoos from behind.
“I didn’t realize how tatted you were, Juliet.” You rolled your eyes at Ari’s remark and had glanced over the man’s shoulder at the target.
Rumlow. You thought to yourself. The man he was meeting hasn’t up yet, but you needed to prepare yourself for when he does.
Your strategizing was cut short when the man cradled your neck, smoothing a hand over your gland.
You stopped your movements, narrowing your eyes directly into his. The smile slowly fell from his face and a low growl grumbled in your chest.
His hand slowly dropped from your gland and you snapped at him.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” he holds his hands up and you slid off his lap.
“Pig,” you walked away from him and made your way to the bar. You were going to be giving drinks for the rest of the night. Screw the dances.
“Well that wasn’t very nice,” “Fuck you, Romeo.” He smiles against the glass before downing the rest of the bourbon.
Ari couldn’t help but notice the frequent head turning from groups of men when you walk by. Followed by the sniffs in your general direction.
Ari had to admit, you had an interesting scent. Actually, there is no scent initially and no way of telling what designation you were.
The way you carried yourself, you could easily be mistaken for an alpha. But Ari had a sneaky suspicion that you weren’t an alpha.
You were an omega that took the strongest scent blockers he’s even heard.
He’s smelled your original scent before. It was a faint whiff, but he smelled it and he’s been drunk for it ever since.
He made the connect that you scent spikes through the scent blockers when you’re aggravated about something.
Luckily for him, he had a knack for being aggravating. Truth was, Ethan knew you were capable of doing this mission alone.
It was Ari who insisted on tagging along.
But you will never figure that out. Or maybe you will, you’re quite the sharp tool. “We have a long night ahead of us. So let’s just play nice.” Ari suggests.
“Don’t provoke me and maybe I will,”
You continued serving drinks, getting more and more annoyed with every slap on the ass you received.
Ari kept an eye on the door to any new faces turn up and after a while, you realized how quiet your comms have been.
It’s been dead silent for at least five minutes. And Ari never knew when to shut up so you knew something was wrong.
You looked around for Ari only to find him staring at you confusingly. You needed to talk to him but you couldn’t pull him aside.
Otherwise that would break your cover. Letting out a sigh, you set the tray of drinks down at the bar and made your way over to him.
“Follow my lead,” you said to him, putting your hand on his shoulder and sliding into his lap. He keeps his hands by his side as he looked at you attentively.
You held his gaze for a moment before moving your hips against him and rolling your body. “What happened to comms?”
“No idea,” he slowly slides down the seat, his hands gripping the arm rests for dear life.
“Do you know how long they were out?” “No,” he grunts. “Do you think they’re onto us?” “There’s a chance. Are they looking?”
You glanced over his shoulder and saw Rumlow with a dancer giving him a lap dance. He downs his drink and shakes his glass at the bartender.
You felt Ari’s body tense underneath you and you raised a brow at him.
“If you want this to be believable, I need you to touch me.” “I’m trying to be respectful,”
“Please. Don’t pretend like your eyes haven’t been glued to my ass all night, Romeo.” He licks his lips and rested his hands on your thighs.
The second his hand touched your bare thigh, you inhaled sharply. Heat spread from your thighs up your waist and chest, finally resting on your face.
Your mating gland throbbed painfully and you stopped moving against him. His grip on your thighs tightened when you tried to move off of him.
Ari groans as the same burning heat took over him, his gland pulsing at the same rhythm as yours.
Your heart sank in your chest when you made the realization. Your scent was spreading passed the scent blockers.
Ari’s hands move up your back and held you close, dipping his head to inhale your sweet scent of honeysuckle and warm honey.
You let out a fearful growl when the tip of his nose brushes the base of your throat.
Your heart continued to patter in your chest when you made eye contact with the group of betas looking over at you, sniffing in your general direction.
The anxiety caused your scent to spike and you attempted to leave his lap once again but he held you down.
“Let me go,” “If I let you go now, they will swarm you. Just trust me,” he says the last few words slowly, removing his grip from your back.
He takes a few deep breaths, moving your body with each breath. You looked over at the initial group of betas who crinkled their noses and looked away from you.
His husky scent of pine and sandalwood invaded your nose in strong wafts. He was masking your scent with his, staking an unwanted claim. You had matched your breathing to his, bring you out of your anxiousness.
You hadn’t realized you were digging your nails into his dress shirt. Releasing him from your grip, you slid off his lap.
And when you looked over at the target, he was gone. “Mission’s over,” you hugged your arms to your chest and beelined for the changing room before Ari could reach for you again.
He waited for you outside in the car and you had changed back into your black slacks and white blouse.
You had pulled your box braids into a low bun. Sliding into the passenger seat, you tossed your duffel bag in the bag and sent a text to the new agent letting him know you were on your way.
Ari watched you turn your face to look out the window once you send the text. You were actively avoid any interaction with him.
At least before you entertained him with snarky remarks and insults. This was much worse. He reverses out the back alley and onto the highway.
“So are we going to talk about what happened in there?”
“Nothing happened, Levinson.” “Bullshit. You felt something and it scared you.” “No I wasn’t. I was pissed that I missed another chance to take the some of a bitch down.”
“Yeah, sure.” He says skeptically. “Why do you take such strong scent blockers?”
“Because of what happened in there. I’ve always had an intoxicating scent. And it’s gotten me into a lot of trouble as a teenager so I suppress it.”
“It is very intoxicating,” another silence fell over the two of you and Ari looked at you but your gaze remained outside the window.
“You’re really not going to talk about it?” “No. I already have a lot on my plate with work. I don’t need this right now.”
“Our primal instinct doesn’t care about our human duties,” “You sound just like those ancient men in those history books,” you dismiss.
“Look at me,” “No,” “Look at me, omega.” “You’re not my Alpha. You don’t tell me what to do.”
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I just want to talk to you.” “There’s nothing to talk about,” “Yes, there is. Stop dismissing everything, Y/N. This is serious.”
And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
You looked away from the window and said, “How serious is this, Ari? Hm? Is it life or death? Or just some stupid reason for Alphas to have complete control of another living being?”
You poked harshly at his arm and he growled at the tone you used and you emitted a growl low enough to make your chest vibrate.
“Y/N,” he warns. “I am not an omega you can just claim, Ari. If you try, I will make sure to make your life a living hell. So just drop it.”
You held his gaze for a few seconds before returning your gaze back out of the window. Ari made the conclusion like this was nothing like how they described it in the history books.
If you truly was his mate, then how the hell was he going to prove that to you? He had better luck finding a needle in a haystack.
**
Ari wasn’t sure what to do about pursuing you. Your inner omega was aggressive and untamed despite your calm human nature. You were strong for an omega and you made it clear that you had to be earned.
He spent weeks bring your flowers, contacting some of your coworkers to learn your favorite foods and wines. You didn’t trust him at all, but you decided to give him somewhat of a chance.
He took you on a date on horseback. Once he found out you grew up in el campo, he immediately researched the nearest horseback riding stable and booked a session.
He wanted to know as much about you as possible. From you of course, but you’ve been keeping him at arm’s length since you met him.
When he tried to lean in to kiss you after the date, you growled at him and retreated back into your house, leaving him completely dumbfounded on your porch.
You kept him on his toes, which encourages the chase. But Ari’s concern is that you never stop running from him.
That he won’t get the chance to catch you and he’ll lose you forever.
The last thing he had to remember between you was an argument. It was the day before he was set to leave for Ethiopia and wanted to see you before he left.
He would have been gone for weeks at a time and there was no telling when he would be back.
You were pissed because he hid the fact the was married from you. He thought you knew from Ethan but you hadn’t.
He replayed your argument almost daily in his head up until the drive back to your place after the assignment; his face would heat up at the mere thought of it.
“When were you going to tell me? Were you even going to tell me?” “Of course, I was- I thought you already knew.”
You scoffed and turned away from him to walk into your kitchen. “If I knew, I wouldn’t have given you the time of day.”
You took a glass from the cabinet and poured a bourbon on the rocks. “You barely give me the time of day now,”
“Any normal person would have gotten the hint by now and move on,” “Then I guess I’m not a normal person,” you down the drink in one shot, making a face when the burn lingers.
“Ari, I really don’t think this is going to work. You’re married. You obviously married her because you had some sort of connection with her. So focus on repairing things with her instead of starting new with me,”
“No. There was never a connection. I did it out of obligation.” “So.. does that make me an obligation then?”
“I want to be with you, Y/N. We share a connection whether you want to or not. So stop being stubborn for once and allow it to happen.” He snaps.
You met his gaze from across the counter and let out a long breath. “I think you should focus on your mission for tomorrow,” you said after a long pause.
He huffs and presses the palms of his hands against the counter. “Okay,” he said softly and left your house.
You waited for the door to close to lean your head against the wall. He wasn’t going to go away. So that means you have to.
Ari was immediately concerned when he was greeted by a for sale sign in your front yard when he pulled into your driveway.
He left the flower he bought you in the passenger seat and ran up the stairs. The front door was locked so he went around back to check if the sliding glass door was open.
He sighed in relief when the door smoothly slid open. Everything was moved out from the house and your scent has faded out, even in your bedroom.
He bowed his head when he realized that you were gone for nearly as long as he was on assignment.
Where the hell did you go?
He pulls out his phone and clicked on an unsaved number. On the third ring, someone answered.
“Well isn’t this a surprise. How’s it going, sunshine?” Lloyd greets. “Lloyd, I need you to do something to me,” “Name it,”
#alpha! ari levinson#black!reader#ari levinson x black!reader#ari levinson x reader#afrolatina!reader
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Arcane pet headcannons
VI
She has a bulldog and a ratty ass Chihuahua
Dumbass named the Chihuahua something dumb like "Sniffles"
Bulldog is probably "JJ"
You would think the bulldog was the guard dog
Ha, you're wrong
The Chihuahua when you get even a MILLIMETER close to Vi, its biting your fucking ankles
Better run because bitch is CHASING you down
It's like it downed a entire red bull, monster and starbucks venti latte with 19 shots of espresso in 0.1 seconds
Pray bitch
Cause you are not making it out alive
See ya in hell
The bulldog is just as scared of it too
Cowering behind Vi
Chihuahua made its territory known and not backing down
Probably dislikes and likes Cait all at once
Tiny mother fucker is bipolar as shit
Makes a weird face like its sniffing Vi's horrendous farts every 3 seconds
The bulldog is a sweetheart
Would never hurt anyone
Loves cuddling
Is the definition of lap dog because it doesn't leave Vi alone
Will fall asleep anywhere and at any time
Has fallen asleep on the Chihuahua multiple times
Probably stole Caitlyn's pomeranian
Loved it too much not too
Cait isn't getting it back
Walking through the lanes with the dogs who have sunglasses on all at once
Cool dog mom 10/10
EKKO
He has a snake
Probably a ball python
Takes amazing care of it
Most of the time is holding it
And by holding it I mean bitch is wrapping itself around his neck
Not enough to choke amazing Ekko out, don't worry
He good, he good
Loves scaring people with it though
Chases Scar around the hideout with it
"Wanna touch it? C'mon! He likes you~"
"Ekko, I will murder you-"
Scar loves it, can you tell?
One time was interrogating someone at the hideout for info on Silco's operation and out of nowhere the goon started SCREAMING
Bro was confused until he saw his snake slithering down the goons stomach all calm
Goon immediately wanted the snake off of him and gave all the info needed
So now Ekko, when interrogating someone, usually has his snake doing his little thang for a good luck charm
It brings the good tension and intimidation needed
A little dance every now and then
The snake loves the tree
Climbs it everyday
Snake loves him 100/10
The best snake owner known to man
The kids like watching his snake
How he distracts the annoying little shits
VIKTOR
He has a mouse
Probably liked them so much because in the lanes he saw a lot of them
Probably started an army
Little Viktor walking around the lanes with thousands of em swarming behind him
Probably all on drugs
When he left the lanes he probably found one in Piltover
Gave him some nostalgia so he took it
Gave it some food and restored it's health so the little mouse trusted him
Now when he's working on a little device the mouse is most likely on his shoulder
Sometimes just chilling, eating some food but sometimes wants to be involved
Viktor made him his own lab goggles
You've never lived until you've seen this man all focused and shit, his mouse on his shoulder as they both stare intently down at his gadget
1000/10 talks back to the mouse
*Squeak*
"I should do that, Mousecateir."
"Viktor...what the fuck-"
Jayce has walked in on his conversations with the mouse
Stood there for a good 20 seconds before high tailing it out of there
Booked a therapy appointment and definitely snitched to Mel
Viktor has lost it
Made a dam army suit for his mouse
They shall rule the world
SEVIKA
Has a hamster
But this ain't no normal hamster, no, no
This hamster is CLINGING to its last cells of life
Bro regenerates with every breath he takes
Sevika just won't let the little shit go
Even if she tried
Little man refuses to give up
Well past its expiration date
She doesn't even remember when she got it
That's how old the shit ball is
Thinks it dies at least 10 times a day
Freaks out every time but the hamster wakes up every damn time
Y'know how moms wake up when you barely poke them?
Like that.
Like it just got back from WAR and has PTSD
Eyes wide and shaking
Sevika honestly doesn't know what to do
Probably hasn't even drunk any water in well over a year
Or food
Living off the mere urge to live past its comrades in the walls
Jinx loves it though
Loves terrorizing it
Not on purpose
Probably is the reason all its hairs are graying
Probably loses its hair and is now bald
Looks like a shaved ball sack ngl
Man can't even walk no more
Sevika once turned to fast and this little mf went flying at the wall
AND STILL SURVIVED
Sevika found it two days later
"Oh my god, just give up already."
*aggressive squeaking*
"Okay, geez."
Probably will outlive Sevika and society
SILCO
Has a hairless cat
And a crusty white grandma dog
Dog is probably as old as him
Shaking with every step
Can't even walk properly now
The cat just sits there most of the time
Usually just staring at the ones in his office till they leave
Gets along with the dog surprisingly
Jinx probably got him the cat as a surprise
Told her to get rid of it
But as every prophecy foretold, he ended up loving the creature
Feeds it better than anyone
Of course other than Jinx
Loves his animals
The dog is crusty af though
Has been sitting with Jinx the past few years
Help it, please
Probably has had its hair dyed a few times
Scared of Jinx 100/100
Dog will never die
Cat sits on it's back
Took its dog bed
Dog took its cat bed
Love them both
The cat always sits in the rafters with Jinx
Brings her things she forgot
Steals her stuff too
Also sits on Silco's head
Has fallen onto his head from the rafters
Looks unbothered but was screaming inside
JINX
Has a bird
And a black cat
She took the bird, which is a crow, because she got tired of it squawking
So she just plucked it from the arcade after she saw it staring, wide beaked at her after she shot its mother
Has a pretty cage set up for it
Makes little outfits for it and her cat everyday and all day
It sits on her head all the time, like Silco's cat
She talks to the bird all the time, the bird talks back
She's argues with it everyday
Silco has become worried
Talks to it more than the voices
Bird does it on purpose because it knows she doesn't like the voices
Has sometimes pecked at her forehead but it's alright
Threatens to cook and eat it on a daily basis
Bird calls her bullshit
Has pulled on her braids a lot when mad at her
Then flies away when she tried to swat at it
A love hate relationship really
The black cat is because she once heard black cats bring back luck
And she's a jinx so she thought it was a match made in heaven
She found it in the back alley of the last drop
Immediately took it
Didn't care if it had an owner, hers now
She called dibs
Definitely has it on her lab when making bombs and gadgets
She loves it when the cat purrs, it's like a little engine
Names it Whisker, no argument
I will not be hearing anyone out
Names the bird chicken leg
Or barbeque
The bird doesn't like it but she don't care
Barbeque and Whisker hate each other
Has to keep them separate at all times
Or she puts them in time out
Which is usually just her faking them at each other as she makes them apologize
Loves her animals though
Even if they are little shits
#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane headers#arcane gif#arcane sevika#sevika fluff#sevika arcane#arcane viktor#viktor arcane headcanons#arcane jinx#jinx arcane#arcane ekko#ekko arcane#arcane silco#silco arcane
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Bourbon Street Parade
They drove down to New Orleans looking to buy some hex bags from an old connection, but they were out of luck. A little girl, no older than eight years old, appeared in front of the door wearing green fairy wings, in her hand a magic wand with curly plastic ribbons coming out the end of it. She ran the ribbons through her fingers and looped them around and made a motion as if snipping them and craned her neck back and said Old Al was dead forever. Dad rubbed his eyes with the flat of his palm, his mouth down-turned, his jaw clenched. She stretched her arm out and pointed her wand towards the river. She said you better look for some other guy but watch out for all the phonies.
Thanks, Dean said, and held out his family-size bag of tootsie rolls. She shook her head. He wagged his eyebrows and rattled the bag like, you sure? This is the good stuff. Two for five at the gas station this morning but he was already down to a third of a bag and this made him feel very generous. Again she shook her head. He made a show of unwrapping a candy and throwing it into his mouth. She gave him a disgusted look and took off.
O-kay, he said. He scraped the taffy coating his teeth with a fingernail, struggled some to get out what was stuck between them while he thought carefully about touching Dad’s elbow or offering some other comfort. He swallowed, fake-chocolate taste thick at the back of his throat, and looked at his dad and Dad sighed and slapped his shoulder and said let’s go and started walking down Conti, leaving the car behind, always knowing what to do, walking fast like he did in huge strides that you had to jog a little to keep up with him for five, six blocks, past blow-up ghosts in front of homes covered in mesh cobwebs and kids inside them screaming, the street narrowing in, the sidewalks getting busier. Out of nowhere Dad crossed the street and there was a beep and Dean waved his hand at the guy behind the wheel and there were startled angry apologetic looks exchanged and Dean turned again looking for his father and caught sight of his turning left on Bourbon and called out after him and rounded the corner, his hand on his dead phone heavy and useless in his pocket, his eyes trained on Dad’s shoulders, so far behind him now and between them fat Batman in gray suit and hard plastic cowl, Michael Jackson who couldn’t moonwalk, Dolly Parton with foam tits and cowboy hat, chick waddling in mermaid tail, sexy nurse, squad of stormtroopers, preacher raging into a microphone, Ghostface, Black guy in a shoulder-length brown wig and beige-colored bathrobe, three little kids drumming on upside-down buckets, vampire with plastic fangs and red running down her chin and down her neck and her sternum artfully between her boobs, innumerable sweaty costumeless midwestern couples drinking liquor in plastic cups, murder victim with axe sticking out his head, scarecrow, Neo in leather duster, sorority girls in heels, fun-loving gay dudes, Pennywise and closely-related generic clown, a second and third Ghostface, beer sweetness in the air and gumbo and a big manly hand on his ass squeezing and Eagles cover band singing the full moon is calling the fever is high and the — corner of St. Ann where Dad turned right and disappeared into one of the courtyards or up into the rare green aurora flashing over the Mississippi a hundred yards away with its sewage smell, leaving Dean forever with his candy and choices to make like does he go back where he came from or does he walk miles up and down Decatur for the ghosts to watch and laugh from their balconies or does he ask for a phone to please call my dad and even worse than that the humiliation of asking where are you where should I meet you why would you leave like that should I go back to the car?
But then he heard the shouting. A large-sounding, murderous-sounding man was cursing insanely. His voice echoed and spilled out into the street. Dean pushed in a narrow metal gate that led into a poorly-lit path that led into a creole courtyard just as Dad turned the corner on his way out and said found you and just as Dad turned the corner Dean made some embarrassing girlish sound and threw himself back against the wall, gasping wildly, his heart rabbiting, hopped up on high-fructose corn syrup, threatening to bust out through his ribs. Pressed his hand to his chest to keep it in place. Whatever misery Dad saw on his face made him grin wide and sharp. Across from Dean he leaned against the wall. Only three feet between them now. But Dad tugged on his jacket, pulled him closer. Dean tripped over his feet, into Dad's chest, held on to Dad's arms for balance. Dad said, Here you go, laughing. He held a cloth pouch in his hand, tried to fit it in Dean’s right pocket but found it full of candy wrappers. He tsked as they fell soundlessly to the ground and said, gonna make yourself sick bud, slow and deep and pitying, teasing, hot in that eye-prickling way. He pulled Dean’s jacket open and left the pouch and its mysteries inside the inner pocket then his hand on Dean’s chest.
I was right behind you, Dean said, belly swirling with taffy and four whole months since he’d last had Dad’s hands on him.
I know, dude.
I found you.
I know, Dad said, huge careful hands cradling Dean’s skull. He said hey come here, and his hot open mouth was on Dean’s skin and his beard scratching and his teeth and he tilted Dean’s face up finally and then there was nothing for it. Dean closed his eyes.
#my fic#john/dean#ughh is it fixed now#who knows#trying to get back to at least one story a month so whatever#happy halloween#all treats no tricks over here
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Macaque x reader Part 3
(Gender neutral reader)
Warnings? Non
He certainly didn’t feel the need to tie you up, but to simply have his tail wrapped around you nearly all times. If needed to do something, but needed you to stay, he would summon one of his shadows to do it instead. I mean, you did tell him you were only a delivery person, no martial arts training or anything.
From what you could tell he was getting ready to be underwater. You only knew that because he got you a diving suit… was he planning on dragging you everywhere? You honestly expected him to leave you in his little bunker with video games while he tried to kill your friends.
It’s not that you don’t care about him killing your friends, it’s just weird to bring your hostage everywhere you go. Did you even know how to swim? You took lessons when you were six but then your parents never took you near a body of water after that. Like do you even remember how? Shoot, are you gonna die?
He’s like immortal or something right? At least the great sage is, this guy might. Maybe he’s forgotten how fragile regular people are? That part stresses you out more that anything.
You kept to yourself in the corner for a while, he had some lego so you were playing with those. Fun fact, did you know the plural or lego is “lego,”kinda like deer and deer.
“Soooo.” You finally spoke up, after finishing you masterpiece. It kinda… looked like a duck, but art is subjective.
“Sooooo?” He replied, mimicking you.
“So like, are we swimming anytime soon? Cause like, it looks like you’re gathering stuff to do that.”
He turned his head to you and laughed. "Wonder what gave it away."
"Shawty, I know you're being sarcastic and whatever... But Like..."
He laughed at the nickname, he knew it wasn't anything serious but it made him oddly happy. You did seem to notice by his tail wagging.
He coughed, trying to regain his composure . He didn't fool you though.
" Your friends are heading to an ancient underwater city. I'm pretty sure mortals like you will drown. "
Why in all of us the west would he take you, his prisoner, along while he was on a murder mission? That seems like so much work. like the possibility of you escaping or getting rescued is extremely high, like dang, Is he stupid?
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just leave me here?” You questioned. Not like you wanted to remain a hostage but you’re too curious about this now.
He shrugged, “I can’t have you running away when I’m out. My shadows will disappear when I get too far away.” You weren’t sure if you believed him on that, but you didn’t think he had any reason to lie. FUCK!
MR.MONKEY MAN SIR SUSSY WUSSY EMO MONKEY MONKEY MAN.
“Anyway, I need to run and get dinner don’t go anywhere.” He let out a wide smile and hummed as he left. Well… you looked at his little shadow clone, they didn’t talk so they aren’t the best company. You start playing with lego because what else were you to do?
You were playing with catapult with this specific set and flung a bolder. “Shit.” You realized you had hit the mechanism a little too hard and the plastic bolder rolls across the room. The shadow monkey was sure to keep you in place, still, you tried to get reach over to get it.
Leaning closer and closer, adjusting your body some more, more and more leaning… you got it? Shouldn’t the-? You looked over to see the shadow monkey gone. “Macaque?” You let out, your voice echoed through the building. “Did he get out of range?”
What to do now that you weren’t confined to the corner?
………
SHIT THE DOOR!
You ran over to the slab of metal on the wall and to your surprise, opened it? “Silly monkey man.” You muttered to yourself.
But, the new problem was that you were in the middle of nowhere. IN THE MIDDLE OF OF THE OCEAN? Great, great.
You sigh in defeat and close the door to go back to your spot on the floor with Lego. But the scuba gear sitting on the table seemed awfully convenient now... Too Convenient
You have come to the conclusion that Macaque wasn't that smart...
You threw all of the gear on, doing several test to make sure everything was hooked up correctly. You slammed the door back open to look at the vast waters in front of you, It was honestly terrifying; not as terrifying as Lady Bone Demon though.
Doing a few breathing exercises beforehand, you finally plunge into the water. You looked around to see if you could find an area where the land rises, hoping to at least find an island. But no! You see the broken ship you were practically thrown off of!
Hi sorry It took me so long to get the next part out! Life has been crazy. I graduated trade school and moved within a two week time span. But I'll try to update as much as I can. Thank you for the support on the last two parts and thank you for being patient with me! <3
#lmk#macaque x reader#lego macaque#monkie kid macaque#six eared macaque#lego monkie kid#lego#lego monkie kid x reader
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PET HEADCANNONS
(Hey! These ideas came from @visukq on TikTok! Check them out! Anyways, here ya go, Enjoy!!)
VI
She has a bulldog and a ratty ass Chihuahua
Dumbass named the Chihuahua something dumb like "Sniffles"
Bulldog is probably "JJ"
You would think the bulldog was the like big one or the protective one
Ha, you're wrong
The Chihuahua when you get even a MILLIMETER close to Vi, its biting your fucking ankles
Better run because bitch is CHASING you down
It's like it downed a entire red bull, monster and starbucks venti latte with 19 shots of espresso in 0.1 seconds
Pray bitch
Cause you are not making it out alive
See ya in hell
The bulldog is just as scared of it too
Cowering behind Vi
Chihuahua made its territory known and not backing down
Probably dislikes and likes Cait all at once
Tiny mother fucker is bipolar as shit
Makes a weird face like its sniffing Vi's horrendous farts every 3 seconds
The bulldog is a sweetheart
Would never hurt anyone
Loves cuddling
Is the definition of lap dog because it doesn't leave Vi alone
Will fall asleep anywhere and at any time
Has fallen asleep on the Chihuahua multiple times
Probably stole Caitlyn's pomeranian
Loved it too much not too
Cait isn't getting it back
Walking through the lanes with the dogs who have sunglasses on all at once
Cool dog mom 10/10
EKKO
He has a snake
Probably a ball python
Takes amazing care of it
Most of the time is holding it
And by holding it I mean bitch is wrapping itself around his neck
Not enough to choke amazing Ekko out, don't worry
He good, he good
Loves scaring people with it though
Chases Scar around the hideout with it
"Wanna touch it? C'mon! He likes you~"
"Ekko, I will murder you-"
Scar loves it, can you tell?
One time was interrogating someone at the hideout for info on Silco's operation and out of nowhere the goon started SCREAMING
Bro was confused until he saw his snake slithering down the goons stomach all calm
Goon immediately wanted the snake off of him and gave all the info needed
So now Ekko, when interrogating someone, usually has his snake doing his little thang for a good luck charm
It brings the good tension and intimidation needed
A little dance every now and then
The snake loves the tree
Climbs it everyday
Snake loves him 100/10
The best snake owner known to man
The kids like watching his snake
How he distracts the annoying little shits
VIKTOR
He has a mouse
Probably liked them so much because in the lanes he saw a lot of them
Probably started an army
Little Viktor walking around the lanes with thousands of em swarming behind him
Probably all on drugs
When he left the lanes he probably found one in Piltover
Gave him some nostalgia so he took it
Gave it some food and restored it's health so the little mouse trusted him
Now when he's working on a little device the mouse is most likely on his shoulder
Sometimes just chilling, eating some food but sometimes wants to be involved
Viktor made him his own lab goggles
You've never lived until you've seen this man all focused and shit, his mouse on his shoulder as they both stare intently down at his gadget
1000/10 talks back to the mouse
*Squeak*
"I should do that, Mousecateir."
"Viktor...what the fuck-"
Jayce has walked in on his conversations with the mouse
Stood there for a good 20 seconds before high tailing it out of there
Booked a therapy appointment and definitely snitched to Mel
Viktor has lost it
Made a dam army suit for his mouse
They shall rule the world
SEVIKA
Has a hamster
But this ain't no normal hamster, no, no
This hamster is CLINGING to its last cells of life
Man regenerates with every breath he takes
Sevika just won't let the little shit go
Even if she tried
Little man refuses to give up
Well past its expiration date
She doesn't even remember when she got it
That's how old the shit ball is
Thinks it dies at least 10 times a day
Freaks out every time but the hamster wakes up every damn time
Y'know how moms wake up when you barely poke them?
Like that.
Like it just got back from WAR and has PTSD
Eyes wide and shaking
Sevika honestly doesn't know what to do
Probably hasn't even drunk any water in well over a year
Or food
Living off the mere urge to live past its comrades in the walls
Jinx loves it though
Loves terrorizing it
Not on purpose
Probably is the reason all its hairs are graying
Probably loses its hair and is now bald
Looks like a shaved ball sack ngl
Man can't even walk no more
Sevika once turned to fast and this little mf went flying at the wall
AND STILL SURVIVED
Sevika found it two days later
"Oh my god, just give up already."
*aggressive squeaking*
"Okay, geez."
Probably will outlive Sevika and society
SILCO
Has a hairless cat
And a crusty white grandma dog
Dog is probably as old as him
Shaking with every step
Can't even walk properly now
The cat just sits there most of the time
Usually just staring at the ones in his office till they leave
Gets along with the dog surprisingly
Jinx probably got him the cat as a surprise
Told her to get rid of it
But as every prophecy foretold, he ended up loving the creature
Feeds it better than anyone
Of course other than Jinx
Loves his animals
The dog is crusty af though
Has been sitting with Jinx the past few years
Help it, please
Probably has had its hair dyed a few times
Scared of Jinx 100/100
Dog will never die
Cat sits on it's back
Took its dog bed
Dog took its cat bed
Love them both
The cat always sits in the rafters with Jinx
Brings her things she forgot
Steals her stuff too
Also sits on Silco's head
Has fallen onto his head from the rafters
Looks unbothered but was screaming inside
JINX
Has a bird
And a black cat
She took the bird, which is a crow, because she got tired of it squawking
So she just plucked it from the arcade after she saw it staring, wide beaked at her after she shot its mother
Has a pretty cage set up for it
Makes little outfits for it and her cat everyday and all day
It sits on her head all the time, like Silco's cat
Has sometimes pecked at her forehead but it's alright
Threatens to cook and eat it on a daily basis
Bird calls her bullshit
Argues with the bird all the time, bird mainly argues back to distract her from the voices
Silco is concerned
Has pulled on her braids a lot when mad at her
Then flies away when she tried to swat at it
A love hate relationship really
The black cat is because she once heard black cats bring back luck
And she's a jinx so she thought it was a match made in heaven
She found it in the back alley of the last drop
Immediately took it
Didn't care if it had an owner, hers now
She called dibs
Definitely has it on her lap when making bombs and gadgets
She loves it when the cat purrs, it's like a little engine
Names it Whisker, no argument
I will not be hearing anyone out
Names the bird chickqen leg
Or barbeque
The bird doesn't like it but she don't care
Barbeque and Whisker hate each other
Has to keep them separate at all times
Or she puts them in time out
Which is usually just her faking them at each other as she makes them apologize
Loves her animals though
Even if they are little shits
#arcane#arcane ekko#arcane violet#ekko arcane#vi arcane#arcane jinx#jinx arcane#viktor arcane#arcane sevika#arcane headcanon#arcane silco#jayce arcane#arcane mel
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You're Awful, I Love You: Part 43
Enver Gortash/Trans Male Tiefling Durge
“Murder in the streets! Is the Flaming Fist failing its duty to protect the people!? Sources say yes! Read about it here! Hot off the presses!” The young dragonborn squeaked as she waved a newspaper in the air.
A tall tiefling with blue-grey skin and close cropped blond hair handed the girl some money, more than the paper was worth, and took a copy, reading it with a frown. His sister and another Tiefling with honey brown hair and striking green eyes stood beside, tending a little girl with dark blonde hair and small newly curving blue horns who was hopping up and down eagerly.
“Tibs, you know how The Baldur's Mouth is...Don't take it to heart.” His twin gave a small, sympathetic frown.
“Dear, you know they criticize us almost daily. Just focus on doing our duty...We will put a stop to these killings.” His wife assured him, picking up the little girl and holding her towards the off-duty fist.
“Still...is this my fault, that body near the school a few months back, should I have looked further into it...” The man, Tibs, Gauntlet Tiburon Thalassia when it was proper, thought out loud. “At the time I didn't even think of what it could mean....Jaina, are you sure you didn't see anything?”
His sister, Jaina Thalassia, bit her lip and lowered her head. She couldn't bring herself to recount her chance meeting with The Dread Executioner. There was something about him, far more ominous than an ordinary cultist. She told herself that fact made her concerned for her brother, not that she hesitated because he'd been friendly to her, almost charming.
As the family stood discussing the news, the little girl giggled happily and pointed. “Mama! Papa! Auntie! Beau'ful lady!” The toddler squealed with excitement, her tail wagging happily as she squirmed in her mother's arms and pointed to a stunning elven woman with dark hair and eyes, exquisitely dressed in a black and violet traveling suit, purchasing a paper.
Tomi smiled at the little girl as she took her copy of the gazette. “So you think I am beautiful?” She giggled and inclined her head. “Thank you, sweetling.” She turned to lock eyes with Jaina and her expression caused the young teacher to freeze like a cornered doe, her eyes took on an unsettling look and she raised a finger to her lips before turning and walking away.
“Beau'ful lady! Beau'ful lady!” Her niece's happy squeals and clapping brought Jaina back to reality and she shook off her discomfort, continuing her morning walk with her family.
Below the city streets, Sentry stood at his latest canvas. The opera scene hanging triumphantly over his favorite mirror, now depicting several running, screaming nobles and at least five more impaled upon the bloodied crystals of the grand chandelier, pieces of red stained glass scattered amongst entrails and viscera across the carpeted floor.
His current work was a bloodied hand clasped with one painted inky black. Himself and Gortash sprawled atop two closely placed, bloodstained altars. Gortash was flayed and bits of him chewed and eaten from the legs up to his neck, Sentry's mouth was stained in blood and gore, his belly swollen and the beginnings of small sharp claws beginning to tear through the flesh were poking up through the taught skin. The sky above was red with angry black clouds and lightning and all along the ground below the altars was strewn with signs of death.
He sighed happily as he looked at the picture before him, his hand moving down to rest on his stomach, now visibly round beneath the baggy, paint splattered shirt he wore. Leaving to collect materials was getting more and more difficult recently and he found himself sleeping a lot to conserve energy, curled up with Malta and the gnolls for far longer than he would have in the past.
Father's anger had gotten worse as well, adding to the fatigue. While the enchanted ink he was tattooed with and Malta's presence did weaken Father's hold just a bit, the anger had grown such that sometimes Sentry found himself losing consciousness from the pain in his head, engulfing his mind in blood red agony.
The dreams and memories were getting worse as well. Sentry half wondered if in his infinite pettiness, father was playing on his fear and pain from his days being trained as a breeder or the days when he had been to weak to push Jackal off of him and send him howling. But Sentry would never equate this with the sort of breeding father wanted. Sentry had chosen Enver as the father of his child. Sentry had eagerly milked his lover's seed from him and practically begged him to claim his womb. It was because Enver was not a Bhaalist, and moreover, was someone Sentry cared deeply for, maybe the person he'd cared most for in his entire life, his equal, his partner, that this was different. Father could not, no, father WOULD not, take that from him.
Far above the sewers where Sentry worked, Enver was feverishly building and writing. His desk strewn with gears and cogs, scraps of metal, papers as well. So many bloody papers. Patterns, schematics, letters... Standing across the back of the table, a series of miniature models of the design he was perfecting. At first blush, they would appear to the untrained eye to be simple toy soldiers, albeit ornate ones, but a trained artificer would recognize a prototype in miniature. They wielded swords or crossbows and wore beautifully designed armor decorated in gold filigree. A paper haphazardly tacked up behind them christened them 'The Steel Watch'.
Among the countless blueprints, a letter in infernal lay open, illustrations of a mechanical heart wreathed in fire circled a dozen times and copied in many variations across other scraps of paper. Nearby, drawings of a brain and hastily scribbled notes. It was coming together, slowly but surely.
Enver himself was showing signs of wear and tear after what seemed like endless nights awake and never leaving his workshop. Plates of half finished food were piled forgotten on a side table, empty bottles of liquor littered the floor. Dark circles, more prominent than usual, decorated his eyes, he'd grown out a ten-day's worth of stubble, and the cot in the corner lay undisturbed.
It did begin to occur to him finally, however, that he hadn't seen his dear Executioner in some time. He felt an irritating tug at his heart at that thought. It was not in Enver's nature to get close to someone. Affection caused nothing but pain and people were best used as a means to an end. But not Sentry. Sentry was uniquely broken in a similar vein to Enver himself. Sentry understood, only he could be considered a partner, a lover, an equal. When Enver pictured his iron fisted rule over first Baldur's Gate and then all of Faerun, he could never picture Sentry anywhere but at his side, standing tall and imposing as an equal. Sentry could not be subjugated, refused to be conquered. Enver respected that and it made him desire the tiefling even more.
With these thoughts racing through his mind, he pulled a blank piece of paper in front of him and began to write. The message heavily coded with the cipher only known between the two of them. He scrawled feverishly, asking his beloved Bhaalist to come to him, forcing his words to sound coy rather than pleading or desperate. Yet he was, he needed Sentry. Only his Dread Executioner could soothe him and give him the rest he grudgingly admitted he required.
As he signed the letter, he took a deep breath and noticed the sour scent of sweat and rotted food in the room. With a sigh, he staggered to his feet and made his way to the cluttered table of plates, collecting as many as he could and carrying them to a wall in the corner of the room. He pressed a hand to one of the bricks and a small pulley revealed itself. He placed the plates on the metal platform and gave the rope a few tugs, sending the plates down to the kitchen. It took him some time, but once all the plates and bottles had been discarded, he staggered to the stairs, slowly making his way back to the main house. If he planned to see Sentry, he didn't want his partner's first reaction to be chastising him about overworking himself.
#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#tiefling#oc#durge#dark urge#writing#fanfic#gortash x durge#durgetash#lord enver gortash#enver gortash
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I honestly had this concept rolling around in my head while I took a shower this morning. (This was actually a few days ago)
I suppose it's like a dream concept? A little angsty, a little funny but it's all in Bo's head. It's before he proposes to Percy)
Let's see how it turns out.
And idea struck Bo one evening that made his stomach turn: Percy was tying Bo down. That was the whole point of tying the knot wasn't it? But some part of his selfish heart spoke to him.
"Is she really that good enough to put a ring on? There are thousands of women to be waitin' for you to bed them and you pick the most Plain Jane of them all?"
He was sitting in a white void in his pajamas. Nothingness for miles except for a man in an all black suit. Himself.
His selfishness was an old friend. One he admittedly not seen in a while due to Percy.
"You really gonna tie yourself to her? After all these years of partying it up as a single man, bedding every woman you could possibly nab with our rugged good looks and you choose little miss secretary?"
Bo sighed, upset he had to go over this in his own head. "Yeah, of course I chose her. Where in the hell am I ever gonna get another woman like her?"
"You could always leave." Selfish hissed with a smile. "Leave her, Vincent and Lester. Live your life the way you want it. You don't have to be beholden to anyone but yourself. Besides, you've been lookin' out for number one all this time. What's stopped you this time?"
There was a clearing of the throat from the other side of the room. Another vision of Bo this time in a white suit. "His conscience."
"He don't have one."
"Not until Her, she didn't."
This Bo stood from his chair, tired and hair slightly frayed, helping Bo up from the floor. "I haven't had a voice for years until now, you've always been in control." He stared daggers into Selfish.
Bo stared at his conscience. "Percy gave you a voice…"
Conscience nodded with a smile. "The woman you love gives you more than her time, love and physical self. She gives you the tools to do right, minus the murder of course."
The three were in agreement.
"Why would you leave her? For some 15 minute fling in some seedy hotel with some other woman you'd never see again? And do what? Break Percy's heart and the hearts of the family who loves you?" Selfishness stalked over only to be chained up by a wave of the man in whites hand.
"You aren't a part of this conversation anymore. Bo, listen to me. You're gonna get preweddin jitters, all couples do. Do you love Percy?"
"More than anything. I saved her."
"Exactly and she repays you by loving you every day of your life. You know she could do better but here she stays, with you. Because she sees herself in you and vice versa. Ruinin' your life for a single selfish thought is not the way to go."
Bo was silent as White spoke again. "Everytime she looks at you, what do you see?"
"That she believes in me, that she loves me unconditionally. I just don't get it though. Why would she trust me? She watched me try to kill someone and she didn't turn tail and run. I still don't get it..."
"Because regardless of all that she loves you. You're protecting your family. She finds that to be a shared trait. You saved her by not runnin' her over and she repaid you...?"
"By savin' my life in turn."
"Exactly. Any other woman you know would've done what she did? Or turn you in?"
Bo nodded.
"well there you go! Bo, what you have on your hands, is a soulmate. Someone who's soul almost matches yours. The other half that makes the two a' you feel whole. She's not afraid to get upset with you, she's an equal. Wouldn't you rather have someone standin' beside you an' not behind you?"
Bo woke up the next morning feeling extra sure of himself. Whatever came next, he wanted Percy as his partner in crime.
Tags:@rottent33th @slaasherslut @soupbabe @bluecoolr-main @probably-a-plant-thing @damien-mlm @flowercrownedlady @6lostgirl6 @texaschainsawslvt @slasherscrybaby @shonkgobonk @kalid-raven @allthingsblood @angxlslasher
#bo sinclair#house of wax#house of wax 2005#slashers#percy jones oc#Bo x Percy#the angels of ambrose au
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Mission: Almost Impossible
Pairing: Rooster x Reader
TW: mentions of murder (self defense), violence
Send requests ❤️
masterlist
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You met Rooster while he was deployed overseas on a naval base. He had no idea what your job was and why you were there. Any time he asked, you gave an ambiguous answer and subtly changed the topic. Rooster quickly learned to not question your fluency in French and Arabic, he went with the assumption that you were a translator. Against your better wishes, he pushed past your carefully constructed walls and that stupid mustache captured your heart.
Being a CIA operations officer, you were ambiguous by nature. Many people on base that you met were always curious as to how Rooster got you to talk. The other officers on base didn’t interact much with each other, keeping a low profile. When you noticed him watching you, which was right away, your analytical side kicked in. You noted everything, quickly picking up his habits and ticks. He quickly fell head over heels for you, asking you out after a few days. Seeing no harm in it, you agreed, soon becoming official.
“Hey, want to grab dinner later?” Rooster approaches you, having finished his scheduled flight. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
“Busy, sorry Roos,” you smiles sadly. He could tell you were going to disappear for a couple days again. You had your own tells with him, ones you purposefully put out for him.
“It’s okay. I’m really starting to wonder why you are here though. You have high government clearance, but aren’t in the Navy. Are you James Bond or something?” He asks with a stupid smile.
“Bond?” You snort. If people know what it was you did, they would be disappointed. “Roos, James Bond is made up. There are no secret agents with a license to kill. Except you,” you tease, he laughs with you. You partially lied, if things get messy, you can hit a target with ease. It just isn’t option number one or a common choice.
“Hey, I haven’t used that license yet,” he defends himself. “When will you be back?”
“It depends,” You talk for a little longer before heading to mission briefing. You and other officers were going to do a covert mission. Your job was to handle the agent giving you information and tail the target. You didn’t handle the militant side of things, that is for the paramilitary officers that you work with. Your use to SAD is your language skills and your intelligence skills.
When ready to leave, you slip out with another officer who will trail you. Your meeting with the agent goes smoothly, you memorize the information and move onto locating your target. You stay for hours. Watching, tracking, and noting every single move. Then something goes wrong, a foot out of place maybe. You are suddenly face to face with your target, engaged in hand to hand combat. Fighting was never your strong suit. You held your own well enough, but when things started going downhill you had to go to your last resort. You are on the ground, leg fractured, bleeding from a cut you don’t know happened, and one wrong move from being dead. Pulling out your gun, you manage to shoot first as your target draws on you.
Your partner reaches you and helps you up from other members from the team. You quickly get back to base, in shock. You’ve never had to use lethal force before, you’ve always been able to get out in training and nothings ever gone sideways, until now. Rooster sees you get assisted into the med bay, his brows furrowed at your appearance.
After a few hours of treatment and questioning from your superiors, you are left alone in the room. Then Rooster walks in.
“Hey, what happened?”
“I killed a man,” you say, staring past Rooster at the wall. Your voice is monotone, scaring Rooster more than your obvious injuries. He got the general idea that your job was dangerous from how secretive you were, but he never fully grasped it. He sits beside you, holding your hand, silent. “He was about to kill me, I was down. I didn’t mean to, not really,” you stutter, tears forming in your eyes.
“Hey, hey. Look at me. You are okay, you are alive, that’s all that matters right now,” Rooster’s warm eyes gaze into your tearful ones. He didn’t really know what to say, he’s a pilot, not a therapist. After a few beats he gathers up the courage to ask his personal elephant in the room. “What were you doing out there?”
“My job, Roos. I’m a CIA Operations Officer. I help gather the intel so you know where to fly your planes. I’m damn good at it too, or I was,” you say, a little proud.
“Well shit, my baby is more badass than me,” he smiles, causing you to giggle a little. His smile fades as yours does, the distant look creeping back onto your face. “Baby, what can I do?”
“Sing for me?” you ask, moving over so he can wrap you in his arms. He quickly racks his internal music library and settles on You’ve Lost That Lovin Feelin. You release a consent sigh as his voice fills the room. A comfortable silence fills the air as he finishes the song, he can feel you relaxed in his arm instead of tense.
“Do you wanna talk to Hangman about it?” Rooster sets aside his pride to recommend the other star pilot on base, the only one with a confirmed kill. You had sat through rants, met said pilot, and find their rivalry childish - even if you do think Hangman is a little annoying. After mulling it over, you nod. Rooster presses a kiss to you head as you fall into a fitful sleep. When you wake up to Rooster trying to calm you down, you notice another person in the room.
“Shit, how long was I out,” you ask, brushing hair off of your face. Rooster left his spot on the hospital bed while you were sleeping and went back to the chair.
“I heard you joined the least popular exclusive club,” Hangman’s southern drawl is soft and comforting, a stark change from its usual annoying tone. Rooster slides out of the room as you grimace at the words.
“I murdered him,” you whisper as Hangman sits beside you. Rooster gave the briefest rundown, only telling Jake that you had killed someone in self defense.
“Like I said, not a popular group, even with the members. Listen to me. You were about to die, you did the only thing you could do to make it out alive. It’s shitty, no one wants to do it. I certainly wasn’t particularly inclined to shoot someone down but when someone is shooting at you, what can you do? Nothing anyone will say will help you move past it, you have to come to terms with it yourself. Go see a doctor, work through it. Sometimes self defense isn’t sunshine and rainbows,” Hangman lectures. But you needed the little bit of tough love.
“Thanks, Hangman. You’re right, I need to see a doctor. I just wish that bastard didn’t make me do it” you shake your head. He reaches out and rests a hand on your shoulder.
“Anytime, sunshine. Mind telling me what happened to cause this, like why the hell you got into that situation,” Hangman lets his curiosity get the best of him, his blue eyes sparkling a little.
“That’s classified, Lieutenant. You are not privy to that information,” you straighten a little, eyes narrowing on the pilot who surrenders.
“Alright Seresin, out,” Rooster returns as Hangman jots down his phone number and room location so you can get ahold of him if needed.
“You know, he’s really not that bad,” you comment after a few seconds, internally laughing at Bradley’s expression changing.
“Don’t say that. Not when referring to Hangman,” Rooster cringes, a tone of distaste in Hangman’s name. He crosses the room to once again take a seat by you. He watches as a doctor walks in to give you a timeframe regarding leaving the hospital and starting activities. He keeps the conversations flowing with the nurses who changed your bandages.
“I don’t remember getting this one,” you add to the conversation as a nurse rebandages your stomach. It’s clear that a knife slashed it, leaving what will be one hell of a scar, but you don’t remember when.
“Did you hit your head during the fight?” Rooster asks and you shrug. You couldn’t remember all of it, whether it be your brain repressing the memory, amnesia, or blacking out.
A few days later you were sitting around on base, physically not allowed to do anything, so you elected to hang with Rooster or Hangman when not in therapy or sleeping. You did some CIA casework that was able to be done from a desk. When your wounds healed, you started PT with a doctor on base, until you got the call.
“Hey, you wanted to talk?” Rooster, still in flight gear, leans on the doorframe to your bedroom. His curls are slicked back with sweat and he gives you one of those smiles that makes you melt.
“I’m going home. My mission changed, I’m not needed here anymore,” you rip the bandaid off. You knew it was coming, but you just got the official word. Rooster swallows, looking at a different corner of your room.
“I- uh, when?” he asks, his voice a little chocked.
“A couple days. Once I get final clearances to fly from my doctors, I’ll be out,” you also avoid his eyes. You hadn’t discussed this yet, you hadn’t thought long term.
“That’s so soon,” and it was. Before you knew it you were stateside, taking every spare minute you had to talk with Rooster. Calls were spotty due to your busy schedules and the time difference. Every day got a little easier. Hangman recommended an amazing therapist and you made sure to thank him. Rooster still doesn’t like your bond with him, but doesn’t say anything.
What surprised you though was the knock on your door. You were laying on the couch in your shitty pajamas from years ago, eating a party sized bag of chips and watching reality shows. Your tangled hair was lazily thrown in a messy bun, brushing it was a future you problem, but now you are regretting that choice. You brush the chip crumbs off of your chest and thighs, standing up and approaching the door.
“Bradley?” You ask and immediately slam the door shut. He can’t see you like this, this is like a year into dating level, not we-fooled-around-and-have-a-relationship-but-never-see-each-other level. You hear him laugh to himself and knock on the door. You slowly open it, popping your head out.
“Can I come in?” he asks with a smile.
“How do you know where I live?” you ask but he forces his way in as you step aside.
“This wasn’t quite the reaction I was hoping for. No welcome home kiss?” He pouts jokingly, you just look on skeptically.
“A little warning would’ve been nice. I could’ve looked decent and not like trash,” you say, brushing past him and returning to your tv. He is confused but sits beside you and tries to steal a chip. You swat his hand away.
“So, Secret Agent what are your plans,”
“Not a secret agent, would be cool though,”
“Your job is literally what a secret agent does,”
“Kinda, but no where in my job title does it say ‘secret agent’,”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he says and you sigh.
“Watching shitty reality tv while wearing old ratty pajamas,” you reply, missing him snatch your chips out of your hands, holding them away from you.
“Welcome home kiss in exchange for the chips,” he says and you give in. He tastes the saltiness of the chips on your lips.
“You are such a dork,” you laugh, cuddling into him. Your show is forgotten as you both catch up. Before you know it, the both of you are asleep on the couch, together again.
#top gun maverick#rooster#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#rooster top gun
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Ghoulish Nightfall - A Coolment Fic
TW: Death, Murder, A single mention of Meth, Violence, You get the picture lol
Dragging his blanket over himself, Coolment wasn’t sure what to do. He’d been having nightmares for a few days now and Sam hadn’t done anything to help. After James’s party, he’d been paranoid. Sam called him a wuss for it, which he was, but that didn’t help him out much.
Maybe it was just the guilt? However, after seeing those ghosts, actual ghosts, it’d all been worse. He could hardly sleep anymore, Sam didn’t notice. Probably because he was taking so much meth, where did he get it all from anyways? Walter only gave them so much.
Shaking his head, Coolment just tried to relax an- HOLY FUCK-
He fell down his bed, banging his head on the floor, at the sight of the ghost. Again. He groaned, sat up, and looked at it. It looked transparent, like you could alllllmost see through it, and it was pale. Pale with a tint of blue. And it was the clown. Coolment could tell immediately because of it’s cake-y face paint which did nothing to prevent his stubble from popping out of the big smiley face which was painted on. Oh, and because he was dressed like a clown. Duh.
The clown, what was it’s name again?, stepped closer with a glare aimed at Coolment. Oh, right. Bumpy, Bumpy the clown…. It was a sorta nice name, Coolment wish he knew the guy more. He seemed chill.
Bumpy stared into Coolment, like he was translucent. His eyes were dull, lifeless, dead. And it made Coolment’s spine shiver. The clown then stepped closer and Coolment jumped up, stepping back enough to gently hit Sam’s bed. He turned and Sam was peacefully sleeping, face buried in a pillow and limbs flailed out in a pose that looked like he fell to his death. Coolment almost laughed, tail gently swinging at the movement.
Then the clown coughed, sending himself in a coughing fit that was so rough it scared Coolment.
“You know,” He started, “I knew you were a fraud, an imposter.” He muttered, voice groggy. It was like he was drugged. Coolment felt his mouth dry and taste sour as he stepped to his right, ready to turn and bolt. Bumpy seemed to see it too, stepping closer to the catboy. “You betrayed so many people…” He said, soon lunging for Coolment. Coolment, in his infinite wisdom, fell back on his ass.
He groaned, looked up, and crawled his way up before making a sprint towards the stairs. He practically jumped down as he heard the clown slowly float his way. He reached the bottom, and made his way to the living room. He made sure to close the door and-
“Coolment?” Asked a near-silent voice. Coolment’s tail twitched at the sound as he then turned and looked at the Ghoul. Grumbis, his cat/pet man, was sitting behind the couch. His legs spread in front of him and his hands gently pressed in front of his crotch. His felt tail moved, something that hadn’t been possible before, and it swayed from side to side. He could hear the damp thing squelch against the floor, and the couch. He gagged a little.
Grumbis soon used his felt paws, still soaked in bath water, to crawl to Coolment. Coolment felt sick, seeing it slide due to the moistness of it’s suit. And what made it worse, other than the fact that the felt was so soggy that the mold seemed to thrive on it, was that he could see George’s head. It had soggy brown, almost black hair, with bright green eyes. Everything else was darkened by the shadow that night had tucked into the sky. It was staring, dull yet still thinking, right at Coolment. “Coolment, you were supposed to be a good owner. You weren’t supposed to be like him, like Mr. Abe Usive.” It whispered. He wanted to sob out, to tell the cat that he was not like him. He didn’t even want Grumbis anyways.
Coolment stepped to the side, hearing the clown now barrel itself into the door, and he booked it for his front door.
Opening it, he gladly breathed in the cool night air. It was quiet, ghostly, outside. But it was nice because it wasn’t the stuffy dorm room that he shared with Sam. He mentally cursed, how is Sam? Was he safe? Yes, he elected, of course he was safe. He was Sam, and the Clown had no ill will towards Sam. He had shown little to no hate against the taller!
Something moved, from the corner of his eye. It was Jame’s house, no one had put missing posters for him yet because he was ‘on vacation’. He sighed, stepping out onto the sidewalk. He hissed as he looked down and saw his bare feet connected to the pavement. He sighed, he probably should sleep with socks on or something. It’d be dreadful, but if he had to run he wouldn’t have to deal with… This.
He hummed, tail swishing in mild annoyance as he just decided to make his way towards the house. He swore that he heard a gentle pat pat pat from it. Maybe it was a cat? An actual cat? He wished he had a real cat, he couldn’t handle seeing Grumbis. Grumbis’s body was cold, and lifeless, and scary. He’d never forget seeing the fearful look on his tattered face (most likely from the shocking amount of mold he gained) that had been seemingly sculpted onto him. He shivered. Yea, he’d want a real cat. Because if he killed a real cat, he wouldn’t handle the guilt of seeing it’s body. Because it’d be smaller, dumber. It would mean less to the world.
He jolted when he realized that he was at the stairs to the basement, the creaky floorboards shaking him from his pondering as he stepped onto stone stairs. He shivered, looking around. The place had gained cobwebs, and all the birthday stuff was still here. He gulped when he saw the stand for the cupcakes, they looked rotten enough to be mistaken for mud.
He shook his head and traversed downward. When he reached the end, he gasped. James was there,hair clumped together with blood and torso warped to look like chunks of meat had been ripped out. It looked like someone’s bare hands had done it. James turned, his body sagging one way and then another. There was a pout stretched onto his lips. “Coooooolment.” He drawled out, “We were friends, Coolment.”
Coolment went up a step, wincing as James clambered towards him. He smelt like death and mold that had been soaking in the sun. Coolment decided to quickly run up the stairs, soon bolting out of the abandoned home. He panted, turning and seeing the cat and the clown, they were out of the closing door and slowly making their way to him. He whined when he saw that the clown looked worse than usual. His wounds, which beforehand just looked like a opening of blood, spouted out guts and Coolment saw the dark red liquid fall out of it in glops, landing on the floor, his clothes, the cat, and probably more. It was a sickening sight.
He heard a thump and turned to see James, his jaw almost torn off as his dark eyes, how they changed color Coolment will never know, scanned him. Coolment stepped back, into the cat. He didn’t recall them ever having secret speed. And he definitely didn’t recall the ghosts having the ability to touch him-!
He gasped, feeling the now physical ghoul wrap it’s sopping wet paws across his torso. He squirmed, tail swashing around in distaste of the texture. He then gasped as he saw the clown wrap it’s cold hands around his throat, no immediately tightening them. He gulped, looking at James. James pulled out a carving knife, and was straddling towards him. He felt panic shoot through his body as he yelled out and started to try to push them away. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t touch them. And he felt sick when James drew closer and the clown tightened it’s hands around his neck and the cat started to scratch it’s way into his body, searching for his heart. He- he screamed when James plunged the now bloody knife, what he now recognized as Sam’s problem solver, deep into his lower gut-
He woke up with a startle, it was still dark out but a check of his clock told him that the sun would rise soon. He felt his heart beat slow, where as it previously was so fast it could power a factory, it now held a normal and healthy pace. He got up, got changed, and decided that he wasn’t going to school today.
He’s not doing anything today. That was too much shit and he’s not looking Nova in the eyes for another month. He already had a hard time seeing her, but now it would be ten times worse because while he didn’t kill her, she’d still be a ghost of a person.
I love Coolment so much he's just a perfect character :3
#fiction#coolment#samgladiator yandere high school reboot#samgladiator yandere high school fanart#samgladiator yhs#samgladiator yandere high school#samgladiator#Grumbis#Bumpy the Clown#Ghosts#James YHS#fanfiction#samgladiator yandere high school fanfiction#Samgladiator YHS fic
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I am only posting enough about some Sonic AUs I've had in mind for context for an image I've come up with that I don't think I can just Not share:
This entire chain of AU ideas started when I was in my mid/late teens when I started reading Ghosts of the Future (that Future AU written by Ian Flynn Evan Stanley, don't know how I got that wrong ) and after catching up I ended up thinking up a Future AU of that set after GUN's been defeated. All that's relevant of what I called GofT Whirlwind is:
The 'main' character who I'll refer to as the originally planned last name Hunter is a descendant of Infinite and son of a famous Extreme Gear racer known as the 6th Black Baron, who originally was a member of GUN before a whole Plot happened and ended up on the other side and taking up the mantle of his dad's opposing racer the Red Rider. (He was a faded green wolf originally but now I'm thinking that Hunter and his dad should be Jackals. Also I could go into depth about his suit as the Red Rider and how it isn't necessarily red. Also I can't remember if the notion of Chaos Powers was introduced in GotF or if I just expanded/made it up from somewhere, but his ability was Chaos Sight which gave him...essentially Eagle Vision from AC? idk I was inspired by the tracking mechanic from Lego Lord of the Rings. There's also just too many OCs from this to talk about Just in this post so, like, ask I guess.)
The only other OC I will mention is sleeper agent murder android fox who very much does not like 4 of those 5 words and ends up defecting before Hunter. She's called Sabina, probably more of the protagonist than Hunter is at first.
Tails uploaded his mind immediately post death to become an AI. He gets a robot body after being stuck inside the Tornado up until (reads notes) Story Chapter 2 of...5? (the entire Plot I mentioned earlier? That's just Chapter number 1)
Also there's another noteable part of this AU which is that Infinite had a sister who survived/left, who had a son who ended up as a part of the batch of Rookies and the main one's best friend. Remember this later
Then I ended up making an AU of the Dark GotF AU (where Shadow died instead) with Hunter having things A Lot Worse. His family died in a resistance raid and he nearly burnt to death, only to be taken by the GUN higher ups and made into a living chimera weapon who could absorb Chaos powers through absorbing blood. His deal in this AU is that when he gets introduced he pretty much only likes Silver, and that he disguises his nature with a longcoat, gloves, orange tinted glasses and a lot of other things to hide the wings and tail...and pretty much everything but his head.
That's the past context: onto this year, where Adult Me is looking back and brainstorming/rethinking again, while I'm also looking at IDW comics - especially Surge. I looked at Surge and Kit, I looked at Dark GotF Hunter, and said "yeah this could be fun"
So onto the last AU of this, this time of IDW. A bad future ends up happening with Eggman Empire in control because Surge ended up killing Sonic, so Silver ended up going back in time to help Sonic. Hunter ended up going back in time as well to also stop Surge but meets them and goes "wow ok these guys need help." Sabrina also comes back in time but everyone thinks she's here to stop them from Preventing Sonic's death.
Long Story Short Surge ends up unable to kill Sonic, Sabrina finally gets to reveal that No she's here to stop Hunter because he gets all the Chaos Powers and ends up getting a vision that Maybe drives him insane/is him being possessed. I would have kept that as a surprise but Hunter going and releasing Infinite from the Phantom Ruby as his right hand man is important. But eventually everyone (except Sonic) wins and the future is changed again with only the timetravellers remembering the whole deal.
A later incident ends up with the planet from two different times (present and Silver's future) being in each other's sky. Another long story but basically Infinite joins Eggman and the future villain because he learnt from last time that he has surviving family, and basically Hunter redeems himself during this whole thing and takes Infinite to go see his sister (leading to him retiring). AI Tails also appears from the future world.
Then there's story set exclusively in the future, which I'm Not going to spoil since If I write it well it's going to have some really good twists, but I ended up thinking about in this future Surge and Kit being immortal due to whatever Starline did to them (Kit's also taller now) and them being part of Gun, and a bit where Shadow and Robo Tails meeting up with them (Tails is not allowed in Kit's stuff) ended up during the thinking process having Surge say something along the lines of "the hangout's not today".
So yeah, the image: Shadow, Surge, Kit, Robo AI Tails, Infinite, Metal and Mecha Sonic all sitting around at their usual immortals hangout session.
That's it, that's the entire reason I've released the knowledge of 3 of my Sonic AUs out into the wild. dropping this and seeing what happens overnight
#long post#sonic#sth#sonic au#sonic idw au#Surge and Kit only got brought into the future only story because Shadow ended up accidentally important enough that#< he needed a new trio due to the fact that Rogue probably isn't.#yes I forgot Omega. my bad#Surge is the Power of the three and Kit's the Tech/Flying. Also leans more into a spy speciality as part of GUN#yes I have another AU. that one's gonna need more stuff maybe before I consider sharing.#or not. who knows?
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Chapter 36: The Rabbit God's Tomb
Word Count: 818
TWs: Religious themes, murder and death mentions, blood mentions, descriptions of William being springlocked
⛤⛤⛤
William sprinted away from the kitchen doors and the animatronics gave chase… well, as much chase as they could. He hadn’t exactly built them with speed in mind, after all, but the Marionette was quick on his tail.
“This is what I get for fulfilling what every child simply believes until they grow up and get smart? Why, in fact, I've granted you what every good child deserves! And you hate me for it!” He shouted over his shoulder.
“Condemnation to cold, lonely wandering? A constant sense that something is wrong, even when you're happy?” Charlie taunted. “You dropped them like hot plates at the first sign of trouble.”
“But I made it a happy affair, graduating to this new plane of existence! I saved them from the pains of growing old, their own bodies failing them. All of them, except for you, Charlotte…” He skidded to a brief halt at a turn, bracing his hand against the wall as he glared back at the animatronics advancing on him. “You're the flaw in what could've been eternal happiness.”
“Give me a break…”
“You're delusional, old man!” Flora-Jean piped up.
“An unsung genius is what I believe you meant!” William grunted and continued running, soon becoming short of breath. At the end of the hall, he spied SpringBonnie. Salvation. He pushed forward as he heard the horrible cloth-dragging and metal squeaks that came with the approaching monsters behind him. He startled, throwing his arms over his head when a door violently blew open.
Papa
William choked in fear and surprise, coughing violently as he tried to side-step the backroom, not daring to look at the rotting bear inside. “You have no qualms with me, Evan!” He hated how his voice became pitchy with genuine panic. “I didn't kill you!”
I've made peace with Michael, papa.
I’ve heard you're a bad man, papa.
“No! There's simply been a miscommunication! Trust me! Tell these children what a good father I was to you!”
“But you weren't, were you?” Charlie criticized. “Even to your favourite, you were only ever a failure.”
The animatronics came to a halt as William neared SpringBonnie. His chest heaved as he stared wildly back at them. The room buzzed with adrenaline, and with that energy the spirits manifested their once-human forms, hovering outside of the suits they were bound to.
“Mother of God!” William swore before haphazardly putting on his old friend, his true face. The children sounded like angry hornets as they surrounded him.
“You can't run anymore.”
“But you can't lay a finger on me in here,” his breathing began to return to normal, enveloped by the comforting and deadly embrace of his creation. “So, what's it going to be?”
He then sharply gasped, feeling as if his head had split in half. The children had begun flying in circles around him, their translucent and fuzzy appearances flashing before his eyes as they chanted, berating William for his crimes and lamenting their lives before. He tried to cover his ears through the suit, but it was as if they were inside his very mind.
“Shut up shut up shut up! Terrible, horrible little beasts! I should’ve been more thorough in my research of how the dead's memory works! You should be obedient to me!”
In an instant, everything went still. As if someone flicked on a light and the roaches had all scattered. William's head was still throbbing as he blinked, trying to reorient himself. Then a vision of Charlie's bloody, screaming face appeared to him, shrieking and causing him to stumble into the wall. The springlocks went off in a flash, pulling him to the ground with the sheer amount of agony he was experiencing. He screamed and writhed as he and the metal skeleton forcibly became one, slowly tearing him apart. The children stood over him, watching him with eager eyes.
“You fools…” He coughed and spat, blood bubbling in the mouth of the suit, discoloured with age. “I’ve survived this before… I’ve lived through so much worse… and the truth of the matter is…” He gasped, forcing out his bitter last words with his final breath, “I always come back.”
The suit continued to twitch as, for the moment, William’s soul passed out into the ether. His blood pooled beneath it, staining the shiny linoleum floor. Each slain child felt indescribably light, like the party balloons they once coveted, beaming with success.
“Vengeance is mine, I shall repay,” Charlie spoke quietly over William's corpse. And though it was satisfying to see him lying so still, so damningly dead, somehow, she knew this wasn’t over. She held her tongue, for the sake of the others’ celebration.
“All of this vengeance has frankly exhausted me,” Flora-Jean cut through the silence that followed Charlie’s quip.
“Then let us rest. We deserve it. By sunrise, perhaps we will finally be unshackled from this place.”
Perhaps, perhaps.
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❝ MORTAL TALES ❞ ( O1 )
summary and word count: a certain fae can’t help but find amusement in the youngest elfhame’s prince‘s frustration. wc — 1493
pairings: the cruel prince!cardan greenbriar x fem!reader
contents and warnings: jealousy, hinting of threesome, mentions of knife (nothing extreme), suggestive content, mutual pining-ish, fluffy?
a/n: i used tcp cardan because i couldn’t see any context of y/n being used in a fic in the other books (i also need it for the next part </3). i tried my best to include the tail bit since it didn‘t come out right, ill add it in either part 2/3. cardan is a bit ooc (i made him a bit idk how to put it besides: sub?man whore. because i believe that’s what he is 😁). and y/n resembles jude just a little bit with the blade thing, but only a little because jude is neither very flirty or open up about her sexuality (more so in the first book) and that’s what i made y/n like.
also, since this was more in y/n’s perspective, next part will be more so cardans <3
Y/N's legs crossed as she leaned her head on locke's shoulder, while Poppy, a half-faerie: who Locke has shown great interest in— for all the wrong reasons — sat before them and told them of the mortal tales her father would recite to her every night or the ones she gathered on her own from her adventures back where the humans lived.
Y/N found them odd: how they all were almost nothing compared to the people here; they were fragile, but she found similar enjoyment in them all nonetheless — and perhaps she had the eldest duarte to blame for her obsession with all things mortal, and Poppy's tales weren't helping either — which has unfortunately gained her the harsh scowls from the youngest prince of Elfhame.
Though that was no surprise. The boy had never been kind enough for her to realise that his treatment towards her was almost cruel — not that it had mattered, because to Y/N it was a show; she knew where his feelings lay, and it was nothing but amusing. To everyone with eye sight as clear as day, he'd never liked her, but when in class, when he believes her to be ignorant of his stare or his wagging tail; she has a classmate whisper every move his body makes, and it fuelled her heart all too much.
"It's not quite normal there, unlike here, if anyone decided to walk around with it they'd get humiliated till they're six feet under," Poppy snorted, covering her mouth with the back of her palms.
Locke turned to stare behind him, catching sight of the prince and Nicasia — both pouting miserably (one much too obvious than the other), and at that, he smiled. "Oh you’re right, tails are quite odd aren’t they? More so on a prince,"
Y/N shrugged at that, "It's alright, I do think Cardan makes it quite, charming? He’s always wagging it around like some...was it a cat you called it?"
"Yes a cat," Poppy shook her head positively, "though don't say that out loud, I doubt he's as clueless on mortal knowledge as we think he is."
Locke hummed, a smirk growing on his lips as he kept his eyes trained on his friend, Y/N following suite of his gaze and sultry grinning at the boy from afar, ignoring Nicasia — causing his eyes to widen momentarily, before the scowl found home on his face once more.
"He's never quite liked you has he?" His words were soft against her ear, his lips landing gently beneath her ear-lobes, kissing it tenderly as he kept his eyes trained on his flaring friend — who if one squinted, could perhaps see smoke escape his ears, if they ignored the immense swinging of his tail.
Y/N smiled, a small amount of malice lacing her intentions, "hatred I'd say, though he doesn't think I'm that foolish does he?"
Poppy, who now stared at her feet, hands tugging the grass with a blush coating her tanned features, "he's looked like he wanted to murder Locke."
Y/N snickered, a sickeningly sweet one at that, as she lowly muttered, "it’s all working then, sweetness."
Later on, when Y/N was left with no one to keep her company — as Locke found himself adorning Poppy and Nicasia's presence, alone — she took notice of the emptiness of Locke's home. It was beautiful, nothing as extravagant as Hollow Hall, yet she found herself admiring the interior all the same.
And as her hands traced the designs etched on the walls, as if it were a reminiscence of her first time staring upon them, a deep, and rather annoyed cough fleed her from her thoughts.
she stayed in position, her back facing Cardan and only gripping the knife resting on her waist, "now what would the prince need at a time like this? Should he not be in his humble abode by now?"
"Should you not be with your lover boy? Or is it that you enjoy using people like he does?" His tone was hostile as he spat his words, however the light softness that rippled around it was evident and Y/N couldn't help her lips tugging upwards.
She turned around, staring at him — where he leaned cooly against one of the walls — with squinted eyes, faux contempt present in her stare, and he shifted in his spot at her gaze.
She swiftly walked, her steps careful as to not trip on her dress. And when she reached him, she, boldly, placed her hands on his chest, dragging it downwards firmly — and his thumping heart beneath his rib cage could be faintly heard from the short proximity between them.
Y/N titled her head when he clenched his fists, but found a smile etching on her lips when his eyes were lightly fluttering. "Do I really threaten you that much that your hatred towards me is the only thing that keeps you going? It's pathetic truly, especially for a prince."
Cardan gulped, mind hazy at the contact and his body was supported by his tail, that was wrapped roughly around one of his legs. He could not utter the next words without stroking her ego, and it was then he'd wished — though he'd never admit out loud — that he were mortal, because he needed to lie if not keep his mouth shut.
More so with her trapping him, her knees coming forward and slightly spreading his legs, so that the entirety of his body leaned upon the wall. And despite him towering over her due to one of her legs bending in-front of the other, he could not move, catching sight of the shiny blade securely placed on her hips and her rigid grasp on them.
She had been around a certain mortal for too long, he thought, and at that his sneer was present again.
Y/N gently bit her tongue to stifle the giggle from escaping her, "what, cat's got your tongue?"
His lips were tightly sealed, and though he already knew the effects she displayed were affecting him, greatly, he refused to acknowledge her — especially that any movement could cause his legs to move slightly forward and brush . . .
She shook her head with a light hearted laugh that had his heart beating just a little bit faster, just a little bit. Her hands releasing the grip she had on her blade, before placing it on his cheek and patting him smoothly.
"You're quite humorous you know, would be a shame if you wasted all that energy on 'hating' me when it could be used for something else, you decide, my prince." she said, her tone sensual and low, before gradually stepping away allowing room (only a small amount at that) for the boy before her to breathe, she let one of her fingers crawl delicately on his hollow cheek bones, that though looked sharp, were as soft as anything could be.
Cardan's eyes widened ever so slightly, now registering her words, "are you flirting with me?" He asked. The space between them now slightly obvious, and he hated it — almost as much as he pretends to loathe her.
Y/N raised her brows, crossing her arms in an unlikely childish manner before nodding, "you're quite oblivious you know? Yes."
"Well," the confirmation enabled a smirk to appear on his face, only to be dismissed by her voice, again.
"Well? Is that all? Because I have things to do, and if my offer does not interest you then I'll gladly leave and find another willing volunteer," she purred, ignoring the way his brows harshly and quickly furrowed, creating a crease, "how about Locke? We are reasonably close, and he does not have a tail — which looks a bit foolish, don't you think?"
He was blushing crimson now, red sparklings littering his pale cheeks, but then his lips curled up — however, he does not look as frighting as he's expecting to be, he knew that, especially with her knees still resting between his thighs (which is all he's trying to drift his mind from at the moment).
"I don't see anything off with it, I've been told it makes one interesting. You've spent too much time with mortals and those alike." Cardan's jaw clenched and his chest was rising a lot more than it was a few minutes before.
Y/N pursed her lips, "Well then, show me how interesting one can get." She leaned forward, her breath fanning atop his lips and he found his own hitching.
His eyes were wandering from her eyes, which he secretly adored, to her lips, and he subconsciously nodded, leaning forward.
Only then, her hands rested on his chest, pushing him away slightly and his head came in contact with the wall yet again, and he had to bite his bottom lips in hopes that she had no idea how much he’d needed her, all of her.
Y/N stepped backwards, finally standing straight. Her hands on her side once more and she gave the prince an alluring smile, "I'll see you later, cardan."
He glared at the spot she had been standing in once she’d left, and he knew that it was a silly game she’s playing.
And what is a game if it involves one player?
#the cruel prince#cardan greenbriar#the folk of the air#the wicked king#the queen of nothing#nicasia#jude duarte#vivienne duarte#taryn duarte#cardan greenbriar x reader#holly black#prince cardan#jude x cardan#reader insert#Locke
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Angst prompts 12 - Tom 💛
Choices
Pairing: Tom Holland x reader
Warnings: language, angst, not necessarily a happy ending but maybe a part 2 in the works, perhaps?
angst prompt from @your-fluffy-murder-writer
Tom hated the way he couldn’t lay down and feel comfort in what he was sure was the most comfortable bed in the entire city. The hotel room was seemingly too large anymore, knowing there was one less body occupying the room.
He swung his legs over the left side of the bed, his feet hitting the cool carpet. He glanced at the clock. It was only 11:02pm, but everyone else had already fallen asleep in the suite. He tiptoed into the small kitchenette, grabbing a beer out of the fridge, thankfully stocked by Harrison earlier that evening. He took himself out to the balcony, sitting back on the cold metal chair that decorated the outlook.
Tom sighs as he pressed the bottle to his lips, sweat from the bottle falling onto his chest. He’s quick to rub them away before setting the bottle on the tiny garden table in between the two chairs. His fingers fumble with the other side of the chair as he stares at it, as if the one face he wants to see will appear. But he knows it won’t.
His mind takes in the still bustling city below him. He knows if you were here, you’d be whispering softly stories you’d made up about each person that walks around on the street. “They definitely are on their first date.” You’d say at the awkward hand holding couple crosses the street. “She looks like she’d drive a Benz. I’d like to drive a Benz.” Tom found himself letting out a laugh through his nostrils, immediately feeling tears sting the back of his eyes. If only you were here to make those comments.
Tom wondered what you were doing right now. It took everything in him not to call you, for the first time sober. There was no doubt drunken calls had surfaced on the nights he’d gotten absolutely hammered. Harry would try to stop him, but Tom never listened. He’d shove his brother away from him, closing the door and locking himself in there. He wasn’t proud of it. It didn’t exactly help his pride that you never once called back.
“You’ll always choose it over me.” You cried. “Every. Single. Time. You’ll choose anything it all over me.” This wasn’t the first time this had been a fight. Tom groaned, pushing his hand through his brown hair. “It’s my fucking job.” “When will you realize that I know that? But you’ve changed. I haven’t even gotten a text from you in over two weeks. I’m not going to be in a relationship with a radio silent telephone. I deserve more.”
And that’s when you left. You had enough and you finallt chose your feelings over your own. You were supportive of Tom and his endeavors, everything about his job, you supported. It wasn’t until the partying and clubbing commenced more than usual, earning you not even a check in text. You felt selfish for getting upset but you also recognize that what the two of you had going on wasn’t healthy either. If he wanted it to work, he would make it work, you told yourself.
Tom was awoken by clanking in the kitchenette. The place would be home to him for the next two weeks, so there was no question that Harry had ran out to get groceries for the three of you. Tom rolled out of bed, not before grabbing his phone. Did he ever call you last night? He checked. Nope. Thank God.
Tom made the decision then to try to get over you. No response to any of his calls or messages was a response to him. With a shaky sigh, his feet carry him to the kitchen, only to hear the tail-end of a conversation. “I miss when y/n would make us those cheesy eggs in the morning.” Harry said, cracking an egg over the pan. “She’d always put the right amount of cheese.”
With a groan, Tom looks to his brother and best friend. “Don't ever say her name again.” Tom pleads, sitting down at the stool. Tom knew his whim of a decision to forget you would be more difficult than not. Harry and Harrison share a look that goes unnoticed by Tom. “Sorry mate.” Harrison responds, giving Harry one more look.
The rest of breakfast goes as normal as it usually could. Tom craved more than his breakfast though, and the craving was almost overbearing to the real food in front of him. He looked over at the stool next to him, where you would be if you were still with him. He imagined what this morning would look like - the type of morning you’d shared several times before. Your knees pressed into his thigh, feet perched on his own stool instead of yours to get closer. Your body would be turned towards his as you scraped your food off your plate, laughing among the people he loved so much.
One thing Tom struggled the most with, was when you decided to leave, you left the family too. Tom wasn’t sure if you still communicated with him, but there was no doubt some hurt when Tom had announced your break-up. You’d become so close to all of them, that you sitting here next to him in the morning eating breakfast would have been domestic. Your laughter would have lightened the thickened air between all of you. You’d crack a joke or two, pushing Harry’s buttons like you always did.
The first time Tom ever saw Harry genuinely get upset at him was when he told him. Harry took it the hardest - he had grown close to you. Of course, Tom had other girlfriends in the past that Harry had met, but he had never gotten so protective over someone like he had you. He was sure you were it for Tom. So when Tom announced it at a family dinner when his mom was poking about your whereabouts, Harry’s chair screeched loudly, a napkin was thrown on his plate, and out the back door he was to the garden.
“You really fucked up, didn’t you?” Harry hadn’t even turned around to notice Tom’s presence. He knew already. “Why do you assume it was me?” “It’s not an assumption, Tom.” Harry is quick to turn on his feet to meet his older brother. “You pushed and pushed her away. We warned you. She begged for you to give her a sliver of that reassurance you gave her in the beginning but you couldn’t get it through that thick skull of yours.” Harry’s words cut like a knife but Tom knew he was right. “I’m sorry.” Tom whispered. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Harry pushed by his brother, inside to help clean up before he was gone to their own home.
Harry apologized soon after but didn’t fail to mention that he was still pretty upset. To Tom’s knowledge, no one had spoken to you. But that wasn’t true. Harry was the first to reach out, someone you confided in. He was like your little brother after all, you’d spent a few years by their sides. Then everyone found it in them to call or message you. You had ran into Nikki at the grocery store. She spotted you down the aisle looking at pasta. You turned to see that familiar face, that familiar smile. “Y/n.” She said, before you opened her arms and allowed her embrace. She didn’t fail to express how much she missed you, which only made getting over Tom harder.
Leaving Tom was one of the hardest things you’d ever done. When you made the decision, it wasn’t quick. You lingered for months. You thought there would be a change that would snap you back into the relationship you held so dear to your heart.
The phone calls were fairly continuous for a while, a drunken Tom confessing he was wrong. You’d squeeze your eyes shut listening to the messages, telling yourself not to cry. Your finger hovered over his contact several times. But there was one thing you knew - you couldn’t say hello to him and risk another goodbye.
——————
Tom was onset for his newest movie - one about a girl and a boy finding theirselves back to each other after a rough breakup. It was a rom-com, something Tom had always been up for, but it felt different not having you by his side during filming. Though he’d had a rather great break, he spent the majority of it sulking and attempting to prepare.
Tom saw several familiar faces walking onto set, familiar with the director as someone he’d worked with times before. “Where’s the lady?” He asked, shaking Tom’s hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry’s face drop into a frown, attempting to insinuate that it wasn’t a good subject for now. “Uh, we ended things.” “Oh man, I’m sorry to here that.” The director gave a sympathetic smile before calling for the objective of the scenes today.
Tom felt jittery as it was determined that they would be working on the break-up scene. He stood in front of his co-star, preparing body language to show they were angry. His co-star looks to him, feeding her selves thoughts to bring tears to her eyes.
“You never cared, did you?” She spits. “You know I did.” Tom remembers how small he’s supposed to feel in this moment before the anguish begins. “You are better off without me. Just say it.” “I can’t.” “Why can’t you?” The woman is hiccuping through tears. “Because… I love you.” “You’re pathetic. You’re a liar. You’re lying to me.”
Tom recalls his actions are to become angrier with each degrading comment. But in that moment - he’s sparked. “You really think I don’t love you?” “How could I when you treat me like this?” Tom feels the tears rushing to his eyes, face turning red. “I would do anything for you.” “Then do it! Stop treating me like this!”
This felt all too familiar. A fight way too familiar. The actress is doubled over in tears, and Tom’s character is to feel urged to hold her and apologize. He does, tears streaming down his own face. If only he’d handle your arguments differently. If only his fuse didn’t get the best of him.
“God, I’m so sorry.” Tom mumbles, holding the actress close. He becomes aware of how it’s not you he’s holding. He becomes aware of how this could have been different if he would just listen. The scene continues with mumbles I love yous and a tired girl packing up her clothes.
Tom watches in the corner, real tears falling down his face as he remembers watching you sling things into bags. You had slammed pictures down on the way out. And he knew it was goodbye.
“And… cut! Absolutely beautiful acting, you two! Don’t think we could’ve had you do that better.” The director gushed. Tom was still fed with a lump in his throat. The director reports they can take five, bringing Harrison and Harry walk to the curly-haired boy. “You okay?” Harry asks, squeezing his shoulder.
Tom hesitates, eyes staring forward. “No.” He lets out. “I fucked up. I should’ve handed it all better. Why did I hurt her?” Tom knew people were probably wondering why he was unable to snap back to reality. But that was thing - that conversation had been a reality and it cut too deep.
“I’m in love with her. I am. I know she won’t give me the time of day anymore. But God, I’d do anything for a second chance.” This was the first time Tom had let himself really feel his heartbreak, and he knew it wasn’t the time. So like the great actor he is, he snapped out of his trance and prepared to listen for directions as they called for everyone back.
Tom made his way to the crew, Harrison following close behind. “Keep an eye on him. I’ve gotta call to make.”
Harry walks out into the warm summer sun. He’s quick to pull his phone out and go to the number he needs. With a couple of taps, the phone is ringing. The ring is broken by a simple hello. “Y/n? Hey! Got a minute to talk?”
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Heart on fire Pt.2
You’re Finn’s half sister and after Lexa kills him you make it your goal to return the favor.
enemies-to-lovers | word count 4.7k | series
MASTERLIST | SERIES PLAYLIST | PT.1
You needed to get away from it all. From her and her overpowering stench of lavender and cedarwood.
You were stomping through the woods in a flurry of anger, oblivious to everything around you. In your fit of rage, you forgot about three basic things.
1. Most grounders wanted you dead
2. you didn’t know an inch of these woods
3. Most grounders wanted you dead.
The cool spring air nipped at your nose and you allowed yourself to stop and take a few deep breaths. A patch of wildflowers sat nearby and as you watched them slowly sway in the breeze the rage faded. The trees cast shadows on the ground that moved with every gust of wind.
You rubbed your hands quickly over your arms in an attempt to warm them up a bit. It was only then that you realized you had lost sight of the camp.
The piercing glare you felt on the back of your neck only made things worse as you turned around to spot an unfamiliar grounder. He was a good measure away from you but you could still see the scowl on his face as he watched you.
You moved away quickly, if you separated yourself from the situation you stood the chance that he would decide to leave you alone.
“Not so brave now sky girl are you?”
Fuck it, your plans never worked anyways.
The man looked at least half a foot taller than you, not to mention his obvious warrior appearance and the countless weapons you could see on him. And those were just the visible ones. Attacking him would piss him off even more, and then you’d be dead for sure.
Box breathing. It was a trick Finn had taught you on the arc, to keep your rational mind in control. You were just now remembering it, his pursed lips as he exhaled and guided you through it accompanying the memory.
Breath in 1...2...3...4, unclench fist.
Breath out 1...2...3...4, clench fist.
You saw him inching along with you from your peripheral vision. His eyes were trained directly on you and the snarl seemed somehow more menacing than before.
Telling him to fuck off was probably not the smartest idea but you didn’t have any better ones. It came from your mouth before you could stop it.
“Oh fuck off”
You whipped around to look at him but he was gone.
You froze, holding your breath to try and hear any movements while carefully assessing your defense options. Your pocketknife was taken by the grounders when they patted you down so you were left weaponless. You spun around as a whistle passed your ear. An arrow embedding itself firmly into the tree next to you. Your ear stung as you reach up to touch the now pooling blood.
“What the fuck.”
The sound of him drawing his bow back made you whip around in time to see him aim the next one.
You crouched and took off in a low run, not pausing to see where the arrow had landed.
Your lungs burned as you sucked cold air in, cardio was never your strong suit. The throbbing in your side grew worse with every breath you took until you were forced to slow down and gasp uncontrollably.
The rustling of leaves in front of you caused you to freeze. If it was another murdering grounder you’d be dead, one was on your tail and with another in this direction, you'd be dead before the sun fell.
You let out the breath you'd been holding in as a familiar blonde stumbled over the hill. Byrne's face shockingly felt like a relief. Even if you hated her, at least she had a gun.
“Oh my god.”
Your relief was short-lived when she sunk to her knees in front of you. Where her right arm should have been sat a bloody stump. Pieces of shredded skin hung off as blood dripped like a fountain to the ground below.
“Save yourself.”
Her body gave out and she toppled down the hill landing a few feet in front of you. Her handgun fell from her hand, it hit your toe and laid there as you stared at it in horror.
You could feel the bile rising in your throat as you stared at the stump. There was no time for that. You grabbed the gun, taking off in a sprint to where you hope safety lay. You didn’t want to think about what you could be running from.
* * * * * * * *
You felt one the wounds on your stomach open up as your body slammed into the ground. The bulky grounder from before was on top of you, his hands clasped firmly around your neck
The direction you picked had been the wrong one. You ran right into the grounder as he knocked you onto your back. He wasted no time pouncing on you.
The gun had fallen just out of your reach. You clawed at his hands, his skin like leather under your nails. Suffocating was a lot different than you expected it to be. Your head felt like it was about to pop as your throat strained to bring in air.
“Your brother killed mine. So I kill you.”
He lifted his knife high in the air, you saw the sunlight catch the blade and tried to think of anything other than the blade sinking into your flesh. Finn’s face flashed in your mind but Lexa’s quickly replaced it. You tried to push out her memory and chose to revert to images of your brutal and gory death.
This is it.
You closed your eyes as he let out a scream. It was not one of vengeance however but rather of pain.
You allowed yourself to peer through your squinting eyes as you took in the knife embedded in his wrist.
Your knife.
Or at least your old one.
You wasted no time in pushing his body off of yours and grabbing the gun that had flown from your hand.
You pointed it at him. Your hands quivering as Lexa’s familiar figure appeared next to you.
You stood like that until the black dots fully faded from your vision. Your hand and breath were shaky and the blood loss wasn’t helping. When they kept trembling even after you tried to stop it you lowered them, your grip on the gun loosening as well.
“Did you follow me here?”
The man with Lexa aimed his blade at the grounder and she spoke to him in a foreign language. It was a simple phrase but you hadn’t talked with any grounders to know more than a few words. ‘Her’ was the only word you could pick out.
“Lexa.” She continued to ignore you, stalking past you and towards the man.
He let out a scream of agony as she ripped her- your blade from the man’s arm. You flinched knowing how it felt.
“Where’s your guard?”
You didn’t particularly have a guard but you knew she meant Byrnes.
“She’s dead.”
Your eyes shot to the man in an accusing glare. His hand was clenched around his bleeding wound as he glared back
He mumbled something in their foreign language and Lexa shifted her gaze towards him, he spoke some more, scrabbling to his feet as his eyes burned holes into your soul.
You tried to avoid thinking about what Finn had done. How the people he had killed were real, with families and feelings, and how many people hated him.
But at moments like this, when people looked at you with that fiery hate, you couldn’t help but feel responsible. You could have stopped him. He listens to you, you should have-
Lexa looked back at you as if expecting to hear your rebuttal to the mans obvious argument against you. When her eyes found the red marks on your neck she seemed to think better of it.
You recognized the next words that came out of her mouth.
“Yu gonplei ste odon”
You knew this meant death. You knew from the fear in his eyes and from the words you heard whispered in battles. Her eyes found yours and you were taken aback by the rage that burned within them.
“The kill is yours y/n.”
You froze. How was you killing him different from Lexa doing it? It wasn’t like you hadn’t been prepared to kill before. To kill her. Was this some kind of twisted ‘I told you so’? Was she trying to shove it on your face that you weren’t capable of murder?
You aimed the gun at his head an angry snarl on your lips.
You tried not to let your hands quiver. Your mind was invaded with thoughts of Finn. The look of horror on his face when he realized what he had done. His tears on your shirt as he told you he deserved to die. His lifeless body up in flames.
You clenched your teeth and switched to gripping the gun, which was now violently trembling, with both hands.
The man used your hesitation to rise to his feet as he slowly backed away from you. Lexa watched you, unconcerned with the man’s possible escape attempt. She was patient, she wasn’t pressuring you and she wasn’t smirking like you pictured she would be. You considered shooting her when a loud growl erupted from the woods. Birds fled the trees as the ground beneath you rumbled.
The fear on all of their faces worried you. There were no animals on the Ark, and besides the dead ones Bellamy brought back, you had never seen one. On the Ark, you were told humans were at the top of the food chain. Your time on earth had led you to question that.
“What is that”
“Pauna” The way the word rolled off her tongue led you to believe that that was their native word for the creature. You tried to wrack your brain for the animal lecture in earth skills, but anxiety allowed you to think only of your heart being ripped out from your chest.
You jumped when Lexa swiftly tore her sword from its sheath and cut the grounder man down. She was quick and agile, her blade easily tearing through his tendons as she pushed him to the ground.
“RUN!”
When you stood watching him she grabbed your hand and yanked you forward. You tried desperately to keep up with her. She was familiar with the terrain and was quick, jumping over rocks and dodging trees. You on the other hand stumbled over sticks and were whipped by branches. The blood on your stomach had slowly started to seep through your shirt and with every step pain shot up through the cut.
Lexa never let go of your hand. Even when your sweaty fingers caused you to slowly slip from her grasp she would slow down just enough to latch her fingers back before resuming her speed.
You tried not to look behind you when the roars grew louder, or when the trees toppled like they were sticks, or when you heard a loud wail followed by the snapping of bones.
You kept your eyes trained on Lexa’s hand and tried to ignore the blood that stuck your shirt against your stomach.
You allowed your eyes to search for anywhere to go. As much as earth skill has failed you, you remembered that when being chased by an animal running straight was the worst thing to do. To your left, you spotted what appeared to be an old drain covered by a large metal gate.
You tugged at her hand to try and get her attention.
“Hey wait.”
Her and the attendant slowed, both not fond of stopping.
“We should go in there.” Your voice came out in shallow bursts as you tried to breathe.
“Hide.” The cold air burned your throat as you coughed.
She nodded motioning to her escort as you took off for the gate. Her hand slipped out of yours as you gripped the gate. It was heavy and with the wound on your bicep that you could feel slowly reopening, you didn’t have the strength to pull it.
She didn’t say anything. Didn’t mock you or call you weak. Didn't laugh like Murphy would have or tell you you needed to workout as Bellamy and Finn would have. She just gripped the gate and tugged. She grunted as the plate slid away before moving her hand to your lower back to push you through.
You kicked open the next gate, not wanting to watch her best you again.
The piles of bones made you freeze. They were everywhere, some human some not. Lexa ran right into your frozen figure. Her hands went to your hips as if by reflex to steady you both. You jerked out of her grasp but didn’t make any effort to move farther away. The bones freaked you out too much.
As you looked around you noticed there was more than just bones. Blood ran down the rocks and the sound of buzzing flies filled the air. Half torn apart animals lay dead on display and the whole place smelled like rotting hell.
“Where are we?”
“It’s her feeding ground” Those words almost made you reach for her hand again but you refrained. You grabbed the rocks in front of you hoisting yourself up and onto the rocks. You froze and almost let go when the rotting face of some animal appeared in front of you, Lexa’s hand on your back kept ushering you forward.
“Come on.”
At the top of the rocks, you approached a dead end. The smell had becomes so awful that you felt at any second you might hurl. The feeling seemed to be common on Earth. You turned around to face the roars as Lexa drew her sword.
God, you wished she had a gun. As cool as swords were they where less than useless in a fight against an animal, especially one that toppled trees like they were playing cards.
Your heart stopped dead in your chest as a large hairy creature jumped over the walls of the enclosure. Lexa grabbed your bicep and you hissed lowly as her fingernails sunk into the wound.
Monkey.
The word popped into your head, but you had no time to congratulate your mental victory as the monkey pounced on Lexa’s attendant. The creature ripped his arms off as the man screamed in pure agony.
This time you did throw up.
The creature tossed the body to the side where it collided harshly with a wall, dead. The creature beat her chest and hollered. You were pretty sure there was an old movie like this your dad used to watch.
You wiped the bile from your mouth and looked at Lexa. She was useless in this situation, she couldn’t do anything unless the monster came closer, and if that happened you'd both be dead.
You shot the monster with the gun. The feeling of the kickback sent pinpricks through your body as your arm jolted with every shot. You stopped for a second as the monster fell back. Bellamy use to brag that he never used more than five bullets to hunt an animal. You were pretty sure that was five, she definitely wasn’t dead though.
In fact, she seemed even angrier now, picking up a large boulder and tossing it carelessly into your direction. You ducked as the rock broke into dust and rained over your heads.
Maybe 5 more.
On the fifth, the ape fell back into a large ravine surrounding the enclosure.
You breathed a sigh of relief and allowed your muscles to relax. Lexa grabbed your jacket and pulled you as another loud roar vibrated through the air.
No monster would die so easily.
She was flying through the air now, you were off and running before you saw her land. Not that it mattered, you could feel the vibrations through the ground and they caused you to stumble.
“COME ON!” Lexa yelled at you. Her annoyance was rather pestering.
“I’m trying. Just shut up and go!”
You could no longer hear the monkey advancing from behind you, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t close. You turned around to see her location and collided with a bar. It hit the dead center of your wound and you let out a cry of pain. Lexa spun around to see the creature’s eyes look up at the sound, another loud roar was released.
Better dead from impact than dead from decapitation. You jumped over the rail. The shock of impact traveled up your knees. You stubbled as Lexa landed next to you. You had been lucky enough to land on the dirt, Lexa however had landed on brick. The impact must have broken her ankle because she let out a small scream.
“Oh for fucks sake.” First, you had tried desperately to kill her and now you were about to be the only thing keeping her alive. You wrapped your hands around her waist as she flung her arm over your neck.
You two were hobbling off as the monkey landed behind you. Its bulky body making the ground tremble. You dropped to your knees and scurried through a small gate at the base of the wall. You reached around to drag Lexa through but watched in horror as the monkey grabbed her leg dragging her back
Her fingers latched onto a bar and you heard her wrist pop as the creature tried to yank her back.
“Leave me!” if anyone else had offered themselves for sacrifice you would have felt it was heroic, but for some reason when Lexa did it it just pissed you off.
“God damn it Lex.” You tried to ignore how the nickname rolled off your tongue as you ripped the gun from where you had shoved it on your waistband and shot a few more bullets at the creature. The thing wasn't going to be killed by your puny bullets but they did get it to back off for a few seconds.
You told yourself that the only reason you grabbed her was that you had no idea how to get back to anywhere without her. And because she had saved you it was your job to return the favor. That was the only reason.
When it finally let go you grabbed her by the scruff of her jacket and dragged her through the entrance kicking the pole that held the door open and watching as it slammed shut, the room shivered. You needed to get out of here and fast. Getting Lexa to hop along with you would take hours. You huffed before bending down to scoop her onto your back. Her skin warmed your back as her breath fanned your neck.
“Wrap your arms around my neck.” She followed your instructions but stayed dead still and silent.
You continued to jog along, slightly faster now that you weren’t dragging her along. Another kicked-down door led you to a type of large cage where you let your hands fall from her things as she practically fell to the floor with a thump.
“Sword.” she glared at you but held it out. You slid it through brackets on the door, hoping that the thin strip of iron would be enough to keep the ragging beast away.
You took this time to look back on Lexa. She had shifted so her back was against a large boulder protruding from the ground, her left hand was draped over her side and her right lay limp next to her. Her head was tossed back with closed eyes as she took deep breaths.
* * * * * * * *
You tore the rest of your shirt into strips -a technique Clarke had demonstrated many times- before wrapping your own leaking wounds and forming an attempted splint for Lexa’s arm. The popping noise it had made was a sign of obvious injury, that and the fact that she couldn't move it. You weren't too trained in medicine so until you got her to Clarke it was the best you could do.
You tied the knots harshly, her shoulder jerking with every tug. You felt yourself internally smirking when she hissed in pain.
“You should have left me behind.” The smirk faded into a frown.
“I considered it.” She didn’t even bother to look at you.
“Now two will die here instead of one.” You nodded slowly, contemplating her words.
“Hmm. Well, that had always been the plan. Looks like I’m not so bad at murder after all.”
You allowed your eyes to wander the cage, searching for an exit. Hell if you were going to let Lexa tell you how you were going to die.
“It’s not a joke y/n.” You hated how she said your name. The way it rolled of her rouge with just the slightest Trigedasleng accent, the way she spoke it as if she knew your soul.
You stomped away from her and rattled the bars, disappointed when none of them crumbled under your fingers.
“You know I won’t always be there to save you.” She never failed to say the right thing to piss you off.
“I saved you”
“And it was a mistake”
“You know what, I don’t want you to save me. I’m going to die on this damned planet, we all are. And I’d rather not have you interfering.”
She looked you up and down with a sneer.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Wanna bet?” You were on a roll now and once you got started you couldn’t stop.
“I tried to kill you, multiple times. And yet you do nothing. Wanna know why I saved you? Because if you’re going to die it’s going to be by my hands on my terms. I want to watch your eyes as you realize that the death you could have avoided by killing me- has come for you.”
At some point in your rant, you had walked back over to her. You towered over her laid-back frame, your eyes searching hers. Your frown shot to a scowl when her lips curved up.
“My spirit will avenge my death.”
“Your fucking spirit?” You gripped the sides of her head tilting her head side to side to peer in her eyes.
Clarke had once told you if the pupils didn’t dilate then the person had a concussion. Or was it the other way around? Had she hit her head as well on the fall?
She brushed your hand away as you continued glaring at her. If she kept this up you were going to have wrinkles by your 30′s.
“When I die, my spirit will find the next commander.”
“And then what, she’ll continue on with your legacy to kill my family?” Lexa’s smile fell and she watched you.
The banging and roars resumed on the door before she could answer you. Your glare crumbled away and was quickly replaced with fear as the door rattled. You both quickly rose to your feet as bits of rock and dust cascaded from above
The sword holding the door wavered and bent as the pounding against it resumed. You and Lexa slowly walked backward until your backs hit the rusted metal bars of the cage.
“Dammit.”
“Don’t be afraid y/n, death is not the end.” You were convinced she was fucking crazy.
“We’re not going to fucking die here.”
Her fear seemed to vanish at your words as she pulled a small dagger from her hip, slowly moving towards the door.
“Then get ready to fight. It’s coming in.”
Lexa may have been strong, her biceps and softly curved back muscles were a display of that. But she was actually crazy if she was going to take on a super-sized sumo monkey with a 5-inch dagger. Alone too, because your gun was out of bullets.
You grabbed her shirt and dragged her with you, pressing your back flat against the rusted metal wall and using your palm to hold her back too.
A quick nod was exchanged before pulling the bent sword out of its holder. The second you did, the creature came barreling in, Immediately sliding to face you.
“GO. GO!”
You pushed Lexa ahead of you quickly slamming the door and latching it the proper way behind you. Your lungs ached in protest as your palms went to your knees and you hunched over. The cut in your side was starting to bleed through your makeshift bandages. So much for your medical skills. You weren’t given a second to think before Lexa was off again, you following quickly behind her.
* * * * * * * *
The Running had exhausted you both, mainly you. The moment Lexa deemed you were a safe distance away you allowed yourself to collapse. You laid your back against a fallen tree branch and winced when the cut on your side rubbed against your coat. Now that the adrenalin was gone all the pain felt amplified tenfold. Your legs ached with every step and your knees wobbled. The cuts on your arm and stomach had soaked through your makeshift bandages. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw.
God, you missed painkillers.
“Your hurt.”
Lexa had obviously been too preoccupied to realize this in the last hours you’d been running. You scoffed and scowled at where she stood leaning against a tree. Her ankle was fine, the impact had just temporarily shocked it, her wrist however was definitely broken.
“No thanks to you.”
“You reopened the wound.” She spoke as if you had a choice. As if you could have asked the monkey to chase you a little slower so you could jog instead of run.
“Wounds that you gave me.”
“Wounds that I healed.” You sneered at her but couldn't think of a reasonable comeback, and with the oncoming headache, you weren’t going to try to.
You saw her eyes trailing up you slowly, from your scuffed-up boots to your low zipped jacket, and spending more time scrutinizing your face. Analyzing damage, you considered. She had grabbed sticks, rubbing them together in a method you had faintly remembered Finn doing. It was silent for a while. You watching small sparks fly before her small pile of leaves sparked and caught a flame. You allowed yourself to watch it for a while, occasionally throwing sticks in.
The sticks were wet and could possibly put out the fire. To be honest the only reason you were tossing them in was because of the way Lexa bit her lip and furrowed her brow in aggravation every time you did.
“I will heal them again when we get back”
You moved away from the tree and laid your head on the dirt, your hands acting as a pillow of support. You faced away from the fire and let the flames warm your back.
“Whatever.”
* * * * * * * *
You awoke with a shout, glancing around quickly. It had been a dream. She wasn’t dead, she was right there in front of you. A knife mid-sharpening stroke as she stared at you with wide eyes. You took a few deep breaths, allowing yourself to calm down.
The loud roar from the distance made you rise to your feet.
“You’re okay. You’re safe”
Your death wasn’t the one that scared you.
It was burned into your mind. The nightmare of Finn dying, of his body morphing into that of Lexa. And you, unable to save either of them.
You made no effort to tell her this information. Her neck had a thick red line from where your t-shirt had rubbed against it, irritating the skin. Your neck must have looked similar.
“How's your arm?”
You didn't really care but the point of diverting the topic away from concerns about you was enough of a reason to ask.
“Hurts.”
She raised her eyebrows at you as if signifying this was the most ridiculous question she had been asked. The silence was deafening and for some reason set you on the edge.
“We should get going, that cage won’t hold forever.”
You pushed your self to your feet, bushing your thighs and arms in a fetal attempt to clean the dirt from your body.
“Wait.”
You held your breath as you turned to face her. Any confrontation with her put you on edge, afraid that any second she would drag a blade across your throat and watch you with those piercing eyes as you bled on her shoes.
When she took a step towards you, you allowed your shoulders to tense but did not try and move away.
“We are allies now, for the sake of your people and mine you need to let your anger towards me go.”
“Let it go? You killed my family. The best I can give you is toleration.”
Lexa cared about you. Even if it was just a slimmer of guilt that made her fight to keep you alive, it was enough to be the end of her.
________________________________________________________________
TAGLIST: @samustar @chicken-wang09
Part 3
#lexa the 100#heda lexa#lexa x reader#lexa kom trikru#commander lexa x reader#commander lexa#lexa#The 100#the 100 octavia#the 100 masterlist#the 100 x reader#bellamy blake#bellamy x reader#bellamy blake x reader#bellamy blake x reader series#raven reyes#raven reyes x reader#raven x reader#clarke griffin#clarke griffin x reader#masterlist#series#enemies to lovers
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