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#i feel firey like i have anger without the hateful piece of it
trainwreckweather · 2 years
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I want to experience life SO BADLY
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darlingsdevil · 4 years
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The Setting Sun (Arthur Morgan x Reader)
I sincerely apologize again, I cannot add a read more tab on mobile.
Summary: Your marriage with Arthur isn’t going too smoothly.
F!Reader
Masterlist
Warnings: Swearing, verbally abusive relationship, degrading terminology pertaining to women, violence.
Words: 3.6k
A/N: Sorry for the angst.. I guess? This will be a two part fic.
Slight spoilers
•••
You had heard the whispers around camp as your marriage fell apart. The women slyly mumbled about your fighting, and how they were sure you didn’t sleep in the same bed as him anymore. The men were more open about their observations and their rumors, especially Micah who nearly begged you to take his hand in marriage the second you called it quits with Arthur. Both the men and the women grumbling in the morning when your fighting seeped into the late hours of the night. But it wasn’t either of their talk that drove you mad, it was the disapproving look from Dutch. He looked at you like you had failed his son, which you had.
You were hot headed and Arthur was spiraling down a path of rage. The way he looked at you these days were cold, filled with anger, even when you weren’t fighting. Arthur looked sick at even the sight of you, like you were a monster in his bed. Arthur was met with cold glares and disapproving eyes when not fighting.
It was awful, nearly every night tears fell from your eyes when you decided to cool off by the river while Arthur got to sleep in his tent, scribbling away at that stupid journal. Your face hot, voice scratchy from screaming.
Hosea had asked you once if you would like to leave for a month or two and come back, once the dust had settled between you two, and your marriage could be repaired from the little threads that were still holding it together. You decided if it became that bad, you would, but you wouldn’t let Arthur run you out of your home that easily. Perhaps it had gotten ‘too bad’ too long ago. You had been in the gang nearly just as long as he had been and you grew up together.
Arthur hated fighting with you, he could tell your jabs at each other were pent up emotions from long ago. But when things got firey, and the truth was spewed from eachother, you felt the riff grow larger and larger between you. You didn’t like fighting, neither did he, but something in your blood got hot and your eyes blinded by rage, the moment your husband said anything. He was the same, like everything he said would come out ten times worse than he meant it, like he couldn’t control himself from letting every mean thing he thought of, come from his mouth. Every jab, every screaming match, every fight tore you from him.
You tried your best to remember every good moment with him, how he used to make you feel. How you felt when he would catch you staring or the first time he kissed you, blushing faces and shy glances. But the worst moments with him stuck in your mind even when you weren’t upset with him. It felt like the bad was outweighing the good. Bad memories clouding your mind, covering the good ones.
Arthur left for jobs more frequently, taking the longest ones so he wouldn’t have to see you. Arthur was so sick of fighting, he had to get away.
Apologies were never frequent. He rarely ever slept besides you, that had long since been out of the question. You were like a stranger in his bed, nothing more than a common whore he could use whenever he wanted, nothing like the sweet Arthur who would be so gentle with you, slow touches like he was afraid that you would break.
Your marriage was falling apart, and you were both the culprits. You barely felt anything for him besides anger, your pride refusing to allow yourself to miss him. But deep down, your heart ached every time you let him walk away, let him turn his back on you. Where did it all go wrong?
It started with simple bickering, turned into infrequent fights, and then arguments that left you sobbing and dizzy, his words repeating in your brain, over and over until that’s all you could think about.
One afternoon, when Arthur had been gone for days, you found a letter in Arthur’s trunk. You were looking for an old skirt to make into a blanket, the Heartlands air was unforgiving at night and without Arthur’s body heat next to you, you were frozen.
You noticed how the envelope was already opened, gingerly, not with a letter opener or even torn. You weren’t going to look inside, you weren’t that nosy, but the name on the outside left you pondering.
Mary Linton
Judging by how carefully Arthur had opened the letter, the letter stuck out to you. Something wasn’t right. While Arthur’s absence was not uncommon, you were perplexed by the name. Why did it stand out?
Until it finally hit you, your heart dropped to your stomach. You felt sick. Mary Linton was Mary Gillis, Arthur’s ex fiancé. He had convinced you years ago she was nothing to worry about. You were about to examine the contents when you felt someone behind you.
Arthur snatched the letter from your hands, glaring at you. His eyes shot daggers right through you.
“What the fuck is that, Arthur?” You asked accusingly.
“It’s none of your goddamn business,” Arthur growled in response. He held the letter behind him, guarding it like it was something precious.
“Why did that whore send you a letter?” You couldn’t control the words coming out of your mouth. Anger rose in you at the disrespect.
“Don’t look through my things again,” Arthur turned away, ready to walk off.
“Nope. You don’t get to walk away, tell me what that woman wants from you,” You yelled at him, Arthur swiveled around, his entire face enraged.
“What the hell are accusing me of?”
“I don’t know. What’s it sound like?” You spat back at him, crossing your arms in a defiant stance.
“You’re accusing me of cheating on you?” Arthur scoffed.
“I’m sure you’ve done a hell of a lot worse while you were with me,” You shot back. It was verbal war, and you were both stuck in the crossfire.
“Shut your mouth, woman. You’re walking on thin ice,” Arthur said in a low voice, inching closer to you.
“I might as well dance then. Don’t tell me to shut my fucking mouth, tell that slut to shut her fucking legs.”
Arthur’s nose twitched, he didn’t care about holding back. He would already regret saying something bad.
“You really think I’m banging Mary?”
You were silent, glaring at him. You looked at him like he was the most vile thing on the planet.
“Well then you’re dumber than I expected. Maybe if you had snooped around my stuff before I got back you would have been able to read it,” Arthur held the letter, waving it in front of you.
“I fucking hate you,” Your voice rose, anger building up in you like it was the only thing you could ever feel again.
Arthur nodded, turning away from you, “Like I don’t already know that.”
Hot tears began trailing down your face, as you covered your mouth. You didn’t mean to say that. Your heart beat rushed in your ears. Everything felt awful, Arthur started walking away from you.
“Don’t walk away, you smug bastard!” Your voice cracked, like you were begging him to turn around and tell you everything was alright. You felt your knees almost give out, everything felt dizzy as the blood rushed to your head. Your chest heaved with sobs, your legs giving out as you fell to the ground with a thud.
Arthur continued walking away, he couldn’t handle the shouting, he couldn’t handle the pain. It was suffocating. He held his chin high, as he felt the ground underneath him. Arthur’s emotions were bubbling underneath him, he so desperately wanted to turn around and ask to stop the fighting, the pain, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t let himself.
“I never want to see you ever again!” You shouted as your heart completely shattered into a thousand pieces. You leaned against his trunk, sobs racking through your body, pain erupting through your entire body.
Arthur didn’t turn around, not even to look around at your ruined state at the foot of his bed.
You had to get out of this camp, away from this gang. The members of the camp already began their gossip, a few sneaking glances at you. Their gossip was loud, bouncing off your skull, every rumor suffocating you.
You stood up quickly, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, their judging eyes piercing through you. You rummaged through your things from Arthur’s tent, grabbing only your essential items. You took the blanket off of his bed and made a makeshift sack out of it, tying all your things in it. You took one last look at your family, they might not even be here when you left but that was a chance you were willing to take. You were willing to go it alone for awhile if it meant things would cool down.
You rushed to your mare, you hopped on her and stormed away, through the thicket. You heard someone shout your name but you didn’t look back, leaving behind everything you had ever known.
The sun was beginning to set in the western sky, so you rode towards it, feeling like you were untouchable yet breakable all at the same time. Like a pound of bricks couldn’t hurt you, but a light feather could easily. You were like a bomb, one wrong move and everything could come shattering down.
The cool air was freeing, you only slowed for your horse to breathe, though she adored the run. When you began thinking clearer, it had been too far to turn back. It was completely dark out now, it would be foolish to continue riding.
You found a nice spot on a cliff's edge, hidden by a thicket of trees. It was your home for the night, not perfect but it would do. You unrolled your blanket and set it down on the stone. The cliff overlooked all of the Heartlands it seemed. The sky was a brilliant blue, with speckles of diamonds sewn in, weaved throughout.
Arthur was likely looking at the same sky, you wondered if he was thinking of the same things. You wondered if he was looking for you, waiting for you to come home to him.
You loved Arthur, you did, you loved him since the day you met him. You didn’t want to fight with him, ever.
Maybe you would’ve warned the young girl you once were if you had gotten the chance, but there was no turning back now.
Surprisingly, the night brought you peace, a stark contrast to the heat that burned you during the day.
You wondered if this was the final straw with Arthur, if you had fucked things up too badly. Mary Linton was no rival, you knew Arthur would never do such a thing. It hurt to remember what you said to him, to the man you loved so dearly. Vicious words cutting so deep, that you were even surprised they had come from your mouth.
You were both to blame. Your hearts no longer beating in sync, a riff in between you. A stranger in your own bed.
“I never want to see you ever again!”
The last thing you said to him. You hadn’t even meant it. You wondered if the universe would play some cruel trick on you for saying such an awful thing.
Sleep came rather peacefully, drifting away while you thought of everything you should have done differently.
The night sky twinkled, Arthur stared at it from the edge of his bed. Regretting his actions during the day, he couldn’t sleep. If only he had just told you that Mary needed his help, instead of hiding it. No one knew where you went and he was worried sick. Arthur wondered if this was it, after all the verbal cyanide, the brutal end to a sad story.
He hoped it wasn’t.
•••
Three weeks passed, since you had taken a break from the gang. A well needed break, that was for sure. You no longer hated the thought of Arthur, instead you missed him, wondering how you could be so blind. You craved Arthur’s touch, for him to hold you, for the first time in what felt like years.
When you would return, you would apologize for everything that you had done, you would make it up to him. Everything would go back to normal.
No one bothered you as you lived off the land, you had been to Valentine only once. You prayed no one would be in town while you were there, luckily no one was. You had even gone as far as to scope out Horeshoe Overlook, it was still thriving, you could see almost everyone through your binoculars. You even caught a glimpse of Arthur, he tried to hide his distress but you could tell something was troubling him. Arthur was talking with Dutch, Dutch looking nearly as distressed as him. After a few moments, you decided to leave before anyone came snooping around.
That was a week ago, you were going to return to camp in a day. Uneasiness grew on you throughout the night, you wondered if Arthur would ever take you back.
At night, you watched the sky again, it was clear again, not a cloud in all of it’s endlessness. You ate your supper for the last time in your small home, it had become rather nice. You bought a tent from Valentine and even found some books to go along with it.
Your expedition into the wilderness left you with a lot of time to think, but tonight your mind wouldn’t muster a single thought. Like all your thoughts had suddenly vanished.
Sleep didn’t come quite as easily, your body not allowing yourself to drift into the realm of sleep. Though your body felt heavy with worry, you felt nearly weightlessness, like you were drifting on a cloud, above everything.
As you stared into the black sky, you heard a snap behind you. You immediately reached for your gun, on high alert. Your fingers trailing over the trigger. Anyone who dared mess with you would get a face full of lead.
Another crunch. This was no animal, animals were not that quiet.
“Who’s there?” You called out, your voice rising above the trees.
A third snap, you turned immediately to where you heard it, aiming your gun towards the thicket.
A man with a wolfish grin stepped out, looking at you like you were a piece of meat.
“What’s a little lady like yourself doing out here all alone?” The man inched closer to you, taking slow steps. The shadows casted on the man, making him look unnatural, almost like a monster.
“Another step and I’ll blow your fucking head off,” You barked, aiming your gun at his head.
A second man stepped out from behind you, you swiveled around to face him, the first man pulled out his own gun and aimed it at the back of your head, you felt the cool metal on your head. You narrowed your eyes at the second man, your veins growing hot.
You thought for a moment, weighing your options.
Almost instantly, you elbowed the man behind you, knocking his gun out of his hand, before the second man could react, you shot him in the face, he fell to the ground in a gorey mess.
“Oh, you little bitch!” The first man shouted, delirious and enraged. He tackled you, right as you were turning to face him. The man pinned you to the forest floor, your mind was being taken over by the survival instinct. He punched you directly in the face, the force of it making you see stars, you kicked out your legs, staggering him for a moment so you could throw a punch, right in the nose, his nose cracked underneath your knuckles. The man fell off of you, his nose spewing blood, the bone in a crooked shape.
He cradled his nose with one hand, the other scrambling for his gun that had been knocked out of his hand. Your mind was fuzzy, you got up as quickly as you could, your face aching.
The man reached for his gun, you aimed your own, on the ground he aimed at you and fired. You fired your own gun, both bullets seemingly moving in slow motion as they passed each other. The gunshot was loud, nearly deafening. The man was dead, the bullet went straight through his head.
You almost didn’t feel the bullet until seconds later. Pain erupted in your abdomen, you felt the slick blood pool out of you, darkening your blouse.
The bullet tore through your flesh with every step you took, you rushed to your horse, wincing. Blood got all over her silky coat, like an abstract painting. You set off back to camp, through the forest and deserts of the Heartlands.
Pain continued to develop in your stomach, your mind started going fuzzy. The air whipped around you, as you rode hard back to camp. Every jolt shot pain in your stomach. The only thing you could think about was reaching camp, being home finally.
Black spots began clouding your vision, the terrain slowly becoming more and more familiar. You felt weak, like all your limbs were ten times heavier. Blood continued to pool out of you, a slow, but steady stream.
You leaned against your mare’s head, your own head too heavy to keep up. She was a pretty horse, strong and loyal.
Why had you been so foolish to leave camp? Why had you been so foolish to be horrible to Arthur? Where did it all go wrong?
You regretted a thousand things it seemed. A thousand things you would never get to see, it seemed. Repairing your marriage with Arthur, owning a small farm with him when things cooled down, having a little girl and a little boy that looked just like him, growing old with Arthur, simple things. You would miss it all.
You could barely see now, your mind slowly going blank. Your limbs no longer feeling attached to your body. You could just barely make out Horseshoe Overlook in front of you, the lights dim and shapeless.
This was death, it seemed so distant and so close all at the same time. Peaceful and painful. You let your eyes close for the final time, just as you reached the outskirts of the camp.
You slowly slipped off your horse, into the grassy ground.
This was death. You had gotten your wish.
•••
Arthur heard a scream from the other side of camp, immediately shooting up from his bed. It sounded like one of the women. The other men came rushing to that side of camp, Arthur grabbing his own gun and dragging himself out of bed.
A large group gathered by something on the ground, it was silent, no one saying anything. The entire group turned to Arthur, splitting to make a path for him.
You were on the ground, bloody, and lifeless. Arthur’s eyes widened as he kneeled next to you. He could barely believe what he was seeing.
“No, no, no, no. Wake up, come on darlin’, wake up,” Arthur shook his head, grabbing your limp hand. At first, he was sure you would wake up.
“God damnit, wake up,” Arthur said louder, shaking you. Anger, grief and disbelief in his voice.
“She’s not waking up, Arthur,” Susan said from behind him, her voice breaking. He heard sobs from behind him, someone put a hand on his shoulder.
It was silent, everyone holding their breath. They watched him with intent, making sure he would not crack. The crickets chirped in the distant, the air from his lungs being sucked out.
Everything cruel he had ever said to you, everytime he had ever convinced himself he hated you, flooded his mind. Everything he did wrong, everything that went wrong.
Arthur brushed the hair from your face, holding back his tears. The crowd dispersed from behind him, leaving him alone with you. He covered his mouth to stop the sobs that would escape his mouth otherwise.
The anger and sadness that ripped through him, a sudden pit in his stomach that would never go away from now until he died. His entire world had been knocked out of place, thrown off track.
His chest heaved with pain. He was never able to make it right with you, and that would live with him forever. Knowing you died thinking he hated you, it was unbearable.
“You weren’t supposed to go like this,” Arthur whispered to you, he lightly held your face like you were fragile.
Arthur slowly picked you up, holding your cold body in his strong arms.
“We were supposed to make up, get out of this life, have a few kids, run a little farm,” Arthur poured his heart out to you, carrying you to the outskirts of camp. The patrons of camp bowed their heads as he passed them, a silent goodbye.
“I’m so sorry,” Arthur said to you, clutching you close to him, his hands shaking. Blood getting all over his clothes, staining them, even when the blood went away he still could smell the stench of blood on them. A forever mark on his soul.
Arthur buried you that night, on a little hill surrounded with flowers, overlooking the setting sun. A part of him died with you. He would remember the last words you had ever said to him, and how he had simply walked away.
Arthur never forgave himself.
•••
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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years
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Shining Star | Part Two
[Axl Rose x OC]
Words: 3.1k
Warning(s): Explicit language, mentions of suicide
Tag list: @teller258316 @reigns420 @xpoisonousrosesx @oskea93 @blowinmeupwithherlove @redlipscrystalskies14 @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @sublimeprincesswasteland
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"Pretty as a picture." I say to myself, swiping lipstick across my lips in the bathroom mirror before I click the tube shut and make sure my hair looks good. 
My stomach churns at the thought of seeing Tommy...and Vince. 
I haven't spoken a word to Vince since he got Tami pregnant a year and a half ago, and I haven't spoken to Tommy since he leapt out of my bedroom window after 3 minutes of awkward sex. 
"Do you fuck all of your friends?" My mother's words come back to bite me in the ass as I groan out in frustration. 
The only plus to any of this is that I'll get to hang out with Viv. 
There. Viv. Just focus on Vivian. 
I leave the bathroom and glance around to see if I see any familiar faces. 
Nope. 
I pull the skirt of my dress down a little and rub my lips together, people passing left and right, looking either too drunk to be bothered or too busy. 
"Tansy?" I hear a confused voice and look straight ahead, seeing Vivian by the payphone. 
"Hey!" I reply excitedly, rushing to her as fast as I can, being careful not to trip over my feet adorned in red heels. 
Vivian Sixx—Kinston at that point—had a ballet scholarship to Juilliard, never missed a Sunday church service, and was one of those annoyingly gorgeous girls that genuinely thought they were ugly. She couldn't stand her red hair because she was teased in middle school and called "firecrotch," she hated her freckles and her height because she'd been compared to a giraffe--"tall as shit with brown spots"--and the fact her mom was a batshit crazy Jesus lunatic never helped matters…but that stuff was all in her head because after middle school, guys looked at her differently, Jesus-lover and all. She saw annoying traits, but most people saw legs a mile long, a unique hair color that stood out in the sea of bleach blonde, freckles that framed emerald green eyes, and a heart as kind and beautiful inside as she was on the outside. 
She's always said I was the most gorgeous woman she'd ever met, but she is, to me, the most stunning. 
She didn't have to try to get anybody's attention, she walked in a room and she had it--so much so that Matt Sorum called her "Fire Woman" after The Cult song because he claimed that's the first thing that came to mind when he first saw her walking back stage at his first gig with Guns N' Roses. "She could give me the fucking clap and I'd kiss her feet for it." He told me, his facial expression mimicking someone who'd been struck by lightening twice…
People always looked at her like that but she rarely noticed because she'd be too busy looking up at Nikki with utter hearts in her eyes, but we'll get into that later.
"What are you doing here?" She asks me curiously. 
"Vince called me and wanted me to come." I explain and she raises her brows. 
"Vince?" She asks and I nod. "The same Vince that cheated on you multiple times Freshman year? And your entire relationship?"
"It's been, what, four years?" I ask, in reference to how long it's been since he and I started dating. "Maybe he's grown up a little." I suggest and she just clears her throat, cueing the hollering of an angry girl.
"Fuck you! Piece of shit! Motherfucker!" She shouts, the sound of her hitting Vince gets louder and she stomps down the hall as he follows after her, continuously trying to get her attention by saying "babe" repeatedly. 
"My pants! Babe!" He's fully in sight now as she stomps off...and he's fully naked.
"Fuck you!" She calls back to him, leaving him behind. 
"I fucking love those pants." He whines, disappointed, cupping his dick. 
"Your swimsuit parts are out." Vivian tells him, and he and I make contact over her shoulder, my nerves tensing up anxiously as he looks at me with a grin. 
"Hey, Tans." He says to me, about to come closer but Vivian stops him. 
"Go put some clothes on." She orders to him and he rolls his eyes, turning and walking away, his butt shining as he leaves. "You had sex with that." She reminds me and I frown slightly. 
"Yeah, he hasn't changed a bit has he?" I ask her and she shakes her head a little. 
"He's gotten worse." She states. "Alright, c'mon, let's go see Tommy." She takes my hand and leads me to where he is, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. 
How awkward is this going to be? 
We turn the corner and see him and two other guys standing in their street clothes, and when Tommy sees me, all my nerves dissipate because he completely makes me forget our awkward sex never even happened. 
"Tansy fucking Reilen!" He exclaims excitedly as I walk to him to hug him. 
He leans down to reach my 5'3" height and wraps his arms tightly around me. 
"Hey, Tommy!" I reply, just as happy. 
This is the first time he, Vivian, and I, will be hanging out together...Viv's been having to hangout with us separately because we've been avoiding each other for the most part. I guess we don't have to, anymore. 
He releases me, immediately turning to the ball of teased, jet black hair. 
"This is Nikki," he informs me, "the band's bassist." 
Hazel eyes--nearly green--look down at me behind his hair, traveling down my face, to my chest, down my legs, and back up again, the tiniest, mischievous smirk on his lips, and I raise my brow a tiny bit…
Trouble. Trouble. Trouble. Trouble. Is exactly what Nikki was, and it was all he and I could get ourselves into for years to follow.
"And this is Tansy." Tommy tells Nikki, oblivious to how he's looking at me.
"Nice to meet you." I tell Nikki. 
"Yeah." He replies. 
"And Mick, our guitarist." Tommy says next, nodding to the shorter man who's also got jet black hair. 
"Hi." I say to him. 
He just gives a small smile and mumbles, "hey."
"He's a little quiet but when you get to know him he opens up." Tommy says to me, quietly as Vince reappears with clothes on. "We were about to head to the rainbow," he starts next, his eyes flickering to Viv. "If someone's willing to stay out late." 
"Fine." Vivian doesn't argue, sighing out. 
"Hallelujah. Thank fuckin' God." Vince pipes, sliding his arm around my shoulder, making me roll my eyes. 
The entire time to the Rainbow, Vivian and Nikki are constantly back and forth, tearing each other new assholes and going for each other's throats. I don't know what beef they have with each other but it's brutal and borderline sex fueled. 
Once we get to the bar and grill, I drag Viv to the bathroom with me so I can touch up my makeup. 
"So…" I start, looking in the mirror, "...have you lost your virginity yet?" 
"No." She says it as if she's slightly offended. 
"Oh." 
"Why?" 
"It's just…" I start but quickly decide that it'll just piss her off, probably. "Nothing." 
"Tansy." She sighs, irritated. "What is it?" 
"Nothing. I just thought you and that Nikki guy have messed around." I shrug and she looks like she's seen a ghost. 
"I—ew why would you think that? We haven't." She insists and I hold my hands up in surrender. 
"I'm sorry, I just thought you had." I tell her. 
"What makes you think we have?" 
"There's a tension." The words are framed by a smirk and she widens her eyes. 
"There is not a tension. There is so not a tension." She gets it out without laughing although I can tell she wants to. “We argue. All the time. He thinks I’m a self-righteous prude and I think he’s the spawn of Satan. If there’s a tension, it’s because we hate each other.”
"You don't have to like someone to have sex with them." I inform her, speaking from experience of the guys who've had sex with me without giving a damn, and me having sex with guys I didn't necessarily like just to make them happy. "I really like him for you, though. You get all riled up and firey when he's around." 
"Oh, please." She rolls her eyes. 
“I just met the guy and I can tell he has you acting different. You used to be so quiet and shy around people you don’t really know, now you’re jumping in to conversations just to piss him off and prove him wrong.”
“Because I don’t like him.” She shakes her head. “And he doesn’t like me. That’s where the tension comes from. See? It’s full-circle.”
"Hate-sex is always an option." I suggest. 
"Do not even start." She scolds me, pointing her finger. 
"What? It gets rid of all the aggression and ill feelings." I explain. 
“So does their shows. Did you know they encourage people to get their feelings out during a show so they go home chilled out and not so uptight?” she tells me and I look at her, not even the slightest bit convinced. “And it works.”
“Yeah, until he gets off stage and then you get all hot and bothered.” I reply with a grin. 
“I get hot because he’s Devil-Spawn and the heat from hell radiates off of him and I get bothered because he’s an arrogant idiot.”
“Or you like him and don’t know why you do so you displace your frustration and confusion on to him.” I shoot back. “I was honestly joking about the hate sex okay? I don’t want you to go jump in to bed with him if you don’t want to but you two were fighting like cats and dogs the whole time we were on our way here. I think you should try to let whatever kind of bravery he evokes in you come out in a way that’s not in the form of riled up anger or fiery hatred.” I recommend and she nods a little. “Now, c’mon because I have a slutty blonde waiting.”
That was the night Mötley Crüe was signed to Elektra records by rock-god signing Tom Zutat, who's responsible for record companies grasping ahold of a plethora of leather-patented hair metal douchebags that could make good music and snort their way through long enough power rails of coke that once they reach the end of white powder without flinching, China's on the other side. But you want to know a secret? It was all bullshit. Every person I've met in that rock scene, you know, the ones that despised the term "hair metal" yet teased their hair two feet above their heads and played heavy metal? Yeah, them. Every single one of them had this "I was made for this shit" attitude. 
Some of them nearly put bullets through their head, OD'd, hung themselves, turned their cars on and locked themselves in their garage...even the ones that hadn't purposely tried to take themselves out either almost pushed it too far and died accidentally from too much booze or drugs or vehicle accidents, or did push it too far. 
They weren't made for it. 
Nobody's fucking made for millions of people wanting a piece of them every single night, management running them to their grave for more money, dealers keeping them numb, all their relationships just exploding in their faces, all of their "friends" wanting more and more and more. 
They thought they were made for it because when someone gets a taste of what they decide the universe or God or whoever or whatever destined for them to become, they take it and run with it without reading the fine print. 
They see the fame without the lack of privacy and hangers-on. 
They see the fans without the people who hate their guts and make it known. 
They see the money without the gold diggers. 
They see the excess without the high risk that comes with taking advantage of having everything with the snap of their fingers. 
They see the glutton without the punishment. 
Until they're standing on the railing of the balcony of their Hollywood penthouse, their best friend trying to talk them down while the police are on their way. 
And then of course when they do turn up dead by suicide, people talk their typical, "how awful, they killed themselves in their mansion, surrounded by their expensive furniture, wearing their expensive clothes, with millions—possibly billions—in their bank account, how sad for them, boohoo." 
As someone who's been dirt broke, to the point of getting my water cut off and having to shower at a friend's house, but then growing up to have more money than I knew what to do with aside from blow it on drugs? Money doesn't buy happiness, jerkoffs. It can buy distractions to buffer pain and suffering, sure, but once the high wears off, or that new car loses its luster, or that new house starts to feel fucking empty, all while that wall full of awards and plaques and magazine posters cementing your fame and worth and stake in the industry you sold your soul for just reminds you that you don't even recognize who the hell you are anymore and nothing can change that...you get fucking depressed. Hate to say it. Hate to be the bearer of bad news, that even though you're poor as shit and are depressed as shit that even if you had money and fame you'd still be fucking sad. But I'd rather tell you the truth than sell you the fallacy that me and everybody else I was friends with bought, that landed every single one of us in situations where we felt we had no other way except to just off ourselves all while remembering when we were stupid enough to proudly say: "I was made for this." 
People are made for this like Matthew Trippe replaced Nikki Sixx, which—if you want the truth—is complete bullshit.
“He said we could possibly score a five album deal, Viv, why aren’t you happy about this? I thought you wanted us to get signed?” Tommy asks Vivian as she slings her keys across the guys' shitty living room, pissed beyond measure.
“You just told me you were dropping out of school, Tommy! We are so close to graduating, can’t you just wait?!” 
“No, I can’t! I can’t just wait because what I wanted is happening and I need to focus on the band right now more than ever!” He argues while motioning to Nikki and Vince, who, like me, are being smart and staying near the door incase we need to get out of sight once Vivian and Tommy kill each other.
“Your education should be your main focus, at least until you graduate! You are so close to being done, Tommy, why can’t you just—“
“Because I don’t give a fuck about school, Vivian! What I am passionate about doesn’t require a diploma, and I’m sorry if me dropping out makes you feel like I’m leaving you behind or whatever the fuck you feel, but I’m not sorry for wanting to focus on my main priority!”
“What I’m hearing is that I wasted hours of my time throughout school trying to tutor you and help you all for you to throw it away on the idea of being some hot-shot rockstar with girls and drugs and booze—”
“Oh, my God, you act like you would have had better things to do with that wasted time!” He sounds like he already knows he's gonna lose the argument while Vivian just rolls her jaw. “And it’s not a fucking idea, it’s fucking reality and you’re only mad because you have no control over it!”
“I’m mad because we talked about this and everything we agreed on, everything we promised each other, is absolute void to you now that it’s actually happening!” 
“Shit changes, Viv, people change! What I considered important junior year is completely different than what I consider important now.” He calms down, sighing. 
“We agreed we would both graduate high school and I could either put off college or drop out if I needed to...” she trails off, her voice shaking slightly with oncoming tears, making me feel bad for her. “That was our plan to avoid this from happening. To avoid you leaving me behind.” Now it's crystal clear why she's freaking out over them being offered a record deal. “You considered me important junior year when you came up with that plan. When you promised me you wouldn’t go on to bigger things without me and forget me. And now...” She takes a step back, while Tommy attempts to walk to her. 
“Viv, I didn’t mean it like that.” He tries to tell her. 
“No, you’re right.” she replies, her body shaking a little. “Shit changes.” I raise my brow because I've never heard her curse before. “People change.” She keeps on. “Glad this is happening now, though, so I don’t waste any more time on a completely different page than you, Tommy.” Her voice cracks a little and she grabs her keys quickly.
“Viv—“ Tommy tries to grab her arm as she heads to the door but she snatches away from him. “Fuck you.” she cracks, her voice barely coming out as tears spill over her  lashes. 
Nikki and Vince step aside to let her leave all while I contemplate following her, but if I know Vivian, I know she likes to think about things when she's upset, rather than just talk them out with someone. Which is the only time she likes to be alone. 
She just slams the door on us, and Tommy. 
Most definitely wouldn't be the last time she did that.
"Tommy, are you—"
"—I'm goin' home." He grumbles, grabbing his keys, and me and Nikki and Vince all look at each other. 
"Tommy, you are home?" Nikki reminds him. 
"I'm stayin' with my folks so I can vent to my sister because she's the only one who knows Viv good enough to know she's being fuckin' unreasonable." He states. 
"I barely know her and I can tell you she's unreasonable." Nikki scoffs, earning a glare. "Sorry, man." He mumbles in return. 
"Bye." Tommy says, closing the door behind him. 
"Well...I'm gonna go find a chick to fuck." Vince says, stretching.
"You got one right here." Nikki chuckles looking at me and I raise my brows. 
"Not since I knocked Tami up." Vince reads my mind and I nod. 
"Exactly." I reply. 
"Who?" Nikki asks. 
"Nobody. Don't wait up." He tells us, opening the door and leaving, too, more than likely heading to the strip club down the street. 
"So, like, how old are you?" Nikki asks. 
"Why?" 
He just gets a shit eating grin on his lips. 
22 notes · View notes
vamprnce · 5 years
Text
Gatboss Week Day 4: Loyalty
It went to Playa and Johnny to Boss and Johnny to Chris and Johnny. They were an odd pair that easily fit
here's day 4 I skipped before, it's really short so sorry also I didn't like how it came out so much but I wanted to post something anyways;;
[ao3]
It went to Playa and Johnny to Boss and Johnny to Chris and Johnny. They were an odd pair that easily fit, two psychopaths destroying everything in their way. Even Julius Little saw and regretted it.
Way in the beginning they didn't think much of each other, Playa didn't look much as Johnny said and thought. Playa thought Johnny was loud and annoying, he never said it though, well to his face at least.
After awhile they went on missions together to tear down the Vice King's, both of their opinions changed. Playa was a fucking wrecking ball, just coming into battle, some times alone, destroying everything and everyone in his path. Johnny, still annoying and loud -- that never changed, was badass and a crazy motherfucker. Playa loved it. They both fit together, it just worked. They eventually became fast friends, even best friends. Playa saving Johnny after he got his knee shot and he sacrificed himself and Johnny rescuing Playa after getting fucked up by some crazy Carnales and saving his live, they're bond was strong and solid, it just couldn't be tampered with.
Even when Playa went on that boat alone that night and getting blown up, suffering severe burns and long lasting effects of the trauma after, their friendship and loyalty never was questioned.
Johnny tried to avenge him, he got sent to jail and put on death row. Even after all of that he had hope for the kid, he never believed he died, that kid survived getting stabbed and having his throat sliced plus getting shot, shoved in a trunk and almost drowned while witnessing another lieutenant die right next to him. How could he possibly die from a boat explosion if he survived all of that?
His belief of the Saints coming back never wavered. He just knew.
Playa now Boss coming to rescue him from death row proved that, he was never surprised he would come. It's like he gained a sixth sense or something being friends with him, it was unnatural.
Taking the city back was a challenge, losing friends on the way and hit by grief ten times as strong. But Boss had Johnny's back and Johnny had Boss'. Losing Aisha was devastating and broke Johnny, but the love and care Boss shown for him after was something else, not only he took him to the hospital gunning down Ronin on the way he went out of way to hunt down the bastard to killed her. There was something in Johnny that he never felt before. Was it appreciation? No. Admiration? Maybe. There was loyalty, though. That never left. But, maybe, just maybe there was love.
Did he love the Boss, hell yeah, he's his best friend. Was he in love? That was something he couldn't figure out, he was delusional.
They had this certain bond, a bond that kept them strung together. Soulmates.
After taking over Stilwater, their love started bubbling, started exploding like police cars after a rocket launcher was shot at them. They're undying loyalty shifted, they started loving each other.
It went slow, months of pining and teasing, flirting and making questionable jokes about each other's feelings. Ones you ponder and analyzed over and over, wondering did they actually meant that? Then it crashed like a runaway train, flirting turned to touching, touching turned to kissing, kissing turned to sloppy make outs. It was good, fucking amazing actually. It felt right.
Reality crashed down and that runaway train turned into a firey blaze.
Johnny sacrificed himself for the Saints but more importantly for him, he gave away his life for him. He was devastated, heart shattered in a million pieces. His best friend was gone, his so called boyfriend, his soulmate, gone forever because he was selfless. He questioned why exactly he did that, why Johnny Gat deserve to die and not him. He knew he was loyal to him and the feelings were mutual but Johnny didn't deserve that, he deserved to be with him, alive with the Saints. Boss couldn't forgive himself after that, it was his fault. He ran away like a coward while his best friend took on enemies alone. Why should he not feel guilty, if he did something Johnny would be alive.
His grief turned into anger, depression and revenge. People will pay for his death, and they did. Even after all the bloodshed, he still felt empty, he was still alone and heartbroken. His lover and best friend was gone and couldn't do anything about it, he was completely helpless. He went absolutely crazy.
Years pasted but the feeling of emptiness never left his heart, being the president was an unfamiliar feeling to him. It was different, being the Boss all the years now people called him president. Johnny couldn't see this unbelievable achievement and he couldn't see him sitting in that big office. He felt alone still, it was permanent feeling in his bones. He hated it, dispised it.
He ended up getting a bust of him on his desk and a portrait that hanged across from him. It didn't make him too alone after.
The shit show of getting abducted along with the others was something he didn't see, even with Kinzie's warnings.
On the way saving his crew from their nightmares, the possibility on Johnny being alive surfaced, and he clinged desperately to that thought like if he let go of it it'll disappear in to dust. Even with everyone's voices saying he's dead and he shouldn't rescue him, he ignored them. He knew they were wrong, he knew it in his heart. Johnny is alive and he promises to walk through hell to get him back, no matter what.
And he did, he walked in that simulation where Johnny was stuck repeating year after year, possibly going insane. And walked beside him, fighting virtual fakes of the Vk's and Ronin, and even "saving" Aisha at the end. But really at the end he saved Johnny. He couldn't believe it still, the butterflies in his stomach and his heart skipping a beat seeing Johnny in the flesh -- and in the nude.
He is here and he is alive.
Boss had no words, years being alone without him wishing he would return to him and he finally did. Boss was ecstatic. All he wanted to do was hold him tight to never have him leave again and kiss him. Just to touch him all over and try to convince himself he is real and alive.
After awhile, lost feelings bubbled over, anxiety filled his body. He wanted to tell Johnny everything that happened over the years, so much shit he missed. He wanted to talk about the past and all its glory. But importantly he wanted to tell him his feelings, his deep and genuine emotions, ones he held inside what feels like forever eating his insides. He felt like he wasn't able to have the privilege to do it.
He walked up to Johnny, whole body a wreck with so many emotions running through him at once. Next thing Johnny knew Boss just spilled his guts to him, he was surprised but at the same time he wasn't. He knew how he felt even before everything but they didn't have much time to explore it. He was surprised that Boss was open to say all of it, he was so proud of him. His love and adoration soared, heart basically bursting and every feeling flooding him at the same time.
Johnny didn't hesitate, he went in and sealed his lips over Chris' in an instant, hungry for waiting. Desperate to touch and kiss him all over him.
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yanjuniverse · 6 years
Text
Make This Feel Like Home - Wang Linkai
*this imagine depicts mentions of depression and destructive behavior.*
[a/n: ANOTHER linkai imagine you may ask? why yes. yes it is. inspired by this picture and the song Home by One Direction. CREDITS TO THE OP]
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“Xiao Gui,” you peak your head around the corner of and see him sitting in a chair, chowing down on a tub of ice cream while staring at the view. “What are you doing, silly? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Chillin’,” he nods before scooping up another spoonful of ice cream. “Want some?” You shake your head and scrunch up your nose. “Suit yourself. More for me then.” He happily pops the spoon back into his mouth and looks out at the view. “Come sit with me,” he smiles up at you. “It’s so beautiful out.”
“I’ll go grab a chair.”
“Nonsense,” he chuckles, pulling you down into your lap and locking his arms around you. “There. Even better than any chair,” he hums. You look down at him to see him absolutely beaming. “Told you not to be shy around me. We’ve been together too long for that.”
“Why are you in such a good mood today?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair. He shuts his eyes as he throws his head back, basking in the comfort you give him.
“It’s just...been a while since I just got to sit around and do nothing,” he explains, eating another scoop of ice cream. “S’nice,” the words slurred as he tries his best to melt more of the creamy dessert in his mouth. “Nobody yelling at me to get dressed and go somewhere. I haven’t even showered yet and it’s already,” he takes a glance at his watch, “eleven in the morning!”
“Linkai,” you smack his chest.
“I’ll go once I finish my ice cream,” he tells you, taking another bite. You look out at the scenery before you. There was a long, green grass and flowers. Butterflies fluttered aimlessly across the way. “You know,” he smacks his lips together, “it’s times like this where I’m glad that I didn’t do anything stupid when I was younger.” He whispers as the sun rays start to gently kiss his cheeks through the gaps of wood over the roof. “Everything is so beautiful, man. Do you think thirteen year old me would laugh if I told him nineteen year old him was making thousands on a song about unicorns?”
“I think you’ve had enough sugar,” you tease, trying to take the pint away.
“Hey! Paws off!” he whines, snapping his teeth together. You roll your eyes and continue to look at him. “Do you know what I want to do? Like, something I’ve always wanted to do for no reason at all?”
“What?”
“Go fishing.” His face is stone cold serious.
“Go fishing?” you repeat.
He nods. “You in the beginning of the Pixar movies where they have the little boy on the moon with a fishing rod? I have no idea why but it made me always want to try fishing one day. So I told Yanchen-ge about it and he gave me this cool ass bucket hat and a can of worms before we left.”
“We drove here with a can of worms in our car?” you cringe.
“Not just anywhere! Under your seat!” he laughs. You only rub your temples and shake your head, sighing at him. “Jie-ge said that he has a few fishing rods hidden in the shack behind this cabin. If you want, I’m going to the dock in a bit to see if I can catch something.”
His eyes are gleaming as he talks. They haven’t stopped since you got to Xingjie and Yanchen’s cabin in the middle of nowhere. Linkai was just so happy that he gets to spend a week alone with you. But to have a week alone with you in such a beautiful place? His eyes haven’t stopped sparkling since you guys pulled up.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll come,” you say.
“Best vacation ever,” he grins, kissing you on the cheek. He pats your thigh, signaling you to stand up. He follows close behind, placing his half empty pint on the railing. He stretches his back and shakes his hair. “Do I really seem silly to you?” he asks as you two travel back into the cabin.
“You’re just...really happy,” you explain.
“Would you like me to be angsty and sad?” he raises his eyebrows as he opens the freezer. You shake your head at him. “Don’t eat my ice cream, okay? I don’t get to eat it a lot during promotions and I want some after dinner.”
“Who said I want any of your nasty ice cream?” you cross your arms.
“Rocky road is not nasty. You’re nasty,” he sticks his tongue out like a child. You roll your eyes at him once again as he shuts the freezer. He turns back to you and starts towards the bedroom. “Jie-ge was right,” he says, staring at the messy bed.
“Right about what?” you plop down on the sheets.
Linkai falls on top of you, pressing an obnoxious kiss to your kiss. He hovers about you, eyes still shining brightly. “This really is a place to fall in love at,” he whispers, searching your eyes for a second. After a moment, he pushes himself up from you and grabs his towel. “Lay there and look pretty. I will be right back. Don’t go falling in love with anyone else while I’m gone. Got it?”
“Got it chief,” you salute him.
God, you want to say. You want to ask Linkai if he’s even aware of how etheral he is. His entire being an enigma of emotions. You want to ask if he was lost. That stardust like his is too bright for this dim world.
Wang Linkai, I’m so proud of you, you want to tell him. But you’re partly sure he knows because everytime you start to say it, he’ll cut you off with a kiss.
He’s come so far. You used to think that maybe, he was sad because he was lost. He wasn’t where he was supposed to be as he aimlessly went through the motions, day in, day out. But you still remember that one night when the two of you were fifteen.
Fifteen, running around in the streets, young and wild and free. Linkai pulled you under a street lamp and told you that he feels at home when he’s with you. That you made this, whatever this was, feel like home. And he tells you that it’s not good to make homes out of people - that those are the kinds of homes to go down in flames the easiest. But he didn’t care. He would salvage you from the wreckage and write his name with the ashes as he built a new foundation.
And the thing is, Linkai felt the need to take care of you before he felt the need to take care of himself. He never realized that maybe you were a mirror of him but the more he built you up, the more he built himself up without even realizing. He made two homes into one the first time he ever kissed you. Since then, it’s been you and Linkai against the world.
You were there for it all - his rise to fame, his big break, his break down, his revival.
“I have so much living to do,” he tells you one night, tears staining his porcelain skin. “I don’t - I don’t wanna go. Not yet. Not when you’re still here.”
You weren’t a cure, you wanted to tell him. But he didn’t think of you as one. He thought of you as the catalyst - that if there was one person he would get better for, it would be you.
He stops his underage drinking by eighteen, throws his pack of cigarettes down the toilet and screams no more! to himself. Because not only does he have so much living to do, but you do too. And he built his home around you, brick by brick. He’ll be damned if he burns the one person who held him in his firey anger.
So he breaks the foundation under his own feet and builds his side of the house back up. He’s still not sure how to put some things together but he’ll learn. He’ll watch Xingjie and Yanchen, the two strongest homes he’s ever stepped foot in. He’ll see the way they pave their paths of life and he’ll hold on for dear life even when the ground seems to want to swallow him whole.
Then there’s Yankai. His not-so-little little brother. Yankai who is still building his home out of sticks and stone. He’ll teach him a structure or two. He’ll show him where he went wrong. He’ll guide him the same way Yanchen and Xingjie did for him.
And then there’s you. You, who has grown up so much since the first time you two met at twelve. The one who kept his head above water when his tears seemed to flood his room. The one who taught him how to plug up the holes in his row boat. The one he would rebuild for again and again and again.
He fell for you a little before he turned sixteen and when he kissed you for the first time, he realized how easily your bodies fell into each other. They were like puzzel pieces. He held on to you that night and never let go.
As Linkai exists the bathroom, singing along to some Kendrick Lamar song, bouncing around, you can’t help but feel so grateful.
“Thirteen year old you would definitely laugh if he could see this now,” you comment as he combs his hair back, still rapping along. You wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head against his back. “But if thirteen year old you could see you now, I think he would be in shock.”
“By my hair?” he asks as he shoves the bucket hat on his head.
“By you in general,” you reply.
Linkai looks at himself in the mirror. He still remembers all the nights he used to scream at himself until his throat was raw. He remembers how he hated to see his reflection.
“No more,” he whispers to himself, grinning. “If I’m not okay today, I will be one day.” Linkai detatches himself from you and spins around, tugging you along as he exists the room. “Come on! Those fish aren’t going to catch themselves!”
So you guys spend your entire afternoon there, on the dock, feet in the water, screaming along to whatever song came on shuffle. You make a comment that maybe the reason why the two of you haven’t caught a fish yet is because the music scaring them off.
“Nonsense!” he cheers before putting on The Little Mermaid soundtrack. You double over in laughter at the boy who tries his best at a Carabean accent, singing along once more.
“This is boring,” he says at one point, pulling down on the bucket hat. “I kind of want to go and see if there are even fish in there. I feel like Jie-ge was punking me out.”
“Then go check!” you laugh before pushing him in.
His body splashes into the lake. When he resurfaces, he whines about how you got his hat wet before grabbing your leg and tugging you in with him.
You guys spend an hour or so in the water before heading back home to shower and prepare dinner.
He’s singing along to the song still. You take a note that they’re not sad songs anymore. He’s jumping around to Migos, singing into the spatula in his hands and so full of life.
God Linkai, do you even know how far you’ve come?
The two of you eat your supper that was prepared all by him. It’s a stir fry and he pushes some of his meat onto your plate. “Eat a lot,” he tells you. “I still need room for my ice cream.” You roll your eyes at that.
When dinner is over, he pulls his treat from the freezer and watches you wash the dishes.
“I wish I could come home more often,” he says as you scrub the dishes. “I miss it. I miss you.”
When the dishes are finally finished, Linkai pulls you onto the couch with him and spoon feeds you his treat, smiling as you tell him random stories that pop into your head. When he finishes the tub, he places it to the side and sighs happily.
“Remember when I used to cry,” he says, eyes heavy with sleep. “You’d always bring me that ice cream when I was sad.” You play with a loose thread on his shirt, nodding along. “And when I was away, I never really go the chance to eat it.”
“Because you were so busy?” you ask.
“Because I was never sad enough to eat it,” he explains.
“Are you sad right now?” You look up at him and see that he’s already looking down at you.
“No,” he smiles. “I’m home.”
masterlist
118 notes · View notes
ace-octo-pix · 6 years
Text
This is... going to be a bit long. sorry, mobile users. The ocs are listed by team!
SPLATOON 1 TEAMS
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ROKA/OLIVIA/AGENT 3. A bit of a lovable goof, with caring too much for her little inkling body. Fierce in battle. Yes, she gets the scar in the OE arc, but the OE arc goes a bit differently in the story due to... reasons? yeah, reasons. She goes missing for a full year and that’s when Akim takes up the Agent 4 handle.
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MINT TEA/PAIVA. A bit of a gossip, but also a wall of support. Wants to cheer everybody up, but is hiding issues of her own. Close friends with Roka. A possible ship with roka, as well. She’s the second leader of the team, and the only one in contact with Roka, right up until her disappearance. Oops. Literally the only one with a picture like this.
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GLASSES/HENRIETTA. I did not know that the splatoon manga glasses was known as glasses, and this is awkward. and also full moon is a thing and AGH. anyway glasses. Seems to be a sarcastic little piece of shit, but honestly it’s just a front to her inner core. Of someone who likes to snipe and have fun. Wonder what caused her to be like that? hm.
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Bandanna/Daphyne. She exudes an aura of edge, an aura of Not Caring... but she really does care... a lot more than she lets on. Will Fight anybody who disses her pals. Honestly a teen girl at heart. Loves black.
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RETRO/AKIM/AGENT 4. A bit of a prick, but the kind of prick you know doesn’t mean his words. He’s kind of skilled in battle with his roller, which makes this W O R SE !! a big fan of music, and gaming, and also being gay. he makes jokes about that a lot.
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SPECS/MARK: you know the stereotypical nerd? stays in a bedroom most of the day, tinkering around with stuff? That’s Specs! He likes to play video games with Retro, and... oh, look at that, another ship. Wow. Analytical!
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SUNNY/GWEN. Similar to another person, she appears to not care, while caring a lot. Apathetic seeming, but able to come out of her core to care. Probably has a lot of interests from her girlfriend...
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RAINY/SARAH. She’s fueled by a firey passion most of the time, but it tends to fizzle out quickly, and that’s how she and Sunny met, basically. Not pictured is the Traditional Headband she wears. Yes, she and Sunny are girlfriends. yay matching outfits.
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PAINT! Er, she looks... not like this as much? Her gloves cover her fingers, and her hairstyle is the enemy octo hairstyle! In the ‘first game’ aka the first arc, she actually wears the paintball mask which covers her whole face, and also mains chargers. She just switched to brella in the second game. Shy, kind of nervous, but willing to put her foot down when push comes to shove. Er, she also has to be pushed to that point. Poor girl.
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FISHFRY. A super out-there kinda kid. sorry, some ocs don’t have much personality. He will Protecc Paint with his life. Probably does research and field expeditions for her.
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PEAKS. Proud of her role in battle, and probably the first one Paint trusted with the secret of her being an octoling, and the one best fit to break the news.
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VECTOR. Full Attacc mode. Fueled by battle, loves to battle. Whenever Paint is taken off guard, she’s probably the one there to back her up.
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ZEKKO. Leader of the Marksmen. Sorry there isn’t much about him. he’s definitely gay tho? Loves bothering the other players with his gun.
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PANEL. A bit of a nerd, though he hides it behind his huge blaster.
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SQUIDMARK. Reclusive? shows little emotion, but its definitely there.
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CHECK. Loves the feeling of his hair. Probably more muscly than you would gather from his shirt.
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SATIN. Loves this style and doesn’t get why people laugh at her scuba mask. knows what she’s doing in battle, but... not much outside of it.
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CANCEL. Tends to ignore the outside world for her daydreams, even in battles, and still does well?? how does this team function
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Ah, this is how they function. PARKA. Aka the straight person- well, they’re nonbinary and are hiding their ponytail in that hat of theirs. The person who sets the team straight and directs them in the right direction. Beakons help.
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Zink. Just as odd as the rest of his team. He says his headband helps him, when it very clearly doesn’t. Or maybe it does and its just a hidden condition. Who knows? He’s just a bit bizarre.
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BERRY. Leader of her team, she’s Suspicious of everything, and fierce in battle. Loves being Warm....
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Olive. Er, he has the wrong ink color, and his eyes are blinking. It’s better like this instead of the WRONG PIECE OF HEADGEAR. Suave and cool, and yet constantly bickers with Berry. Ah, sibling culture. Super strong. A bit of a brat, but he won’t press on Berry’s anxious triggers. That’s Just Rude.
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JELLY. Sometimes called Baby because of just how precious she acts. Will kick people if she has to.
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SHRIMP. AKA... well. You know that headcanon that Pearl, Emperor, and Prince are siblings? Well, Shrimp’s their cousin. He’s got the short genes. He tries to compensate for it by being loud, and is often jokingly called Pearl’s cousin. Likes telling tales. That are often mostly true.
SPLATOON 2 TEAMS
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HOOK/ATA/AGENT 8. A soft and kind soul, friendly and loves to talk more than take action, but when she takes action... whooo. she knows how to take action. If she’s angry, you don’t want to be around. Mostly quiet. Another possible ship with Roka.
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YAMAGIRI/ADRIAN. Confident, and a bit cocky, but it’s mostly only a bit of exaggeration: he loves to stick to his ideals, and truly believes himself to be carrying those out to the best of his ability. Stupidly loyal to his friends.
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TOOTHPICK/NOELANI. Two words to describe her: mom friend. Caring, worrying for everybody that crosses her vision, analytical to a stupid degree. Strong, so she can help throw her friends into a food cart so they can EAT FOOD. 
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OCEANIC/VICTOR. A soft-spoken octoling, but is willing to do whatever it takes for his friends to Remain Happy, happy to shoulder their burdens. Hides his emotions under his big ol’ hat, though if you look under it, he’s probably a blubbering mess. Whenever angered, his voice seems to drop octaves and inflection. That’s terrifying!
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BLOCKER. Oh my god, he’s a party animal. Oh my god. He likes doing memes and tricks, and, you know who this should remind you of? Aloha. Anyway, Blocker’s well known for his tricks with his brella, and his excellent dance skills... which also aids him in battle!
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FUGU. He has a Big Ol Crush on Blocker, and I don’t think Blocker’s noticed yet. Oof. Kind of quiet and likes to observe before hopping into things, useful for a blaster with such a short range...? Awkward, but he’s trying to get better.
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SEA SLUG. Constantly on the go, constantly moving, she’s gotta Go Go Go!! Hyperactive, probably can be seen stimming. Has an attachment to her gun.
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LEAF. Seemingly hard-boiled, constantly huffing about something or other. She’s- she’s a Rider Tsundere, that’s all I can describe her as. Her friendships with Blocker the Party Master and Sea Slug have definitely Lightened her up. Still a little bit of a grump?
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ARROW. Dependable. You can depend on him to tell you when you’re doing some Bad Shit, Stop That.
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HOTHOUSE. A... a bit of a flirt, and a good punster. two things that shouldn’t be combined into one girl.
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TACKLE VISOR. Keeps their face hidden purposefully, which hides their non-standard hairstyle. Rough and tough, a sneaky little bastard. You know, despite the TACKLE VISOR on their head.
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MATCHA. A silly little guy. The oblivious one that somehow still manages to cooperate with Hothouse’s jokes anyway. May be faking obliviousness...
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HICKORY. Such a casual guy. Him and Blocker are probably pals. Party pals. Would drink your soda on accident and then apologize.
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DO-RAG. oh my god, look, it’s a lesbian. She loves to show off, and is super strong. Could probably lift her teammates above her head. Actually can’t see much without her glasses, they’re made for her weird-ass eyes.
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REDLEAF. He looks like the type of guy who hyperfocuses on everything and has to be told to back off, but he’s not trying to be creepy. Soft. Would memorize your food favorites and cook it for you.
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CLAMS. He. he loves being super fancy. Not because he thinks he’s above others, he really, really loves the aesthetic of it! He and Do-Rag fight over which splatling is better sometimes. And then help each other score dates.
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EGG. Super silly, has probably eaten a raw egg whole on a dare. Easily dared into things, though this means she’s very resilient. Can and Will say silly things just to confuse people.
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CARROT. Helps out with Egg’s jokes. Has shoved an entire carrot down her gut before. Egg and her were actually friends before they both traveled to the surface. They are... bad influences on each other.
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RAINBOW: He’s a casual gay. I- uh. He’s super fun in battles, and is often the one daring Egg and Carrot to do things because he loves putting it on whatever the octo media is. Loves sandals, hates his toes feeling constricted.
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CANARY. Oh my god this is a swamp gremlin. You know the meme versions of agent 4? that, times like 100. Jesus. This team is crazy.
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SEASHELL. Doesn’t use the deco because her teammates described what the burstbomb and carbon did to people and she doesn’t wish to cause people harm....
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JADE. he’s blue ba due be- i mean. he’s a good singer, but still learning the ropes of his new weapon.
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DEEPSEA. A friend. The dad friend. Will tell jokes to make you feel better, but always a shoulder to lean on. Always will wear silly clothes too.
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FORGE. ..... a guy of few words.... kind of like skull. doesn’t really talk much, but evidently is a good prankster and loves spicy things. Will tuck you into bed and then doodle on your face.
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