#i always imagine him with the voice and personality of apex legends revenant

[incorrectwarframequotes]

Revenant: An enemy is just an ally that you haven't forcefully bent to your will yet...

[unholyplumpprincess]

Drabble: Mine

An imagine for @/Z0mb13_b100d_XD on Twitter! Though it ended up more of a drabble, really! But how can I resist revhound?

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni as this is adult content, you will be blocked!!!

Reblogs > Likes. Reblog it if you hit like to freely support me and encourage more fics :D

Summary: Revhound. Revenant is jealous of how friendly Fuse is being to Bloodhound and wants to remind the hunter who they belong to.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Pairing: Revenant x Bloodhound

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Bloodhound headcanons + they have a vulva, jealousy, possessive behavior, exhibitionism

Words: 900

____

Fleshsuits were always an issue to Revenant. Sure some were annoyances, some were just plain disgusting, but then sometimes? Sometimes even Revenant thought they had no place in the world. Breathing its air. Stealing the oxygen they didn’t deserve, their wet meat-bound bodies perfect for slaughter. No use for blood in them.

So who just was it that Revenant was so huffy about that even he thought they needed to take a walk down the rainbow road sooner rather than later?

Walter. Fucking. Fitzroy.

If you asked anyone, Walter was a kind man who would give you the shirt off his back and the last twenty dollars in his back pocket. Kind, charming, a friendly man.

To Revenant? He was competition.

~Rest under the cut here~

The hunter of his affections was getting all buddy-buddy with the pyrotechnical bastard. Revenant had heard them laugh-- laugh! This beautiful, genuine sound that only so far he had heard. Not the laugh they did when he said something they thought was petty and they’d do it in a mocking way. But a genuine laugh he’d heard when he’d visited their village and seen them helping children with their hair for the summer solstice festivities.

The day Revenant had seen them look at him with fire in their eyes, a hunger in their soul.

So why. Just why. Was his little hunter- his little red- sharing such intimate moments with this waste of space- this waste of a perfectly good new flesh rug of a man?

They’re on a duos. Revenant and Bloodhound. They’re as beautiful as ever all geared up and on the prowl of Storm Point. Their triple take is steady, Revenant’s sensors picking up how they hold their breath as they steady their aim and squeeze the trigger to pop some poor sucker’s head in one go.

It’s always erotic to him. How poised they could be. How they could be so collected and c-

“I wonder if Fitzroy is managing with Octavio.” Bloodhound’s words break his thoughts, and Revenant swears he sees red at the mention of his name. His name when they’re on a team. This is his time, and they’re still thinking about him.

Revenant’s snarl is not subtle. His new chassis makes it deeper, a rumble of gravel in his throat. The maw of his beast-like new suit clicks shut with metallic teeth, and he swears he can hear the way Bloodhound smiles behind their respirator.

The creak of metal is heard from how Revenant squeezes his mastiff hard enough to bend the metal. His voice coming out low as he turns his gaze down onto Bloodhound who has their head lightly tilted towards him as if waiting his response.

“If you think about him any more, maybe you’ll start developing an accident-prone personality like him. Growin’ like a cancer in your body.”

“You do not take kindly to my friendship with him?” Bloodhound’s voice is honest, if a bit teasing. Their gaze focused back on their scope. And for a moment, Revenant imagines they’re watching Fuse. That they’re watching him, even if they’re with Revenant right now.

His weapon creaks again. This time drawing Hound’s attention to him.

“You’re testing my patience, Red.”

“As you test mine by avoiding my question.”

--

Revenant couldn’t take it anymore. But, it’s as if Bloodhound was anticipating his behavior. When he practically throws them to the ground of the upstairs of the Control Center, he swears he hears their breath hitch in glee.

There’s a rush to undo their pants, a rush to get them even halfway undressed so he can yank them up. Their back against the wall, their legs folded in half towards their chest and their cunt in his face. All the while Revenant snarls filth to them as his long tongue buries into them, working them into a snarling mess.

“Yeah? Like that, Hound? You love my tongue, don’t you? Fuckin’ Fitzroy can’t even make you half the mess I do.” His voice is guttural, needy. Hound brought that out in him. The fine line of where beast and man lay.

Hound sounds like a dream. Their moans are desperate sounds, their hips trying so hard to hump against the silicone tongue that flicks across them. Revenant makes sure to keep his grip firm on their wrists, his long limbs keeping them suspended and pinned all at once.

No need to breathe. No need to pull back so his mouth could move to speak- his voice box does the trick even when he’s buried tongue deep in their pussy. His optics spin as he watches them, watching how their helmeted head tosses to the side, how their respirator hisses with each breath to accommodate their panting.

“Scream my name, baby. Let everyone hear you. Let Fitzroy know who you belong to, pup.”

Revenant imagines him running in here to take out a moaning, wounded enemy. He imagines Fuse’s face as he sees Bloodhound taken apart by a beast like him. He imagines how his face would fall, how Hound would be crying Revenant’s name like a mantra, a prayer. Like Revenant was the god they were the one sacrificing to-- worshipping.

“R-Rev-- Reva--” Their voice is a cry between snarls. Their body starting to shake, straining against him, their grip flexing in his wrists when Revenant’s tongue pauses on them.

“Come oooon, Houndie. Know you can scream louder than that. Wanna cum, dontcha? Let’s hear my puppy howl, hm?”

[cynical-sprite]

(an Apex Legends Revenant x reader fic where the reader and Revenant were in a relationship back when he was human, and, after his “death”, the reader was put into cryogenic suspension for some reason. 200 some years pass, and the reader is thawed out, and she and she is reunited with her former lover who is now the simulacrum Revenant. I had the name Michael in mind, but someone on twitter mentioned that he looked like a James to them, and I thought that was a near perfect fit, so I went with James instead.) This story is based on an THIS IDEA I came up with. If anyone wants to write their own fic based on this idea, it's perfectly fine with me; I just ask that you send me a link to the fic so I can read it.😊

I could feel the stare from across the room as I sat on the drop ship, waiting to drop into World’s Edge. Though unsure whether out of nervousness or curiosity, maybe both, I glanced in the direction where the glare was coming from only to be met with a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the darkness, locked on to me with laser focus. It was the simulacrum, Revenant. A simulacrum, a human consciousness in a robotic body; I found the idea equal parts fascinating and terrifying at the same time. Though the notion was somewhat intriguing to my scientific side, there was  also a part of me that considered the idea to be wrong, just… against nature. I’d heard the stories about Revenant, the rumor that, in life, he was once the greatest assassin The Syndicate ever had. The Syndicate’s greatest assassin. To my knowledge, there was only one person who had ever been given that title… James. We were engaged to be married when James died. We both knew well the dangers of his job, but it did little to ease the pain of being delivered the news of his death. Though I didn't have any proof, I'd always somewhat suspected The Syndicate was responsible somehow, that it had possibly been intentional. The rumors surrounding Revenant were partly what caused me to join The Apex Games, that, and the need to find something to make me feel alive after spending the last two hundred or so years in cryogenic suspension. Since I'd been brought out of cryo sleep a few years ago, I’d wandered somewhat aimlessly, trying to find my place in this new life. When I heard about The Apex games and the rumors surrounding their newest participant, Revenant, I had to see for myself. The games would give me the thrill I sought, and I would get the chance to encounter Revenant, see him for myself. Perhaps I was crazy for even considering the possibility that the simulacrum could somehow be, or could ever have been James, but I just had to find out somehow; I had to face Revenant in person. What did I have to lose besides my life, which, at the moment, sorely lacked purpose.

    I was startled from my thoughts by the voice of Elliott Witt aka Mirage. “Damn, _______, what’d you do to piss off the murder bot?” I blinked in surprise as I managed to turn my gaze away from Revenant and turned to look at Elliott beside me.

   “What? Nothing. I… I didn’t…” I shook my head slightly. “I mean, I couldn’t have done anything to him. We’ve never even met…” 

   "Could've fooled me." Elliott remarked. Though the simulacrum was certainly an unsettling presence, there was a strange feeling of… familiarity, even if only slightly, that I couldn't seem to shake. Or maybe I was just imagining it. Wishful thinking perhaps? I didn't have time to give it any more consideration as the announcement was made that we would be dropping into World's Edge.

   The first half of the match went fairly well; my squad had managed to make it into the top ten. During the second half of the match, I managed to get separated from my squadmates, Mirage and Octane. We were about to be hit with an EMP from Crypto's drone, and the three of us scattered, fleeing in different directions. I tried to reach them over the comms, but, evidently, the EMP had apparently disrupted those as well. 

   As I wandered World's Edge alone, attempting to get the comms working again so I could get in touch with Elliott and Octavio, I quickly got the feeling someone was watching me, stalking me even. My first thought was of Bloodhound. They could easily trail me without being noticed; they were, after all, a hunter and a tracker. Another possibility was Wraith; she could follow me virtually undetected as well. But, when I turned around to take a look, I was taken somewhat off guard by what I saw; standing a few feet away from me stood the simulacrum, Revenant, staring at me just as he had when we were on the drop ship. I shouldn't have been surprised, but for some reason, he had been the last person I'd expected to be there.

  "Hello, girlie." He took a few steps towards me, his glowing yellow eyes staring a hole in me all the while. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared; anyone in their right mind would be. But, I did everything I could not to show it. I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing it. I probably should have run, but something kept me rooted to the spot. Besides, I was certain there was no way I'd be able to outrun the simulacrum should he decide to give chase. So, instead, I did my best to look intimidating, trying not to let on just how anxious I was. 

   "What do you want from me?" If he'd wanted to simply kill me, there would be no reason for observing me so closely, would there? There must have been more to it… He laughed, a deep rumble in his chest, and had he the ability to make facial expressions, I was reasonably sure he'd have been grinning, no… smirking. He continued towards me until he was directly in front of me, towering over me at almost seven feet tall. His yellow eyes were still glued to me, scanning me over, taking me in. He bent down slightly, presumably to  get a better look at me. Observing me even more closely. There was something hypnotic about those eyes, something that made it difficult to look away, and, maybe this sounds crazy, but I couldn't help thinking that, if you looked deep enough, close enough, there was something almost… human about them. 

   He reached out a hand, and in that moment, I thought my life had reached its end. I had seen video footage where his hand morphed into a blade with which he'd use to put a swift end to the lives of many "skinbags". I was certain that was to be my fate, that or he was about to snap my neck in one swift motion. What actually happened, however, was the last thing I expected. He placed a finger under my chin and tilted my face upwards to better look him in the eyes. His touch was surprisingly gentle for a killer simulacrum. I froze in place, both shocked and confused by the action. 

   It reminded me of something, bringing back a memory I'd half buried in my grief. James was 6 feet tall, a good bit taller than me. Snarky asshole that he was, he loved to tease me for being shorter than him. I'd always tease him back that I wasn't short, that he was just unnaturally tall. Whenever he wanted to look into my eyes, he would place a finger gently under my chin and tilt my head slightly upwards for me to better look into his deep blue eyes. Just as the Revenant was doing now.

   "What… what is this...?" was all I could manage. Could it be true? Was it really him? It couldn't simply some strange coincidence, could it? 

   He let out a slight chuckle, a low sound from deep in his chest."You always have been a tiny little skinbag, haven't you, _______?"

   My mouth dropped open, and I froze in place. Finally, I managed to stammer out the name, a name I hadn't spoken for so long. "J… James…?" The simulacrum froze upon hearing me speak the name. It was clear by his reaction that he hadn't heard in quite a long time, if he'd even remembered it at all. I was unsure just how much the human aspect of his mind had been affected. He tilted his head slightly to the side as he looked at me.

    "Heh. I wasn't sure if you'd recognize me." He was still for a moment before leaning in even closer. "Or, if you'd remember. But, then again, I didn't think I'd ever see you again. Alive, at least." If I didn't know better, I could have sworn I'd heard something in his voice; he sounded almost… hurt. Was he upset about not knowing I was still alive? It wasn't as if I could come to him and tell him. Until a few moments ago, I hadn't even been sure that he was who he was. And, it wasn't as if anyone else could tell him I was alive. Almost no one knew the details of his identity when he was still human.

   "James, I…"

   "James is dead." he snapped, cutting me off. I shook my head.

   "No. No, that's not true. There has to be something left of you in there. You knew who I was, this whole time, you remembered me. It's true you may be made up of mostly tech and mechanics, but your mind… your mind is still yours. And those emotions you're feeling, hurt, rage… those are all very human. Machines can't feel emotion; that's something exclusive to humans. Or, at least, living creatures…"

   "I'm not him anymore. I'm a ghost, a shell of that man. A Revenant."

   "James, I…"

   "Revenant." he corrects me, cutting me off once more.

   "Revenant. I had no idea… about what they'd done to you. I mean, I had my suspicions about the Syndicate, that they had something to do with your death, but… but, afterwards…" A tear escaped my eye, running slowly down my cheek. "I had no idea what they'd done to you. I'm so sorry..." I blinked as another tear ran down my face. He let out what sounded much like a frustrated sigh rather reminiscent of the ones he used to in life whenever I'd say something sappy to him. Being a hitman, James was never the romantic type, but whenever I'd make an attempt, he would always just sigh, sometimes even going so far as to humor me.

   Slowly, he moved his hand up to wipe a tear from my eye, much more gently than I'd have expected from a killer robot.

   "You skin bags are always so emotional." he remarked, though his voice was softer than I'd have thought possible. "You couldn't have known, so cut it out, alright?" Though it sounded harsh, I knew better. Even in life, he was never much good at reassurance; this was the closest you'd get from him. He was trying in his own way. 

   I nodded. "Okay… okay." 

   "Now, you want to tell me how it is a skinbag like you is still alive after all these years. I mean, you do look old, but not that old." I could hear the snark in his voice at his last comment, and, if it had been possible, I was certain he would have been smirking. It earned a slight chuckle from me.

   "Well, that does tend to happen to us skinbags. We age." I shook my head, grinning slightly. "It's… kind of a long story. It involves spending over a decade in cryosleep. I got thawed out a few years ago. But, now's not the time for that. I'll give you the details later, after the match." He silently leaned in, resting his forehead lightly against mine. 

   A few moments later, I heard footsteps approaching. I whipped around and pulled out my Alternator, pointing it in the direction of the footsteps, only to come face to face with my squad mates, Mirage and Octane. "Jesus, you two!" I yelled, lowering my weapon, "Don't do that! I almost shot you guys!" Elliott was holding his hands up in a defensive manner, looking rather shaken. 

   "Okay, okay! Don't have to tell me twice!" he remarked, exhaling a deep breath he'd evidently been holding. "What's this all about?" He gestures towards Revenant and me with his hand.

   "When I saw you two, at first I thought I must be seeing things. But, then, Elliott said he was seeing it, too, so I knew it had to be real." Octavio commented.

   Revenant chuckled lowly. "Well, looks like it's time for me to go. You've got some explaining to do to your friends. See you soon, girlie." And, with that, he disappeared as quickly as he'd first appeared earlier. 

   "Since when are you so cozy with the murder bot? What the hell did we miss?" Elliott remarked. I sighed, rolling my eyes. 

   "Later. I'll explain later. Right now, just focus on the games or I'll shoot you myself." 

[seerofmike]

Swimming in Ball Gowns

pairing: bubblysparks/wattson x rampart word count: 2,007 rating: t for some light violence tags: soulmate au, kind of rivals to friends to lovers summary: Hearing your soulmate say the words on your wrist was supposed to be a joyous, life-changing moment. For Natalie, it was the exact opposite.

so i combined day 2 and day 3 into one fic! the first chap establishes the soulmate au, second chap should be a beach day fic! hope u guys enjoy :3

read on ao3

OR

below

‘Fancy a swim?’ had been on her wrist for as long as she could remember. The phrase had always been odd to her; before, she hadn't known the meaning of ‘fancy’ in this context, so she had spent several years of her early childhood thinking that she would meet her soulmate while swimming in a ball gown.

It sounded messy and heavy and inconvenient, but whenever she had mouthed those words to herself that was what had come to mind. Eventually her Papa had corrected her and told her its true meaning, but honestly, Natalie Paquette would have much preferred it the way she'd imagined.

At least swimming in ball gowns had a certain silly charm to it—as opposed to being punted into the Geyser and being blown back forty feet into the Ring that she had designed.

Her squad was in the top three. Mirage was sending out decoy after decoy as Pathfinder grappled around, Bloodhound’s squad firing at him and wasting their precious ammo. Natalie had set up one of her pylons in the building alongside her, fences protecting them from outsiders, but she knew that she would have to rotate soon; the Ring would be closing in on her very position, forcing her to scuttle out of the building and past the Geyser.

“Mirage,” Natalie said, and he turned to look at her from where he was positioned in the doorway. “Please ask Pathfinder to set us up a zipline. I am going to try and—”

“I have been downed!” Came Pathfinder’s cheerful voice at that exact moment. “Oh no! We are being attacked by another squad! Goodbye, friends!”

And just like that, his banner popped up on their minimaps, urging them to pick it up.

“That stupid tin can,” Mirage sighed, and Natalie frowned at his rude words, but said nothing. “Okay, when the Ring starts movin’, I’ll send out a few ban—bomb—decoys and scatter ‘em so we can run, okay? Hopefully everyone starts shooting at them instead.”

It did not sound like a very good plan, but it was better than nothing. They honestly should have rotated a long time ago, but a certain competitor had set up a turret on the opposite side of the little valley, and made moving outside very risky. She swore that she could hear the other girl’s laughter and the sounds of her bullets hitting the floor all the way from here. Why did she have to be so loud?

Natalie tried her best to be polite to all of the competitors in the Apex Games, especially ones chosen by Mr. Blisk himself, but Ramya Parekh made it nearly impossible for Natalie to like her. She was loud, crass, and quite frankly, rude. She reminded her a bit of Octane, but at least Octane’s quips were much friendlier—’c’mon, amigo, we should go do that again!’

All Rampart knew how to do was talk big and be mean.

And why did everyone think that she was so funny? Was there a joke that she was missing out on? ‘If I ever let ya down, it’s probably because I grew tired of carrying you’ —she had said this to Mirage yesterday, and everyone had laughed! Mirage was a senior competitor of the Apex Games, and Rampart was not. Why did she think that she would have to carry him? What was wrong with teamwork?

The newest Legend hadn’t even spoken one word directly to her, but Natalie already couldn’t help but think that they wouldn’t get along. She hated to admit it, but not even she could be friends with everyone.

“Round seven,” the announcer said, and Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “Beginning Ring countdown.”

Picking her pylon back up, she tucked her Hemlok close to herself and nodded at Mirage, who burst through the door of the building, cloaking himself and sending out decoys in every direction. It was a fascinating piece of technology that she would like to know more about, but they’d never quite had the time to discuss it.

Taking cover beside a decoy, she kept low as bullets exploded in front of her, someone firing at the cloaked Mirage—though invisible, his feet were clearly kicking up water. Natalie considered using the Geyser to send herself to their new location, but Bloodhound was sniping this match, and there was no doubt in her mind that while she flew up in a predictable arc, they would shoot at her.

Natalie figured that she could run around the Geyser and duck low next to the buildings opposite of them so that she could stay hidden. She zig-zagged around it, taking careful note of who all was shooting at them—Bloodhound's squad, all three of them positioned on high ground...Bangalore taking potshots at Mirage while the whoosh of Octane's jump-pads filled the air...

Someone was unaccounted for, and she only realized who when she rounded the Geyser and was met with the bright brown eyes of the last person she wanted to see right now.

“‘Ello, luv,” Rampart greeted, messy brown ponytail swaying in the wind. She was holding her huge minigun in hand—‘Sheila’, if Natalie was remembering correctly. “Fancy a swim?”

Natalie fumbled with her Hemlok, hands shaky for a multitude of reasons, but she was too slow in her response; Rampart reared back, a devilish smile on her face, before swinging her minigun forward with all her might and slamming it right into Natalie. 

She felt several of her ribs crack as she was shoved into the Geyser, gasping as she flipped around unceremoniously in its blast. She accidentally inhaled a mouthful of water, choking, before she was being rocketed somewhere, unable to see which direction she was going due to the pain in her chest and the dizziness of her head.

Eyes squeezed shut, Natalie felt as though her entire body were burning, stinging in pain as she landed hard on her shoulder. Realizing with terror that she had flown into the Ring, she peeled her eyes open, staring in dismay at the safe zone forty feet ahead of her. 

But her dismay at landing in her own creation was nothing compared to the shock and near-horror that had taken hold of her as she had heard those words.

Fancy a swim? Rampart had laughed, poking her tongue through the gap in her teeth, and she was quite sure that she had never felt such dismay before.

“Oh no,” Natalie mumbled in French, knowing she was one tick of damage away from dying. “Not her.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dying in the Ring was humiliating to most, but it was ten times as embarrassing to Natalie, seeing as she was the one who had designed it.

After she had been treated by the doctors in the medbay, she wandered around the ship, wanting to be alone so that no one could see her shame. She found solace in one of the empty sitting rooms, and turned the TV on mute so that she could see how the Game ended.

Bloodhound's squad, consisting of Revenant and Gibraltar, was taken out when Bangalore's bombardment fell right in their path of rotation, and they'd been forced to either die in the Ring or run through it. They did not survive, and she watched Bangalore smirk, self-satisfied at the three new kills under her belt. 

Mirage was fumbling with Pathfinder’s banner on-screen, making a desperate attempt to resurrect him, and Natalie rooted for him silently. He had won solo before, and she knew that he was perfectly capable of winning by himself!

Her heart sank, though, as she watched Rampart approach, a jovial skip in her step that should be impossible due to the huge weight on her back. She set up her turret as Mirage cloaked himself, not noticing the enemy nearby, and Rampart winked directly at the camera before hopping onto Sheila and spraying the area around the respawn beacon.

We have our Apex Champions.

Shoulders slumping, Natalie sighed as she watched Rampart and Octane high-five, something akin to annoyance brewing inside of her, but she tried to calm herself down.

There was no reason to be angry, she thought. She had lost plenty of times before, and today was no different!

But it was.

The words on her wrist were tingling. It was very different.

Rampart's squad soon rose into the dropship, and Natalie waved at Octane in greeting. He waved back at her enthusiastically before making a beeline for Crypto’s room, which made her frown a little. She frowned even more when Rampart then approached her, blowing a large pink bubble before popping it.

Smack! Goodness, that noise aggravated her.

"No tough feelings, right, Watty?” Rampart asked, and though Octane and Mirage called her that nickname, hearing it from her made her bristle. “It was all a good show. Fun meetin’ ya this way! You’ll have to show me your tech sometime, got it?”

When Natalie didn’t respond, too taken-aback by the audacity of her, Rampart added,

“Electric bullets sound fun, don't they? No, not energy ammo—regular ammo, with electricity. Betcha could give me a few pointers over some drinks, eh?”

For some reason her face was flushing, and she realized that the reason why was annoyance. 

“I,” Natalie said shortly, fists clenched by her sides as she tried to keep her composure. “Would rather not. Have a good day, Miss Parekh.”

Turning her back on the girl and trying her best to not stomp away, she made her way back in the direction of her room, but stiffened in the hallway when Rampart called after her,

“Now, wait just a second! I think you’re my soulmate!”

“Ooooh,” Mirage said, having just emerged from the medbay with wide, eager eyes. “Do I hear gossip?”

“Now, let’s see, here,” Rampart said, and Natalie turned around slowly to see her peeling her glove off. “Have and a and good and day—all in caps, mind you—and miss and Parekh. This checks out.”

“Has nobody ever told you to have a good day before?” Mirage asked, bewildered.

“Not in that exact order. Miss...Paquette, was it?” Rampart chuckled to herself, smacking her gum once more, and ugh, that noise!! “Let me see your wrist!”

Natalie didn’t grace her with a response, instead choosing to run up the stairs without looking back, seeking out a more quiet place. A place far, far away from Ramya Parekh and her smacking gum and deafening minigun and crude laugh and...

Shutting herself inside a lone closet, Natalie sat on the floor and drew her knees up to her chest. She had always looked forward to meeting her soulmate; after all, her parents had been soulmates, and there was already a soulmate pair among the Legends in the form of Bangalore and Loba. It left her hopeful that maybe she too could one day meet her soulmate in the Games, but now, she wished she hadn't—or, at least, that it had been someone different.

Perhaps she should at least try to talk to her—Loba and Bangalore hadn't gotten along when they'd first met, after all! Maybe she just needed to give Rampart a chance and see what they had in common...but the last time this had happened, someone she considered a friend had betrayed her. She squeezed her eyes tight as she pictured Crypto's face, trying to fight the image back, but she couldn't.

She didn't want to allow herself to be so open to someone again after that had happened. She knew that their situations were different; even before that moment, Crypto had been 'suspicious', always keeping to himself and never talking to anybody, whereas Rampart was the opposite. But still, she hesitated to entertain the idea. She didn't want to be hurt again.

Rubbing her hands together, she tried to clear her mind and just enjoy the quiet of the closet she had taken refuge in it. She had the feeling that she would be needing a lot more quiet from now on.

[scur-vee]

Hewwo tell me about ya fav legend just gush 💚

thank u wolfy 💚

so my favourite legend by far is bloodhound. i just love everything about them. I've been maining since the first time i played apex, and i started playing in the first week so I've had a journey with them. i literally know all their voicelines and talk alongside them sjdskdjs. i imagine their hands to be really soft and for them to smell foresty, of pine. i love their accent. i love that they're representing the non-binary community. they're so committed to everyone and everything and sjdskdjs i love them. i watch their stories from the outlands alot and it never fails to give me chills. and i gotta give props to the lovely voice actor Ms. Allegra Clark, she is so proud to voice Bloodhound and always stands up for the non-binary/lgbtq+ community. though me and them are complete opposites so i feel like we'd be really good friends.

i simp hard for mirage and octane. we're all chaotic dumbasses who want love. we're all impatient and share one brain cell between us all. I'd imagine that me and mirage like to spend time at his bar together and he opens up to me alot about his brothers and his mother.

i love octane. im so attracted to the dumbass. I think at first, if we had feelings for each other, we'd both try to fight them but one day one of us would just blurt out that we liked them. i just imagine he's actually incredibly lonely and scared that he'll never live up to what people expect him to be, and that he'll lose the people/person closest to him, which i and many others can relate to. really want to set up a self-insert blog for me and him.

in general i love all the legends. Lifeline is baby, Wattson is adorable, Caustic and revenants voices melts my insides, Wraith is a cutie, Bangalore makes my pansexual heart yearn for her, and i just want to give Gibraltar a hug.

(thank you for the ask I really appreciate it bby 💚)

[unholyplumpprincess]

The Bet

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Summary: It should have just been a quick win bet to let you finally get your fix of Revenant again. 'Become champion' shouldn't have been too hard, considering you'd nailed him and his squad before he could get you in the past. And yet, of course, Revenant wants to always win. And he will win, especially if it means you're up on the table for him to have. Or. In which you and Revenant have a FWB situation and he's been teasing you for weeks with no relief. So you come up with a bet to mutually solve your issues, totally set on winning. How hard could it be?

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Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Revenant/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Revenant has a dick attachment, Reader is gender neutral and has a vulva, mentions of canon typical violence, relationship is shown more as FWB than romantic.

Words: 2.9k

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As far as anyone knew? Revenant was not a person who played well with others.

That was something he liked to keep up, a good face at that. He was good at growling out hate filled things of how pathetic a person was, mowing down people with a good hearty laugh about it, and making the cameras love him more and more. The Syndicate wanted to keep their little...falter under wraps. The fans all around thought him to be a ruthless killer with nothing but sadism and glee for it in his metal little heart- or rather, lack thereof. It drove them wild with excitement.

However, you knew better. You knew him in ways people couldn’t even fathom.

~Rest under the cut~

You knew of Revenant at his most vulnerable moments. To the way he didn’t immediately resort to violence if you so much as touched his shoulder, to the way he liked being under someone, to the way he squirmed under the lightest of brushes against a sensitive wire. You knew him to be sadistic as everyone else saw him, that may have been true, but what they didn’t get to see was him at his weakest points. Where weaponry was not needed besides a sharp tongue and painful wit.

No, you knew him on his knees, optics swirling with dangerous emotions as you cupped his cheek and told him what a good boy he was. You liked it that way too, that you were the only one who could see him like that. Of course, it wasn’t a strictly one on one relationship, nor was it a relationship at that. Friends with benefits wasn’t the right word either, not with the way he snarled his possession of you- even if he knew better than to stake a claim.

You were an addiction to him. An obsession. Revenant couldn’t get enough of you, and there was power behind that statement, wasn’t there?

The problem to that statement, however, was his want to tease. He wanted you as addicted to him as he was to you. One of his activities and games he liked to pull being making you forced to think about him. And what else better to make you do it than to limit your pleasures of his form? He’d thought it to be a brilliant idea.

You’d thought it to be infuriating.  

But, in the end, it worked, so maybe he was in the right.

It starts as a little game, something you could have laughed at and brushed off. Your sponsors had wanted you paired up with someone different, your chemistry with Wattson and Octane was always something to be excited about. Revenant had been paired up with Caustic and Wraith for the next two weeks of the season. This wasn’t an issue, though you two worked well together, you often butted heads. The issue with this?

Revenant had no issues going solo. And he certainly had no issues antagonizing you throughout firefights.

Out of the corner of your eye you always seemed to see a black and orange lit figure nearby, lit much like the fresh spread of lava. The amber glowing eyes in the darkness out of the corner of your eye always made shivers run down your spine. You knew his totem only allowed him to go so far, but much like a ghost he’d appear and then disappear when you’d finally whip around to aim a gun his direction.

Wattson had taken note of your behavior and the callouts of ‘enemy’ being nearby and had paused your squad’s trek to ask if you were alright, if you needed to take a second. You felt like you looked paranoid, not to mention it was a distraction technique- the bastard.

But, hard to think you’re imagining things when not a minute later you’re lagging behind and feel a smooth metal hand trace up your side from behind, a presence lingering behind you. A snarl in your ear and the growl of a voice box, “I could have my way with you right here-”

But when you whip around and press your wingman into his chest and pull the trigger, only a dark laugh follows as he zips back to his totem.

Fucker.

The sudden gunshot gets your teammates attention in question, Octane throwing up his hands in a ‘what the fuck’ gesture to you to which you reply with a half shrug as you speak into the comm, “Shot a cargo bot, missed.”

Even with goggles and a mask he doesn’t look convinced.

--

It happens again and again and again. Revenant likes his games, especially likes it when you’re waiting for him at any turn with your gun ready and your haunches pulled up like a flighty cat. He waits, and waits, and waits until you’re alone or lagging behind before he seems to find you. It’s little things, just a touch, a whisper, almost like a ghost is haunting you and driving you up a wall.

A hand brushes your side promisingly, another squeezes your hip or ass, a gruff voice growling in your ear- nothing above a whisper to never let the comms hear, “What a delicious example you would make if I fucked you open in front of all these cameras.” Wattson caught him that time, having only seen him sneak up behind you before she fired her sentinel perfectly into him and over your shoulder.

Another day, another haunting touch up to your chest, a skim of metal digits up the front of your throat, “A pathetic little toy you’d make for my squad, don’t you agree?” Before you’d managed to whip around and shoot a bullet right between his eyes. Your aim was getting better, but it’s only met with a delighted snarl as his ghost zipped back to his totem.

Every day, for the next week, he avoids you. Well, almost avoids. Revenant catches you in the hall sometimes, but before you can grab him and demand something, he skims right past you with a brush and a grunt of amusement. He’s playing you- playing you like a damned mouse to his cat. His plan is working, you’re fired up, near desperate to have him do the things he promises. But, there was just one, teensy little thing.

In your relationship? Whatever it was? You didn’t give up control. You were comfortable in it, liking to make him your bitch essentially. You liked him on his knees, liked him sounding desperate, hell you’d like him saying ‘please’ if he wasn’t so stubborn.

And he was very, very stubborn about politeness like: ‘Thank you’s and ‘please’s.

So, for him to come at you saying things like that? That was...new. You figured he was taunting you, maybe trying to spur you on, so you try to call him out on his bluff the next time you see him.

And the next time you see him? You don’t let him walk past you.

You push him to a nearby wall, pent up on no sexual relief but even more pent up in irritation. Revenant’s face doesn’t move, no muscles to really pull anything, but he does look at you with a look that must be curiosity- or hunger.

“You think you’re so funny,” You start with a growl to your own tone. It would never be as impressive as his own, but it gets his attention well enough. The way he tilts his head only serves to make your eyes narrow, mocking the same movement with your own head. Your eyes flicker across his face, licking your lips and gnawing your bottom lip briefly. “Fine. You want to be a tease? Play ghost? I’ll play games too.”

You hear him grunt in amusement, his optics hypnotically seeming to spin with deeper shades of oranges. You wait for him to gain interest before you continue, your hand stays twisted in his scarf, keeping him to the wall. It’d been weeks since you’d last fucked, you almost demand it, but instead you huff in amusement back at him. “A bet.”

The word makes him perk like a cat, his metal skeletal fingers wrapping around your wrist idly as you wait for him. Your eyes flicker between his optics as Revenant makes a soft noise in his chest, something that would sound like a rumbling purr on a big cat in contentment. “And what...sort of bet did you have in mind?” He almost sounds like a cartoon super villain the way he purrs it out, his thumb idly stroking along your pulse point. A quiet threat.

“The next person to be the champion is the winner. If you win, you can top next time, do whatever you want to me,” You start slowly, you’d had time to think of giving up control, but even you weren’t so confident as it comes out of your mouth. Almost tight in your throat. But the way he snarls in his chest tells you that that interested him enough.  

“And if I win- and I will win,” You begin again, tugging on his scarf to get his attention again. “You let me do whatever I want to you. Please and thank you’s included. You’ll be a good boy and do whatever I say. Do we have a deal?”

With too good of a bet on the table, of course he agrees. But, you know he’ll eat those words. He’ll be under your heel soon enough and give you that ‘please’ you’ve always dreamed of hearing. You’ve kicked his ass every round thus far with a bullet to the chest and the head.  

This would be a piece of cake.

--

It was not a piece of cake.

It seemed the bet WAS really too good because his kill count racks up higher than you’ve ever seen it get. You don’t even place top three with your own squad, maybe fifth in line and watching with a growing, gnawing feeling in your stomach as he climbed the ranks. Each shot perfect, his want for blood seeming to mellow out with his need to win.

Revenant becomes the champion that round, and you hear very quickly from mutters of other legends that he’s refused to do interviews and let his squad handle that part.

It’s not a surprise to you when a hand snatches you and yanks you into the hall as you quickly speed walk to your bedroom. You yelp, regardless, as you’re dragged to someone else’s bedroom.

Revenant’s chest almost hums with his voice box rattling his inner systems with his dark laughter. He doesn’t even make it to the bed with you, slamming you to the door, a hand around your throat and his leg thrust between yours. You make a choked sound, face flushed, and your heart absolutely pounding in your chest.

There’s only a brief moment where he leans into you, growling in your ear, “You did mean what you said, yes? I’d hate to have your screams be of pain.” It’s...almost sweet the way he’s asking for consent- even if it’s quiet. It could sound like a threat, but you understand his quick hesitation. You weren’t-- you’d never been beneath him.

Your quick nodding doesn’t shake him into believing you, he hisses under his breath for you to say it so he can hear you and you quickly chirp like an eager bird, “Yes! Yes- yes, a bet is a bet- have me. Any way you want. S-same safe word I use for you if it’s too much.”

The process from there isn’t slow. You knew Revenant wouldn’t be one to take his time if he had you in his clutches, and only proven to you when in no time you’re being stripped. It’s a bit of a blur, the first few moments. Your brain tries to wrap around it and make sense of it. Metal fingers cruelly squeezing your chest and toying with your nipples, a hand yanking your hair and forcing your head back so you couldn’t watch, the sharpness of metal teeth at your throat- the desperation of yanking your clothing off.

You’re naked before you realize it, back against a soft bed rather than a wall. He’s fit between your legs, hovering over you much like a starved spider, tracing his fingers up your inner thighs and making you quiver from the sensation.

His laugh is fitting for the situation, low and dark and sending shivers up your spine, “Always giving punishment to me,” He begins, his voice deep and resonating throughout his chest with the reverberations of his voice box. “That’s what you call it, isn’t it? And yet, who knew you were punishing yourself...” His voice trails off, his palm resting atop your mound so his thumb can trace from your hole, up through your lower lips to your clit.

The sensation is beyond anything you’ve felt. Though Revenant’s digits are metal and ribbed to allow joint control, they don’t feel sharp nor like they’ll catch. A unique texture experience. You can’t help it when your hips lift up, a sharp exhale leaving your nose as he circles your clit.

Fuck, did he find lube somewhere or were you just this wet?

“Rev-” You start shakily, feeling two of his fingers tracing down through your slick and to your hole. One presses in, almost like a ribbed toy is the way you’d describe it. Your thigh muscle twitches as you resist clamping your legs down on his arm, instead resting a hand in your own hair to ground yourself as you whine.

“If only you let me do this sooner,” He murmurs as his finger presses deep inside of you- fuck it was long- curling just right and testing the waters before fitting a second inside of you. “Could have found what a little, needy bitch you were a lot sooner.”

You would kick him if he wasn’t right. Revenant’s pumping his wrist now, fucking you thoroughly with his two fingers, rendering you ineffective. You knew he wasn’t much for foreplay, but even you’re thankful he’s prepping you. You bite back a sound when a third finger is introduced, his thumb stroking your clit in time and making your inner walls contract in time with the way you sob out a swear.

In no time, his fingers move from you, wiped on your inner thigh unceremoniously. Bastard. But, he introduces your favorite part.

His cock attachment today was something you had picked out. It matched his plating appropriately, a black coloring with deep amber nodes framing the sides and glowing much like his eyes. It was thick, maybe about as thick as your wrist and seven inches long. The ribbed sensation on it made it uniquely shaped with a rounded head leaking the light red coloring of his lubricant reserves.

You throw an arm over your eyes and turn your head as one of his hands grabs your hip tightly, the other guiding his cock inside of you. You bite your bottom lip when Revenant growls, pushing inside of you in near one go with the help of stretching you and how his lubrication helped with the slide.

Your toes curl, pressing your heels into the backs of his leg’s plating, already feeling on edge. “Rev-” You start once more, your voice shaking as you lose focus.

A yank of your arm makes you whine, trying to tug it back, but his hand snatches your jaw and forces your head towards him. “Look into my eyes when I fuck you raw. Remember who you belong to.” He snarls, your eyes fluttering open near on command and meeting deep amber optics. They swirl hypnotically, a hint he’s recording this for his own database. Bastard.

But, you can’t find it in you to care. Letting him hold your jaw to keep you there, his thumb tracing your lower lip as his hips slam into you again and again. He’s always sensitive, he won’t last very long, and you were already on edge.

His pleasure is expressed through huffs and growls, his voice box mimicking a moan only to branch off into something static-filled as if losing connection on the phone. Choppy, echoing, and yet his optics never leave your half lidded eyes. Your lips are parted to express your own pleasures, eyes fluttering and near rolling back into your head as his hips slam into yours again and again. It’d bruise you, that much you knew, but you can’t find it in you to tell him to be gentler.

“Reven- Rev—cu-cumming, don’t stopdon’tstop-” Your voice shakes, edging off into a wail as you start to cum with jerks of your hips. His groan is music to your ears, a low sound reverberating in his chest as his back hunches inwards, looking ever so much like a spider as his hand slips from your jaw to wrap around your throat. He’s cumming with you, his cock jerking and emptying at least half his reserve in you.

You’re panting, dizzy and euphoric. A soft laugh leaves you, gently nudging at his chest, “Should- should have let you top earlier, huh?” You laugh playfully, breathy and unfocused.

“Who said I was done with you, little thing?” He snarls back at you, shoving you right back down onto the bed and crossing an arm over your upper chest to keep you down.

Revenant intended to milk out his winning. All night if he needed.

He intended to make you scream loud enough for the whole compound to know appropriately what this ‘thing’ was between you two.

That you were his.