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thebakunawa · 2 years

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you'll fit so nicely, you'll keep me intact

Continuation from this fic

"Perhaps you’d like to talk." You’re bound to a chair, metal clasps holding down your neck, your wrists, and your legs. The air buzzes with energy, you can feel it at the edges, threatening to overload your system once more. You attempt to struggle, as futile as it is and the voice laughs at your attempts. “If you’d simply tell us where the location of the actual map is, then you wouldn’t need to suffer.” There’s a low thrum, and you feel electricity crackle and you bite back a scream, and the interviewer tuts and shakes their head. “You needn’t be so bullheaded, your life isn’t worth much. We all know the She-wolf is only interested in you temporarily. Once your frivolity has faded away you’ll join the score of scorned lovers.” You shake your head, not willing to give up the location of the actual coordinates and instead bite down harder onto your lip, uncaring of the blood that floods your senses or the new wave of pain that passes through you as you do it. In the distance, you can hear Revenant talking, his voice distant but his presence makes the hair on your skin rise, enveloping you in fear and confusion. “Reliving your torture, I see.” His voice booms suddenly all over, and you flinch, trying to cover your ears but your hands were bound.

“Interesting...”

With a snap, you’re suddenly standing in an expanse of green. Beautiful, asymmetrical sculptures stand scattered around, and you realize with a pang, you’re in Olympus. The pain in your lip is gone, you look around wildly, expecting to see the lights from the room only to be greeted by the night sky. “Took you long enough to get here.” An amused voice greets you. You turn around, your heart aching to see Loba standing behind you, smiling at you. “I thought I lost you.” “Never—" The word stumbles out of you, desperate and you swallow, the memory of the torment fading away much too quickly until you’re left with a weird ache in your chest. "You’ll never lose me—I was just...admiring the place." "Yes, it’s very lovely." She turns her attention to watch the sculptures, to relish in the unusual silence in Olympus. No games were held here today. But even in the calm of the moment, you can see her shoulders tense, and you know why. "But hurry now, we have some business to attend to." “Of course,” you say, you know what she means. The codes, the map, everything was being set up. But a voice inside you is nagging. Telling you to focus, to wake up. But you push it away, walking in step with Loba who tilts her head towards a pair of buildings and walks. You follow, keeping up with her and for a moment you’re tempted to say something—to profess your love, make a stupid joke about something you’ve done with Gibraltar—until you realize how ‘fuzzy’ everything is. The grass usually so clear, you could see each blade of grass—was just a lump of color. Even then, each color turned from green to purple, as if unsure of its own appearance. Your heart sinks, and you look up at Loba, who had walked far, you can see her near the steps leading away from the gardens and you swallow, trying to call out to her. “Loba!” But she doesn’t turn around. She keeps walking, walking and walking and suddenly fear grips you and you want to run after her, hold her hand, shake her, ask her to look at you but you don’t. The nagging feeling intensifies, and the cool air, once so comforting makes your hairs rise and you turn around to see Revenant, sitting on a throne of what seems to be bodies, a skull chalice in his clawed hand and you can feel his amusement washing over you in cold waves. “Clever girl.” He says, swirling the drink. “But foolish. You really think death would have saved you from me?” His words send ice down your spine, and you realize where you are. Your realization makes Revenant smile. “How?” You croak out, you try to be brave, putting a front for the creature. “I should be dead.” “As should I,” Revenant chuckles. “But here I am, no longer in a meat-suit.” He sips from the skull chalice, looking at you with appraising eyes, a certain calm calculation around him you’ve never experienced before he shakes his head. “Give me the location.” You shake your head, your resolve firm. “Never.” Amusement and you shudder, wondering what could make a monster such as him so happy. “You think she still cares? You think she loves you?” Barely held back laughter seeps in his voice and you don’t know if it is anger or hurt that surfaces first—but whatever it was, it made him laugh. “You’re nothing—a nobody—no one cared about you, not even when you left. You think anyone noticed?” The words hit a chord. You never told anyone about that fear—not even Loba. You always pushed it away, lived in each moment that you could. But a part of you always whispered about being useless. As a Legend, you held your own but you just seemed weaker to everyone else. The only reason why you seemed to even stay was because Loba was interested in you. But even then the interest—although you refuse to believe it was just superficial—was a “Could be a way to get Bangalore jealous and pursue her,” Gibraltar had said at first, his words weren’t unkind, he was genuinely warning you. “Loba’s got some good stuff in her, brother. But she’s also got some bad.” Crypto had said “Someone has to be a filler,” when he had saved you from Wraith’s finisher, temporarily downing the Legend as he revived you. The words had stung, but it was easy to hide the tears as sweat as you heal yourself with the syringe. Of course, Loba would always welcome you with warm arms, ignoring whatever was being said. You dared never bring it up, afraid you would be ‘too much’ for her and swallowed the fear down. But it lingered, festering and growing into nightmares when Loba does not sleep by your side, which is most nights anyway. Your inner monologue must have been amusing because Revenant laughs once more, his voice scraping and grating over you that it makes your teeth ache as well. “You see? You’re nothing. She trusted you because she knows—she could kill you if you ever became a loose end.” You realize Revenant is enjoying this, watching your descent into madness and despair. You try to pull memories up, of the warmth she has when you’re together, the way you both let the stress of the world fade away. But you can’t reach it, all you see now is your fear. The once warm expressions turned into barely contained annoyance. It explains why she leaves often, doesn’t it? It explains why she can’t stomach being in the same team with you, flagging down Bangalore when she can, and her excuse, “I hate seeing you hurt, darling~” Seems to sound faker and faker each time you hear it. The final nail in the coffin happens when you see Revenant offer you the chalice. “Drink.” he says, his voice brokering no argument, no denial. Against your better judgment, you do. It tastes like motor oil and blood, it’s cold, viscous and it chokes you, drowning out your senses and you realize you’re Revenant, the anger and hurt you feel bleeding with his, a maelstrom of anger that all you want to do is see the world bleed. But a part of you rebels, fighting against the raging hate, trying to keep the last vestiges of your sanity as you watch Bangalore lead Loba into a room, a smile on both their faces, a secret kind of smile, reserved for private occasions. Your heart shatters, the sound audible in your ears, and for a moment you are angry, lost in the maelstrom of Revenant’s own feelings. You can hear him cheering, celebrating, poking through your mind, and memories, but you will not give the information over. It doesn’t matter if you were replaced—if you were tossed aside no longer the favored one. This was personal, you were not giving Revenant the satisfaction of winning. When you feel him brush close to the memory, to the actual location, you let go. Letting the madness surge around you and it’s the same comforting cold you felt in Olympus. It rushes around you, enveloping you in a hug you desperately need and you hear Revenants anger, pushing and prodding, forcing itself to reach you, the same forcefulness that is his entire being. But you’re tired. The void calls to you, the sweet siren song of darkness and madness that offers you comfort. Before, you had fought so hard to stop yourself from falling into it. But now, it’s the easiest decision you’ve ever made.

“Loba?” Bangalore’s voice is quiet, soft, the same gentleness when they had gone to Olympus together and passed by the restaurant. “Are you alright?” Loba paces by her desk, holding onto her cane, fiddling with her bracelet occasionally. She wouldn’t meet her eyes, but Bangalore can catch the trail of makeup in the dimly lit office. “No.” Loba croaks out, leaning against her desk, her arms folded against her chest. “I—I found something.” “What is it?” Bangalore asks. “Is it about...?” “Her.” Loba says plainly and Bangalore nods. Loba takes a deep breath, gathering her strength before continuing. “She didn’t sell me out.” “That’s...good news, right?” Loba sighs, her shoulders slumping but she nods in response to the question. Bangalore nods then, pressing on. “But what’s the problem? Maybe we can find her and you and her can talk this out. She can’t have hidden that well.” “You’d be surprised,” Loba replies dryly she waves a hand, the desk in the middle of the room lighting up and it reveals all the files. The various locations you had traveled, each sighting, each skirmish, all recorded to the last minute—Bangalore is impressed. She knew something was different about you, the Games never accepted anyone not worthy. Her thoughts are interrupted by, “Look there,” She looks at where Loba pointed, the bottom right corner, and finds a casket, a picture of Revenant beside it.. “Oh...” “Yes.” Loba sighs, and her voice trembled at the word. “I should have listened—I shouldn’t have turned her away then...” “You were hurting...” Bangalore shifts on the couch. “But we can still save her—we’ve got the firepower, we can bring her back—” “No. I’m doing that,” Loba says and there’s a fire in her words and Bangalore pauses. “I know you’ll argue with me—but I have to do this. I need to save her.” The determination is there and as much as she wanted to argue with her, she knows this was something Loba needed. She worries regardless, knowing that even if the Game rules protect them, it doesn’t guarantee that Loba won’t escape without a scratch. “If you’re sure...just be careful.” She relents eventually. Loba seems surprised about her agreeing—but she nods. “Thank you...” Bangalore smiles, “I know...you need to do this...but just call if you need any help—you know I’ll come out to help you both out.” “Thank you, Sergeant.” Loba smiles, the biggest smile Bangalore has seen since the incident. “Thank you, for being my friend as well.” “Always,” she smiles, the small pang in her chest intensifying somewhat but her smile is genuine. “I got your back.”

"Found her yet?" Crypto sighs, his drone circling through the abandoned buildings in Olympus, looking for any sign. “No, not yet.” “Okay...” Lifeline says and her drone is on her lap, while her gun is on top of her drone. She looks around nervously, keeping guard. “Ya think Loba’s gone far?” “No.” Crypto replies dryly once again. “She’s smart enough to know that isn’t a good decision.” “True.” Lifeline replies and fiddles with her gun, looking over it and keeping quiet once more, listening, but nothing seems out of place. She’s tempted to ask another question but thinks better against it. Mulling over the situation before Crypto surprises her by talking. “What did Loba offer you? To get you here?” “A few things.” Lifeline replies. In reality, Loba just needed to ask—you were rather close with Lifeline, bonding over your love for helping others, and though she was hesitant at first, when she found out you needed help she was willing to go find you. "What about you?" “Information.” Crypto replies and chances a glance at Lifeline, who was rather relaxed while guarding him. “We can move. I can tell Loba we moved to the next building over because I can’t find anything here.” “Alright,” Lifeline says, standing up, putting D.O.C back and pulling up her Mastiff and Crypto pulls out his Carbine. “Let’s go—you lead the way.” “Okay.” The trip to the next building goes without a hitch. They set up a secure camp in one of the rooms, double-checking for any traps and survey’s the area once more. It’s the same results: nothing and they move once more. Loba follows, occasionally popping up to tell them there was nothing there. They almost give up when Crypto’s drone picks up a signal in one of the buildings by the very edge of Olympus. It was the last zone they hadn’t checked—so they cautiously make their way over. Picking over the debris and the abandoned hotels and rooms when they find a small maintenance entrance. The strange signal strengthens, and they all get ready. Crypto sends his drone first, unable to see clearly in the dark as if obscured by something. But they’re all ready to push, to figure it out so he activates his E.M.P disrupting whatever signal it was hopefully before they all charge in. Loba is the first one in, barreling in almost recklessly and Lifeline follows soon after. Cursing under his breath, Crypto runs after them as well, slowing down when he hears their gasps. Immediately, he picks up speed again and runs full speed into the room only to skid to a halt. In the middle of the room was a giant coffin, similar to Revenant’s. It was thrumming, bathing the entire place in a sickly orange glow. A steady thrum echoes in the room and he realizes it’s a heartbeat. Before they can do anything, Loba takes a step forward, reaching out to touch the coffin but it turns to face them, the cover going transparent. Revealing you floating inside, a mask over your face, floating inside, wires attached to your arms and chest and neck.

#loba/reader #loba x female reader #loba x reader #loba andrade #loba #bangalore #crypto #tae joon park #apex legends lifeline #ajay che

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danddymaro · 2 years

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Aware | Revenant x fem Reader

Imagine A somewhat oblivious reader pinned after more than one Legend.

- stuck between Rev, Bloodhound, and Valk, and yeah, I’m giving her to my boi Rev.

🥒 (dill) with it.

Some Bloodhound x Reader

Some/ light Valk x Reader

I didn’t make BH too sweet, sorry. They’re actually kinda...well possessive here, which isn’t too bad lol. I wouldn’t mind a completely yan Bloodhound, but they’re not the OTP here.

- Truly sorry

Word Count : 3559

YOOO this had been a drabble where Rev was just jelly of Bloodhound. LOL. I actually wanted to add more Valk, but I was like,

-sigh-

Loba.

Aware

The simulacrum's eyes glowed a burning amber, the same color of rueful, charring flames as they narrowed towards the sight of anyone else that had the boldness to try and take claim where he prowled.

Most of the time, the target tended to be the intrusive Hound that always insisted in coming in between, arriving between both he and (f/n) in the most literal term.

Their eyes, while disguised behind thick lenses didn't lose any of their viciousness, and they had no plight in sending messages of definite defiance towards the red-painted creature, words not needing to be exchanged to get the memo across,

'She's mine.

- All mine.'

They had no fear, no willingness to fall back unlike almost anyone else certainly would have, and that was possibly the most infuriating and unnerving part.

vicious threats of promised carnage meant nothing, neither did a burning barrel pressed right between their eyes, nor did A sharp sickle to their jugular.

Metal claws have dug into their flesh, creating deep carves that oozed red until their last breath.

Red ribbons would dance in the air with each slash, with each disembowelment, and yet, it did nothing.

- Bloodhound could not be shaken no matter what was the danger, no matter what fulfilled threat.

Responses came in equal barbarity, their mercy withheld whenever they crossed paths in the games.

Offhandish comments and dismissive statements became sardonic retorts, the underline mockery and venom in them not going unnoticed by everyone else who'd only ever received gratitude and kindness from Bloodhound.

It didn't take long for them to understand why.

And while it wasn't clear why there was such animosity between them from the viewer's perspective, it was for certain that there was bitter blood between them, and the fans ate it up, rejoicing in the bloodshed.

To the mechanical beast, the stalking hunter was their worst enemy.

They were manipulative in the most shrewd manner, their gentle façade being what guaranteed them the young woman's adoration and praise, much to Revenant’s chargin.

Much worse, they were also territorial, sickeningly so, and they took that trust given to them and used it in their favor, to feed their that nature.

" You must choose your companions carefully, Ástvinur..." Bloodhound warned, the attention they cast down to the female disturbingly fierce and passionate, and as they said the address, it was sweet with affection.

Revenant wondered that if the rest of the world could see it...how couldn't she?

They always stood too close and spoke too intimately as though she belonged to them, existing for their molding and authority, having been born for them and much more ridiculously, being ' a gift sent to them.'

If anyone felt as though they had a right to (f/n) it was Bloodhound.

Sometimes Revenant doubted there was anything truly loving about the way they viewed (f/n), and reasoned that with all of the little claims Bloodhound had made, it was morso an obsession.

Because it sure seemed that way.

Revenant was aware he was no better, perhaps it was hypocritical to say otherwise, but at the very least he only watched.

He hardly ever took it upon himself to redirect her.

If she talked to anyone so be it.

If she was happier, then he chose to watch that happiness, entertained with it.

However, the same could not be said for the other legend. Bloodhound was quick to whisk her way while she was in company of anyone else, and made sure to have her alone, by themselves, because the hunter was "more comfortable with sharing," when it was just the two of them alone.

That had been the excuse, the bullshit lie that had been told to get her alone.

That had been how they'd pulled her away from the crowd, from his very side.

They always made sure to guide her with a hand on her lower back,

the satisfied little chuckle they released whenever he knew his rivals had a view of them.

Revenant could see the way (f/n) seemed to take in the words, perhaps understanding what Bloodhound meant, or moreso, who they were referring to because it wasn't like the simulacrum had a good record amongst the crowed.

"I know," she responded back, sounding somewhat blue, perhaps too pensive about the remarks to understand that the way the other legend came closer wasn't just friendly.

The way their gloved fingers lightly brushed over her cheek wasn't friendly, but daring for more and lingering for far too long, long enough for the little brush to turn into a gentle cradling of her cheek.

"Gaze upon me," they said, the tone all too soft, coaxing her more into them, wanting every fiber of her being to have lingers of their taste.

"Heed my warnings little one," they added, and (f/n) nodded, though casting her eyes off to the side in a manner of faint defiance, and Rev couldn't help but feel vain.

As he kept his eyes on them, he felt certain.

There was just one thing his little competition could not accomplish, and it was to turn (f/n) away from him.

Try as they might, it was futile.

"You are very..." Bloodhound trailed off, the long, low sigh they released longing, and somewhat in dissatisfaction as well as they realized how stubborn she was.

"....Cherished," they proceeded after a few seconds, perhaps having debated on what would have been too much to admit, not willing to reveal to her all of the things they had no trouble in reciting to the bot.

It was infuriating how innocent the masked legend seemed, how amicable they behaved towards her while, at the same time the undertone they possessed was anything but.

Words of concern were just possessive claims that at their best were deemed as little chidings.

Every bit of advice was not for her better being, but for their benefit.

How could she not see how manipulative they were, how selfish they truly were?

- How dangerously the devotion they had for her threaded?

Bloodhound had been the one that had, very "gently" warned off Mirage for having put his arm around her, the innocent, little act that had only been a friendly gesture swallowed with offense.

The other legend and (f/n) had, had an unsuccessful duo, but it was something to celebrate when they'd ranked 2nd, the match so close it would have been a victory if they would have had just one more bullet left in the chamber.

Even if it hadn't been a win, it had been quite the exhilarating spectacle, and if anything was just as good as having the top rank, because having high publicity and ratings generated views.

And if Mirage loved anything besides winning, it was attention.

During the exchange between Bloodhound and Mirage, there were hardly any words in between, only a small talk of beasts and prey, blood and mercy as the hunter's blade was promptly sharpened, each slow, long press of the blade against the surface similar to the wicked motion of skinning.

"- Do you understand?" Bloodhound glowered, and the eyes that were beneath the lenses narrowed viciously at the fretting, tanned skin male.

"Y-yeah!" The wavy-haired legend was quick to say, both hands held up in defense as he awkwardly chuckled, trying to play off how damn nervous he was, and how pain strickenly awkward the situation was too.

' - Geez.'

Elliott had been no fool, and he'd made sure to keep his hands to himself when it came to (f/n) because having the enigmatic legend on his tail wasn't something he was really hoping hard for.

Nor was it in him to continue to have the murder bot venomously glare at him as he loomed over (f/n)'s shoulder, standing as a sort of haunting spirit in wait for bloodshed.

Granted he'd never done anything but glare, but still.

He'd already been wary of the simulacrum, and there was no reason to change his caution.

- Even if there were moments where there were moments of doubt.

(f/n) smiled largely, jumping up as she waved at the bar's owner, "Elli!" she greeted while walking through the doorway, seeming awfully chipper for someone whose shadow was a nearly 7-foot mechanical beast of carnage.

the little rag that had been in his hand was wrung and with a hard swallow mirage smiled back, his other hand shakenly risen, " H-hey (f/n)," he said with a lopsided smile as he eyed Revenant instead, sheepishly peering up at him through his dark lashes.

Normally there was a much more animosity coming from him, but during then he seemed rather tame, looking down with indifference towards the bar's owner, not really caring where he was dragged to so long as he spent time with his little skinsuit.

It made Mirage's shoulders sink down softly, a bit of calm coming as he noticed that the bot was subdued.

Rev sat down by (f/n) and drowned the harsh liquor given to him with little hesitance, his expressionless face somehow holding the faintest show of interest with every word that dripped from her lips.

-And talk, she did.

'It's...kind of ...cute?' Mirage tried to reason.

It was sweet in a weird way, kind of like when you find a wild animal and instead of tearing you up, it decides to cuddle with you.

'Yeah...something like that,' Elliott thought with a cold sweat running down his temple.

Revenant, who at his best had always been standoffish and snappy was rather sweet with (f/n), any of the little dark remarks he threw her way being in the form of teasing that got a few giggles back.

For a split second mirage thought of something else, borderline x-rated, and he nearly dropped his glass during then, immediately receiving his two customer's attention.

'That's just weird...' he started, ashamed with himself... but still curious.

Did the simulacrum come with those parts?

'I'm pretty sure he can get them attached...I think...uh...' his eyes then dipped down to the loincloth and he felt his face burn.

'Does it...pop up?' he wondered, questioning whether or not the simulacrum walked around packing.

'I sure hope they use a lot of lube,' he thought with pity. 'I mean....unless it's not metal? I wonder if-'

"- What the hell are you looking at skinsuit?" Revenant said with a narrowed gaze as he realized Mirage kept staring at him, his damn eyes directed down beneath his waist.

It was...unnerving.

Beside him, (f/n) also stood with curiosity, wondering why in the world her friend seemed so...red.

He seemed red as he babbled, his dark eyes shooting everywhere else but the two.

Mirage wouldn't openly admit it, but he was considered dense at times, an idiot too.

Yeah, he paid attention and disagreed, so that was a point for him.

-But (f/n) ?

(f/n) took it to another level, because somehow, she couldn't see how much effect she had around her admirers which didn't just include Bloodhound and Revenant.

Bloodhound was a hassle for Rev, but other times it was the cocky smirked sky bird that dared to stand too close and touched (f/n) far too much, pushing boundaries no one else dared to when it promised a target to their head by two of the most dangerous legends.

She was too friendly and if that weren't bad enough, the way she spoke to her was much less withheld, sometimes borderline crewed.

It was known she was a womanizer, and it was sickening to see (f/n) ease into such a lure, not quite understanding that the flirtatious talk wasn't all for jokes.

The almond-eyed female's smile would always be half lifted, the specific smirk she adorned haughty when she was being spectated by the hunter and bot.

And (f/n), sweet (F/n) stupidly smiled in amusement and enjoyment.

Valkyrie had no fear either, perhaps more of an adrenaline spike when she realized just how much the bot despised the consistent flirting, even if at the end of the day she received nothing but (f/n)'s friendship in return.

"What?" Valk said with a low, an almost harmonious hum ending her words as she narrowed her eyes at Revenant.

"You think I'm afraid of you evil trash can?" she added with a smirk that made his claws want to extend and tear through it, the only thing stopping him from doing so being the (h/c) haired young woman whose smile truly did mean the world to him.

Weakness...

- It was all damnable weakness that he couldn't let anyone else have hold of.

"Think again," she said while standing opposingly, her arms crossed over her chest as she even tilted her head back slightly, her chin upturned.

And even if he towered over her, she still looked down at him with that arrogant smirk, and he was certain that somewhere in her little, worthless skin bag brain she was even more driven by the idea that she could spite him somehow.

He released a low snarl before collecting himself again, hoping to strike low, "What about Loba...?" he asked her, and at the name of the thieving brat, Valkryie's demeanor shifted.

surprised, frustrated...embarrassed.

She clicked her tongue," What about Loba?" she said back, her eyes cast aside.

- She'd rather not talk about that.

It was at that moment that (f/n) arrived, her placid smile warming into a true one as she caught sight for the two.

"Hey guys," she greeted them, " You two seem to be getting along," she observed, seeming rather pleased that two of her good friends were seeing a middle ground.

"Yeah..." the bot murmured, "Getting along," he repeated as he eyed the light-haired female with a glare that demanded her to follow his lead.

"Yeah..." Valk started, "Turns out we have something common," she said back, and throughout the moment they both looked at (f/n).

Revenant released a low, gruff grunt, as Valkyrie merely smiled back, chuckling softly.

He'd never reveal that the highlight of his nights was having (f/n) fall asleep next to him, leaning close and in search of comfort after watching films with bloody chaos and cheesy jumps.

She'd insist on horror movies, and he always agreed because every little shaky hop she performed brought her closer to him, and it was worthwhile.

She'd made him swear to keep it a secret how much she squealed and flinched, and he felt pleased to know that it was a side of her no one else could see.

Bloodhound could try and lead her in their direction.

They could try and coerce her into their mindset.

They could hunt her down and search for her as much as they wanted, but at the end of the day, she searched for him instead.

She searched for Revenant and was comfortable with every side of him he showed her from the initial, callous side that despised having her close, to the tamer, softhearted one that had taken just a little digging to find, and had him following her instead.

Valkyrie could continue to coat her in sugary words, and while she managed to turn (f/n) into a bashful little mess with every other line, the young woman always brought them back to Rev with the hopes of getting a reaction out of him.

She told him of the idiocies and had even had it in her to use the material on him if only to get a little chuckle out of him every now and then.

- So maybe he'd have to give a little thanks to the sky bird for that.

he never quite found her to be competition because it was clear as day that she still pinned over Loba, and she wasn't going to let go of that any time soon, no matter how much she tries and shift that over to (f/n).

Sure her intrusion was annoying, but he kept his eyes on the real threat to which he also felt the slightest thankfulness toward when considered.

He'd also have to appreciate how hard Bloodhound worked to try and come in between because it just made (f/n) even more determined to stay close, the effect being an outcome the hunter could not have foreseen but would certainly detest.

"Hey..." (f/n) softly murmured, her eyelids falling heavily over the glossy (e/c) colored orbs that struggled to lay focus.

The clang of the glass against the surface held more power than her voice, and it meant that it was almost that time to leave.

The sound that came from him was only short of a grunt, perhaps more of a hum as he acknowledged her and her pathetic attempt to get his attention which came in the form of tiny, little murmurs.

"Rev..." she added, her head lazily leaning onto his arm, giving him just the slightest jolt, like a little spark of electricity had tickled him.

"Are you even listening to me?" she asked him just as quietly, a yawn proceeding her words.

Again he made the same sound, and it didn't seem that she liked it too much because she pouted.

"Rev...I... I don't know if what I feel is right..." she started. "Bloodhound is really sweet..." she started, and he felt his body stiffen, his motion stilled as he waited for her to continue.

"But..." she breathed out, sniffling, "But I don't like how they talk about you..." she added.

"I don't like it when anyone talks bad about you..." she continued to babble, "It hurts so much..." she lamented.

And if he had a heart, it would still, as she breathed out the next line,

"You know, I love you...Maybe that's why it hurts," she said while reaching for her half-empty glass.

The attempt was made in a somewhat silly manner as she used her index and middle finger as legs to ‘walk’ the rest of her hand over the surface of the counter until it reached the container.

"I wonder if you feel the same," she added while stopping short of reaching the glass, instead choosing to snuggle close to him for a short minute,

“I hope you feel the same,” she revealed before reaching out again with her other hand.

Before she could touch it, a large, metallic hand took hold of it, his palm laying over the open top as he listened to her lightly slurred words.

"sometimes....no one listens," she said with gloom while latching onto him, immediately feeling at home.

"Well, maybe just you," she admitted." I think you love me too...don't you?" she softly giggled.

Wordlessly, Revenant slid the glass over to Witt who caught it just before it touched the edge.

"- I'm going ahead and close the tab," Elliot said softly while pointing away from them, momentarily leaving them be and only taking a glance back to see the bot gently move her, adjusting her in his arms to carry her.

Meanwhile, Revenant held her with tenderness, and she looked so small in his arms that his need to hold her close felt like a duty.

"Do you love me?" (f/n) asked him again, and he could feel her eyes on him, waiting, expecting, and possibly yearning.

He felt insects crawling over the insides of his artificial organs, giving him a little tickle that made his knees feel awfully weak.

Wasn't it enough that he was carrying her back?

Wasn't it clear when he let her drag him everywhere... when he bothered to come with her because he couldn't trust anyone else to keep an eye on her when she'd clearly gone over what was enough for her?

With her in his arms he then brought his attention to the other person in teh bar,

" - Charge it to mine," he said lowly, speaking to Elliott who, while he'd tried to give space, couldn't help but look at them with a touch of a smile as he listened.

"- And not a word to anyone else," he advised in a snarl, all as (f/n) released a soft, blue sigh, feeling ignored.

“Got it...” Witt said warmly.

“Revv?” (f/n) then breathed, her voice so sweet, the male carrying her registered the taste of sugar.

"If I say yes will you just shut up?" he questioned her as he walked out of the building, his tone awfully soft to match the calm night.

"Only if you mean it...." she responded back, and he scoffed,

"How would you know I mean it, huh?" he questioned her.

- sometimes she made no sense.

“Because I trust you,” she said back, and to him, it felt like another declaration of love.

Her feet which hung over his arm lightly swayed in lazy movement, and the meager rocking distracted him for a moment. It became interesting as he’d felt too reluctant to look down and find her eyes on him.

Her movements slowly lost enthusiasm, and he then released a short grunt of annoyance, and frustration.

He prepared himself with a long, low breath, but stopped short when he finally found it in himself to look down at her to find her sleeping.

His shoulders slacked and his head hung for just a second as his steps took a pause.

“...Yes,” he muttered with hesitance, the doubt within the word stemmed from not uncertainty, but the warm flutter he felt.

- A shame she wasn’t aware.

Iss Okay?

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revenant-dumpster-fire · 3 years

Text

Spiral (Revenant x Reader)

Theme: Revenant tries to keep his abrasive image up while preparing for a trios match. The reader comes to terms with losing a manic high for a depressed low, finding that they are unable to keep up with Revenant's pace or cope sufficiently on their own.

Warnings: Physical male dominance, threats of violence, descriptions of violence, sharp objects, pain, bipolar, depression, mania, nightmares, general romantic fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is trending feminine in this chapter, I would argue I've crossed into romance at this point.

Gender Warning: The reader trends feminine this chapter and here on. It just got too long, I am sorry. Next chapter the reader is fully AFAB/Female. I am genuinely sorry for any and all discomfort/inconvenience this causes. I will likely try writing shorter non-gendered/masculine fics later when I am done with this monstrosity.

Writing Notes: I need to borrow Nox's stash of chloroform so I can test what happens if I put a soaked towel on my face so it doesn't fall off after I'm out. It's for science.

Navigation:

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You stand up, not tall but hunched, holding your arm, flinching from a pain you cannot feel. You stand guard in front of a battered chassis, its facial plates broken into fragments, revealing the copper, wire, and optic spheres behind. You cannot feel yourself breathe, but you can hear the labored rattling of synthetic breath behind you. You refuse to take a step backwards. Revenant's optics hang out of where their sockets once were, and you have the dreading sense of stepping backwards and onto one.

Loba's eyes are like a wolf's. They hunger for blood, and they pierce and sink into your soul like fangs. She wants to finish the job. When did you step in to save him? It doesn't matter now, you've gotten in her way. You shudder, fearful of her wrath. You go to plead for your lives, but it feels as if the words are stuck in your mouth, and the only sound you make is silence. You speak louder, harder, but still you hear nothing from yourself. Loba lifts her cane to strike you. You attempt to scream out your words, and you finally hear your voice, but it barely comes across as a whisper. It isn't enough.

You're struck, and your body is knocked away, leaving Revenant open. You attempt to run back in the way, but you cannot run anymore. You trip and tumble over your own feet, unable to make sense of your own movements enough to reach your target. You scream as her cane plunges into his head. The dread of thinking he isn't coming back looms over you. Then, the fear and loathing hits, causing you to scream in grief and agony. It barely makes a sound.

Loba looks at you. Looks down at you. Looks at you with zero concern for what she's done to you. You swear you will find vengeance to yourself, suddenly sitting over the corpse of your dead friend. Content to see your mourning, she turns and walks away. You scream one more time over his corpse.

Suddenly, the floor underneath you turns fluid, causing you and the chassis to fall in as Loba struts off in the distance, disappearing from sight as you plunge under. You attempt to swim, but you're pulled under as the chassis floats away. The ocean is so cold, and strangely empty as you look around. You hold your breath, trying not to drown, but a kaiju-sized crab grabs you from below and pulls you away from the surface, miraculously not crushing you with its claws. You begin to revolt in its grasp as your body screams for air. The crab wraps its spindly arms around you, placing your head in its crushing claw, but still it doesn't harm you. Finally, you breathe in, surprising yourself as the water flows just as air did. You do not drown, or even choke. Other giant sea creatures begin to appear as the ocean warms with their presence. You want to scream. You try to scream. One or all of these creatures could easily tear you apart and eat you whole. You stuggle against the grasp of the crab, ensuring you slip your head out of its claw first, but the water slows all your movements. You slip away, punching the crab in its... mouth? You're not sure, but you bopped it right where its nose should be. It recoils in confusion.

A nearby, equally kaiju-sized cuttlefish lunges and grabs you, completely wrapping itself around you. Its warm, but you swear you can feel its beak against your back. You scream. At least you try, but it turns into wild sobbing as you assume you will die to this cephalopod. You loved these creatures, but you never wanted to die by one. You know how they kill. They just eat in chunks, no mercy killing included. You're terrified. You sob.

"Stop crying." The cuttlefish seems to mutter, "You're fine."

You're only more afraid at its sudden sentience, and begin to struggle to pull your arms out of its grasp. One bop on the crab was enough to escape. Maybe this will be no different. But what about all the other giant sea creatures? Now there were a ton hanging around, and none of them were smaller than a vehicle.

The cuttlefish squeezes harder to resist your escape as you scream out, adrenaline coursing through your pained and panicked body.

"That's it, I can't let this go on any longer." It says, suddenly shaking you, "Wake up!" You whimper in fear as the ocean turns pitch dark, the cuttlefish arms turning into familiar simulacrum limbs, and the voice returns to a recognizable one. You're awake.

You gasp through tears, still recovering from the mental shock of your nightmare.

"What the hell just happened?" Revenant asks, probably rhetorically to himself. "You were doing fine, but then you started screaming my name and then crying..."

"I don't--" you begin, as you see his eyes sharpen as he recognizes your consciousness. He grabs your face before you can finish, wiping away the remnants of tears.

"Shut it, don't say anything, just calm down." His voice is soft, even if his word choice is demanding. You quickly realize he's lying down with you. In a bed. Covers over you both. You have no idea what time it is, but it seems like the sun might rise soon from the color of the sky in the window. You're suddenly washed over with the grief of seeing Revenant killed in front of you, even if it was merely a dream. You look at Revenant and it stings potently. You start to cry again, choking back as much as you can.

"What? I didn't even say anything!" He squeezes your face harder, clearly bothered that looking at him caused you to cry. "I didn't do anything!" He tries to wipe away the new tears, but they flow sideways towards gravity as you're still lying in bed. He misses quite a few, not that you care.

You close your eyes and try to retract your face to hide it, but he holds on insistently, refusing to lose his grip. You think about it again. You think about watching him die again. You begin to weep harder, unable to breathe normally as your body forcefully exhales every cubic centimeter of air in your lungs with each sorrowful moan. You feel bad. He shouldn't have to deal with this. You try again to pull away. He relents your face this time, but quickly grabs you around the torso, pulling you into a embrace.

"Please stop crying." He mumbles. "I won't actually hurt you. You have to know that by now." He sighs. "I'm not as terrible as you think I am." You can barely hear him through your own wails, but you realize that his interpretation of the nightmare is all wrong. "I'm not going to kill you." He whispers. He is almost silent, perhaps trying to hide his confession.

You instinctively need to comfort him. You hug him, throwing your arms behind his head, while his whole body recoils in shock far too late to escape your grasp. You cry into his forehead, still unable to speak. His scarf must be off again, as your tears don't absorb into his mask and instead roll downward. He lets you hang on to him for a few moments before carefully prying your arms off. As his face is slowly freed from your embrace, he looks at you with an inquisitive stare.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you into having a nightmare about me." He carefully states, a pang of regret in his voice.

"I didn't." You finally are able to breathe well enough to speak. You wipe a few tears off with your arm. "I was trying to protect you." His optics widen.

"You... what?"

"I was trying to protect you. Loba was there. She wanted to... I couldn't let it happen again. I tried to save you, but... I couldn't. But I really tried!" Your crying has slowed, but not stopped. "Then I feel into an ocean and I punched a crab and a cuttlefish caught me." Revenant stares blankly for a moment, then chuckled upon processing the last sentence, not even trying to stifle himself.

"Excuse me, what?" His hands go back to wiping tears away. "Did you mistake me for a crab?"

"No I'm not--"

"You hit me in the nose, skinsuit." He states through a chuckle. "I had to crawl over you and grab you from this side in hopes you couldn't get me a second time." He snickers harder thinking about it.

You sit there, a bit shocked at yourself and at him taking it so well.

"You punch like a five-year-old child. But you had the target correct... if I had a nose to break." He continues to snicker. "Also, why on earth would you punch a crab? Just step on it." You start to chuckle with him, not fully sure why you didn't realize how silly it sounded before. "And a cuttlefish? Really? You have some funny fears, skinsuit." He relinquishes, pleased that the waterworks are over. "How do you feel now?"

You think about it for a moment.

"I guess it's okay, I just... I don't want you to die, okay?"

"I can't. You should know that." His hand rests on your head, playing with your hair a little.

"No, I mean... I don't want you to keep dying painful deaths over and over... I don't want to see you suffer." You clarify, and his eyes widen with some type of new emotion, as if you just understood him in a way he did not expect.

He says nothing, but he takes a moment to pull you close and wrap his arms around you again. His mask presses against your face and his eyes dim as if to prevent you from being blinded by them. His nostrils blow hot air onto your neck and chest from his rattling chest. His body makes an unmistakable whirr while idling, and his vocals almost purr. His fingers press into your back, lightly caressing your spine. You attempt to wrap your arms around his torso but fail miserably, so you settle for just pressing your palms into the chest plate, wondering if he can feel it.

Your breathing starts to slow. You're completely relaxed. It doesn't matter if he's metal and rigid, it's still comfortable when warm and lined up right. You feel your eyelids droop as his optics tighten their focus on you. He doesn't move at all except to study your spine affectionately. You give off a final rattle in your bones as sleep takes you once again.

• • • •

You wake up to Revenant's hulking mass sitting on the bed beside you, on top of the covers again and simply staring down at you, probably watching for another nightmare-induced outburst.

"You okay, little skinsuit?" He recognizes you're conscious now.

"Yeah, I'm alright." You manage to get out between yawns. "Sorry about last night."

"It's fine, don't mention it." His dismissal implies he's trying to keep his persona up again. "I have a game in a few days. We have errands to run before then."

"Errands?" You're not sure what he does to prepare for a game. Last time he seemed to just wing it.

"Yeah, today we're doing a walkthrough of World's Edge on Talos. We're allowed to walk the grounds and look for any objections or ideal areas before crates and material booths are placed."

"Wait, 'we'?"

"Yeah, 'we'. I need to do some scouting. You're going to help." He's insistently sitting there with his arms crossed.

"I'm not exactly as strategic as you're giving me credit for..." You say as you sit upright, rubbing your eyes.

"I never made any such accusation. If anything, you're reckless and erratic." He scoffs, "I wouldn't be asking you to come if I didn't have a plan."

Oh, a plan. That sounds interesting, but simultaneously concerning considering it involves you. You're not exactly good at knowing how to snipe, hide, kill, maim, slice, shoot, execute, dislocate, stab, parry, counter, throw, punch, deflect, fan the hammer--

"Are you even paying attention?" He grumbles, snapping you out of your list. "Go get ready."

"What... what is Talos like?" You sheepishly ask, he looks at you surprised for a moment, then realises most people haven't been to Talos.

"Oh, well, it's... Nice, I guess? Pretty wild weather-wise." He seems to be a bit unsure of how to answer. You've seen Talos through the television before, and it seemed to sweep between lava flows and iced over regions, with no regard for normalcy. You have a raincoat as your "extreme weather" option, but you had never invested in warmer clothes before, as you've never needed them before.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" He demands, bringing you out of your deadpan stare. "You're normally more lively than this."

"Sorry, give me a few minutes." You get out of bed, but slowly, not making eye contact again. You feel off. Weirdly off. You grab the bag of new clothes you purchased the day before off the nightstand, meander over to the computer desk to grab the bag of medicine, and make your way to the little closet bedroom in the back. You can't figure out what it is, but you feel uneasy. Did the nightmare mess you up this badly?

You close the pocket door behind you, shuffle through your clothes looking for anything that works for very variable temperatures. Nothing really does. You determine that you're best off wearing your only long-sleeve shirt and long pants. That's the best you can do.

That's the best you can do.

You repeat it in your head a few times, becoming increasingly bothered by its meaning.

"Fuck." You whisper aloud. That seems like depression. The mania is receding into depression again. You sigh, obviously this is just part of your condition, but it never ceases to be disappointing that the high points have to end. Are your highs necessarily healthy? No, but it sure as hell beats depression any day. You don't even want to shower. You just want to lay in bed.

You take a deep breath and decide to just get moving. Nothing can save you from this fate. It's just the nature of the beast.

• • • •

You slide open the pocket door to reveal Revenant on the other side. His scarf is back on.

"So, what was that 'fuck' about?" He's immediately inquiring, listening in again no doubt.

"Uh, just thought of something, that's all." A non-answer should be fine. You don't want to bring it up. His LEDs sharpen for a moment. He doesn't seem to like that answer, but he lets it go.

"Very well, are you sure that's the best outfit you've got for this?" He looks at your long-sleeved, long-pants outfit with skepticism.

"It honestly is. I've never been anywhere like Talos before." You tug at your shirt, making sure the air can flow through it when it's warm. "I haven't owned more than a few outfits in years, let alone ones for cold weather."

"Hmmn, it's not that it's terrible, it just seems... insufficient considering the colder areas." He grabs the blanket off the bed and begins to fold it. "Take this, you'll look weird but you'll at least be warm." He tosses it to you and you catch it, tucking it under your arm.

"Skinsuit, I want you to listen to me now. None of this empty-headed, thousand-yard stare, understand me?" His tone is very grave. You nod in agreement to his terms. "Until we come back here, we are not friends, we are not close, you are simply my personal skinsuit. Understand?"

You recoil a little at his words, hurt by the nature of them. You instinctively put your hands up in defense and defeat simultaneously. You don't want to argue. Even if you did, you don't have the energy right now.

"Okay, I understand." You put no inflections in your voice, for now, you're just a runner. A very sullen runner. He locks eyes with you and stares you down, trying to read into your answer and lack of inflections, but eventually relents.

"Alright, go get food. We leave in two hours. The ship taking us isn't going to wait." He instructs demandingly.

You sigh, put the folded blanket back down on the bed, and begin to walk to the exit. The silence is a little deafening, but you make it out the door without issue.

• • • •

You return after a long, boring meal. Most of the volunteers were already working and cleaning by the time you arrived in the cafeteria, so you had no one to talk to. You spent so much time in introspection that now you feel you've sped up your dive into depression by hours. Why did you do that, go and eat breakfast alone? You recognize now you should have just brought it back to your little closet. At least then you could have distracted yourself with... something. Anything, really.

"You almost ready to go?" You hear Revenant address you as you walk in. You nod, and don't make eye contact. You don't even know if he saw your nod. The floor is more interesting at the moment, anyway. Was this vinyl flooring, or some kind of cheap commercial tile?

You make it to your pocket door, and gently shut it behind you, hitting the cheap, short, undeniably hotel-grade carpet that lined your whole little room, spare the bathroom. You look up to find something to occupy your time, but see a mostly uninteresting room. Dammit, how are you supposed to fight falling into a depression like this? They didn't even think to put art on the walls when they made these rooms.

You jolt back to attention as you hear knocks on the pocket door.

"As soon as you're ready I want to head over to the ship. It's a bit of a flight, I'd rather get seats before the rest of the skinsuits show up." You hear him move away from the door as he gives his final orders.

You don't really have much to do. You're as ready as you can be. All you wanted to do was find something happy to look at, but this darn room is all tan and "neutral" walls with no art or anything. Sure, it looks fancy and new and clean, but there is no life to it. It's oppressively perfect.

Wait, you do have one thing that might help.

You slip open the pocket door, quickly make your way to the end table, and nab Artur's feather. Revenant watches you from the computer desk, apparently beginning to notice your odd melancholy. You choose not to address him with eye contact and make your way back to the closet room, closing the door behind you and twirling the feather the whole way. You sit down on the foot of your bed and let your mind wander, finally a safe mental path in front of it.

This feather is more interesting than the whole room. It is soft, silky, undamaged, and twirls in the air when dropped. It is Artur's feather, given specifically to you apparently. Artur is such a nice bird, you didn't know birds were so intelligent both emotionally and logically. Bloodhound and Artur. Your first favorites. So calm, cool, and collected, yet so cunning and instinctive in battle. You think back to all the runs you used to do for them before you started trading for Revenant's requests, they were always so nice and respectful. Even now that you have no way to run their requests for them anymore, they still remember you, and by your scent no less. Although thay last part is a bit strange. Bloodhound absolutely lives up to their name, but also manages to be unbelievably precious and kind-hearted. You'd have never thought to join the volunteer force without someone like them on the field.

There's more knocking at the door and you bounce to your feet in surprise.

"Hey, we're leaving." He says from the other side. You slip the feather into your pocket, just in case you get bored again and the depression starts to bite. You slide open the pocket door, making eye contact with Revenant for the first time since you returned from breakfast. His optics widen a tiny bit at catching your glance.

"You're doing a good job at this act. I was actually convinced for a while there." You want to correct him, but don't. "They won't suspect I'm anything but the usual cold, murderous, and mean simulacrum. I just have a skinsuit slave now." He whips around and leads you towards the door, quite pleased with the situation. "I will say though," He pauses, turns back towards you, and gets his face right up to yours, "I may have to rough you up a little bit. I hope you'll forgive me. It has to be convincing."

You're unfazed. For some reason, you don't care right now. Well, you know the reason you don't care, but it's still quite impressive to have such little self-preservation. His optics grow wide as you remain stoic despite him, until he pulls away from your face to continue to the ship.

"Amazing." You hear him almost whisper. He motions for you to follow and you leave his room, heading towards the launch area.

• • • •

"You sit here, skinsuit." He motions to a seat across and facing his. The ship is set up like a military drop ship where seats stretch across the two sides, facing one another. It reminds you a little of the public transportation buses around the city, but with actual seatbelts. "I want to keep an eye on you."

You nod and sit down, this seat is unusually cut off from the others by a massive wall of boxes strapped to the seats on your left. On the right is the wall separating this back section of the ship from the front areas, putting you deepest in the ship from the hatch in the back. You're happy with the privacy of the seat. If the other legends are coming along, you do not want your presence to cause any kind of a scene.

"Ah, you are here early." You hear a familiar voice through an oxygen mask. "May Artur sit with your apprentice?"

"Sure, I don't care." Revenant answers, keeping his eyes forward in your direction.

"Artur." Bloodhound's arm shifts up and Artur flies over to you. Bloodhound sits next to Revenant, but remains silent and unattentive.

"Aww, Artur!" You cannot help but exclaim aloud as Artur lands on your shoulder, preening your hair. He's such a nice bird, you can't help but smile. The depression is barely a problem now, for the time being anyway. Everything else melts away as you get to pet Artur and watch him play with his feathers. If you wiggle your finger just right he will chase and go to peck it, but he's gentle enough not to hurt you. You love this bird. Maybe you love all birds? Birds are just so cool, Artur especially.

Many other Legends have filed in. Not all of them have shown up, and not all of them will. Some are just content to trust they won't run into issues during the next game. You can't see them all, but you can hear lots from the other side of the boxes. You choose to stay quiet and hidden with Artur, Bloodhound and Revenant being the only ones in your line of sight. They're both sitting there, not talking to anyone or even each other, hunched forward and staring forward. You'd be uncomfortable if either of them had visible eyes, but Bloodhound's goggles hide theirs and Revenant's LEDs make it look as if he's staring through you and not at you.

Suddenly you realize you forgot to bring the blanket. You're pretty much trapped now that the ship is filling up, but you begin to wonder how bad Talos is going to be without it. You start to spiral mentally, chastising yourself for forgetting something so obviously important, pushing your face into your hands without realizing it. Artur gives you a swift few pecks from atop your head, trying to regain your attention. Oh well, there's no helping it now. Did Artur know how you were feeling? You're not sure, but he did help a lot. You go back to giving Artur attention.

You watch as the light is slowly cut off as the drop ship hatch closes, leaving nothing but a dark red glow coming from lights lining the floor and seats. It looks super cool, but it's hard to see Artur as easily now. Revenant's eyes glow uncomfortably bright, and Bloodhound's lenses reflect the red light. Those two are so intimidating.

The ship takes off, and many of the conversations settle down to a muted mumble. You remain quiet, petting Artur as he snuggles into the crook of your arm for the long ride. You're happy for a moment. Maybe once your housing situation changes you should try adopting a bird? Eh, they might not be as cool, but they also might be! You focus on Artur, showering him with affection like he was your own.

• • • •

You wake up to the feeling of the ship hitting the ground, jostling it uncomfortably. Artur coos in your arms, you managed to hold on to him while asleep. How long were you out? Doesn't matter, really, better than a boring trip with no one to talk to. You run your free hand through your hair, making sure leaning against the boxes didn't mess it up.

You see the light flood back into the ship as the back hatch opens, and the other Legend's voices fade as they leave. Bloodhound and Revenant stay silent, unmoving, and ignore the others. Have they really been sitting there without exchanging any other words? They sit motionless for what feels like a full minute, the voices and sounds of all other life now faded into the distance. You stare at them both, uncomfortable.

"Um--"

"Shut it, skinsuit." Revenant shuts you down almost instantaneously, and takes over breaking the silence himself. He turns to Bloodhound. "Call back your bird."

Bloodhound inhales deeply before speaking.

"Artur." They hold up their arm, and Artur immediately makes the short flight across the ship to reclaim his favorite perch. Bloodhound stands up, but doesn't leave the ship. They turn as if to address Revenant, but simply stares for a moment.

"Do you have a problem?" Revenant growls at him, clearly unable to determine what Bloodhound may be thinking.

"Not yet." Bloodhound's airy voice leaks through their mask. "What is the nature of your apprentice?"

"None of your damn business." Revenant stands up to tower over Bloodhound, but they show no signs of fear, continuing to keep eyes locked on his.

"I do not believe you." Bloodhound is stoic, unaffected by any amount of intimidation. His words seem not to be a direct answer to Revenant's previous statement, but rather to something unspoken.

Revenant turns away and moves towards you, enough to grab your arm with a crushing grip, dragging you towards the exit and ignoring Bloodhound further. Bloodhound follows, releasing Artur to the skies once through the exit.

Talos smells like so many things all at once. Sulfur wafts through the air probably due to the volcanic activity, the sun shines hard on the planet. Despite sulfur being quite putrid, it's fairly diluted by what is otherwise fresh and crisp air. The air is cold, but warm breezes keep blowing over you. The surrounding area is very beautiful, you see lava flows in one direction and buildings in the other. Beyond the buildings is what appears to be a massive structure of ice. You've seen it on television, but it's not the same as in person, even if from a distance.

"Alright skinsuit, we're going to hit the outer areas. I need you to stick close by." Revenant's grip hurts, but he did warn you it may be necessary.

"I will be following." Bloodhound states, causing Revenant to immediately turn in a frenzy to catch his gaze.

"No you will not." Revenant's grip begins to hurt as his rage boils over. You whimper aloud at the pain, but he doesn't yield, even though you feel his fingers tremble in uncertainty.

"You cannot stop me." Bloodhound doesn't load their words with extra emotion or adjectives when addressing Revenant.

Revenant hesitates.

"Why?" Revenant's voice has changed to something more calm and collected. His grip loosens, hurting less.

"Answer my previous question honestly, and I will not pursue you." Bloodhound skips the question and gets to the point.

Revenant hesitates again, letting go of your arm. You immediately get to nursing the bruise.

"This," Revenant grabs you by the back of your neck and drags you in front of him, presenting you in front of Bloodhound, "...belongs to me. That is the nature of my so-called 'apprentice'."

It's scary to be held by your neck. One side is your throat, the other is your spine. Right now, your spine is absolutely aflame with adrenaline, even if it doesn't hurt to be held up like this. Maybe it hurts and you can't feel it yet? You're not sure. Your legs are barely holding you up, the fear keeps them from locking into place properly. Even if they could lock, you're almost an inch off the ground, so only your toes can touch the ground. You begin to hyperventilate, and you get a head high from the adrenaline and oxygen.

"I see. I wish to continue this conversation later." Bloodhound breaks eye contact with Revenant, and immediately takes off in a sprint towards the buildings. What did they see? Why were they satisfied with that answer?

Revenant puts you down on the ground carefully, your legs still refusing to hold you up. You try to catch your breath.

"Get up. I don't trust they're gone, but we don't have time to waste." You guess he is going to keep being distant and uncaring just in case. You try to stand, collapsing on a few attempts before finally getting to your feet and beginning to follow him over to the nearest bunker. He stops short in front of the door.

"Open the door."

Weird. But sure. You open the door for him and stand to hold it open.

"Now, search the room for any loose object that could be tripping hazards. Touch every panel and button on the computer inputs. And then let me know when you're done."

What the heck? Well, you guess it's worth keeping your mind occupied. Depression hasn't won yet.

Revenant leans against the wall as you look for anything, touching all the panels and buttons. Not really much to be had. Your hands feel a bit gross though, who knows who last touched those buttons?

"Done." You barely manage to say before he grabs you again, walks you through the hallway to another room.

"Repeat." He demands as he leans against the wall again.

Oh boy, this is going to be a long day.

• • • •

"I'm actually not sure how much longer I can do this." You finally speak up. You're wearing very thin. What started as a fine distraction has spiralled into a mundane and depressive task. Wanting to die was slowly becoming a problem.

"Come again?" Revenant growls.

"I've searched every place you've asked, touched every keyboard panel, pushed every button, climbed every building, walked through every hallway, and done every weird thing you asked, but... I'm really tired, and I don't think I can or should keep going." You sigh, looking up at the sky, the sun now beginning to set.

"We're not done. We have a few more hours left."

"Hours?!" You exasperatedly sigh and let yourself fall to your knees. "I can't..."

He growls impatiently at you.

"Then we will do it this way." He grabs you by the back of your shirt and begins dragging you across the floor of the current building. Your shirt begins to choke you and your body panics from being left so vulnerable.

"Stop!" He doesn't stop. You have to scream louder. "Please!" He responds to that, stopping and letting go of you. You sit back upright, pulling your shirt back into the correct position. You can't take this. It's all to much. Depression is winning again.

You fight back the tears, only a few slipping by. But enough for him to take notice. Revenant kneels down to meet you.

"I'm sorry." A single hand on your shoulder. "I can take care of the rest myself, but..." He hesitates.

"But what...?" You try not to sob.

"I'll need an article of your clothing." He seems a bit embarrassed to ask.

You're just happy to have an out. You immediately take off your shirt and shove it in his direction, refusing to look up at him. You won't look at him, not like this. You just stare at the ground. He doesn't take it immediately. He might be looking at you, you're not sure, but you hunch forward to hide yourself better, just in case. A bra certainly is enough clothing for now, but it's still uncomfortable to have anyone's judgemental eyes on you. After a few long seconds, he takes the shirt.

"Stay here, I'll be back soon. Just sleep if you're tired." You hear him shuffling somehow. "Take this." You feel a cloth drape over your shoulders as his untied scarf wraps around you. You pull it around you and go to look up, but he's already gone.

You scoot yourself into a corner you can lean into to sleep, and wrap the scarf around you as much as you can. It's much longer and wider than it looks when it's on his head, and even moreso when it's contrasted against your stature instead of his. It's no shirt though, but at least you won't feel too exposed with it on you. What was this dumb plan of his, anyway? None of it made sense.

Finally alone, you cry freely. It's been a rough day. Heck, it's been a rough couple of days. It's been hard on your body, and the stress has been piling up. Nobody likes to descend from mania back into depression, but ideations and intrusive thoughts are inevitable with you. You dab your eyes with the scarf, hoping it's not rude to do so. You snuggle into the corner of the room, and cry until you're as emotionally exhausted as you are physically, eventually crying yourself to sleep.

• • • •

"Welcome back, little skinsuit." You hear as you slowly wake up from your nap. You feel a tightening around your chest as Revenant finishes tying the scarf taut around your torso in the back. "This will have to do for now." You stay quiet, getting reacclimated to your surroundings.

"I'll clean your shirt when we get back. We should be the last ones out of here, so we should have the ship to ourselves." He hoists you to your feet from behind and tugs at the knot to ensure it stays. "I hope."

You openly sigh, just exhausted. You're not sure how far of a walk back to the ship it is, but you're not sure you can make it. You'd rather just die than make the walk, it's too much. You start to spiral internally, so you pull Artur's feather out of your pocket and begin to twirl it, focusing on it as much as possible.

"Are you listening...?" Revenant cannot seem to hold your attention, and it seems to be beginning to concern him. You nod, still playing with the feather. "It's just a little bit longer, anyway."

You begin walking towards the door of the bunker, hoping he will get in front of you to lead you in the right direction. His hand lands on your shoulder, holding you in place just long enough for him to do so, and you follow him. He's holding your shirt, covered in dirt and grime. What was this plan? You're not sure that amount of dirt will ever come out.

• • • •

"Dammit, you've got to be kidding me." You hear Revenant grumble under his breath as you approach the ship after quite the walk. He turns his head sideways, enough for his eyes to lock onto you walking behind him. "Let me handle this."

You hear the flap of wings suddenly above you, but too late to react to Artur landing on your bare shoulder. Revenant ignores Artur and begins walking faster towards the ship, leaving you both behind to catch up.

Artur takes his feather from your fingers, preening it with his beak and talon before carefully sticking it back in your hair. You smile, despite your depression. This bird. Artur coos and preens your hair as you make your way towards the ship, pulling out loose hairs. As you walk up, you hear the conversation between Bloodhound and Revenant is midway.

"You are not as clever as you believe." Bloodhound's voice comes into audible territory. "You treat your apprentice with cruelty as an act, but the trust between you gives you away."

"Nothing about me is an act. When I say jump, people jump. They know what happens if they don't." Revenant voice drips with anger, but also desperation, something you hope Bloodhound cannot sense.

"And how many victims of your slaughter have accepted being held by their neck? No protest, no squirming, no pleading?" You get close to reaching them, and Bloodhound is staring straight up at Revenant's huge, towering mass, no fear apparent. "Unless your apprentice is like us, the trust and fearlessness is uncanny."

"My 'apprentice' has no fear of death." He mocks the term, loading it full of sarcastic inflection, but simultaneously it sounds like a brag.

Bloodhound looks to you, and you instinctively pull your arms to your chest, trying to hide anything that the scarf and bra inadequately reveals. Bloodhound's goggles glint as their head tilts to react to your new outfit.

"Then why do I see evidence of kindness between you?" Bloodhound returns their gaze to Revenant, who is now a bit taken aback. "You need not tell me the details. Just do not treat your apprentice like prey to convince me of an obvious lie."

Revenant refuses to answer them further, choosing instead to lock them in a glare that makes you uncomfortable as a bystander. Bloodhound's arm comes up, and Artur makes a short flight to it, giving you a lovely caw goodbye after landing. With Artur at their side, they go back into the ship and sit in the same spot as before. You all are the only ones left catching a flight home. Bloodhound must have waited until the last ship back to catch you.

Revenant grabs your arm, gently this time, and motions for you to sit on the opposite side of the ship from Bloodhound and close to the hatch, as far away from his newfound rival as possible. He sits next to you, ensuring his body blocks Bloodhound's line of sight to you. He is growling under his breath in some kind of frustration. You can specifically make out a single phrase: "wait until the match" is clear to you.

• • • •

The flight takes a while. Long enough for you to start spiralling mentally again. You try to twirl Artur's feather in your fingers again, but Revenant's whole chassis tenses when you try to hold it, so you put it away for now. He's very angry, but you're not entirely sure why he is so concerned over his image with Bloodhound. Their fights are almost as legendary as the ones between Loba and Revenant, but for completely different reasons. Revenant and Bloodhound have some kind of understanding that in the off chance they are the only contenders left they will fight to the death with no guns. Only Bloodhound's axe and knives against Revenant's bulk and arms. It's only happened twice in the entire history of the games, but both events are still talked about to this day. If there is anything to top the "Loba the Scalper" moment, it would be another Bloodhound versus Revenant battle. Maybe that was the plan?

Either way, it doesn't concern you. Your body hurts. You are so tired. You aren't feeling great. Depression is winning again, and there is nothing you can do to fight it without potentially upsetting Revenant. All you want to do is feel better. You're not sure how to fight the thoughts flooding your head right now, but they're all telling you that you're not worth feeling better, that Revenant doesn't care about you, that you're too insignificant to matter to anyone, and that nobody should care about you anyway.

Your face falls into your hands. You want to cry, but you can't let anyone notice. So you play it off as if you're tired, letting off an exasperated fake yawn, which quickly becomes very real. You're tired, but you know no matter how much you sleep you will always be tired under depression's grasp. If you think about it, depression is even scarier than Revenant. Revenant may threaten to take all your organs for his personal collection, but depression makes you want him to. Depression makes you want to die. It makes you consider doing it yourself, even. A couple tears make it into your hands, but you keep yourself from making any sounds or unexplained movements. Nobody seems to notice, thankfully.

The ship jostles as it touches down, and a single tear escapes, landing on your pants and making a small, cool droplet mark. Ever vigilant, you hear Revenant's voice make a humming noise, apparently noticing it, but he says nothing more. You refuse to take your hands away from your face, trying to contain any remaining tears.

The hatch opens, and as soon as it does, Revenant grabs your arm and hoists you to your feet against your intent, immediately pulling you to leave.

"Let's go." is all he says as he drags you away, your legs barely keeping pace. Your right arm is pried away from your face, but you keep your left hand up to hide it. You hope no one sees you wrapped in his scarf. It is late, maybe no one is around, but your hopes are quickly dashed as soon as you hear chatter around the corner in the hallway again. You instinctively resist Revenant's pulling, at which he stops.

"What's wrong?"

You pull your left hand from your face, and his expression stiffens as he sees you.

"I don't want anyone to see me like this." You're not sure if you're referring to the scarf, your crying face, or both.

Revenant's stature changes from shock to determination.

"Get back in the ship, you left that blanket, right? I'll go get it. You can cover yourself with that." He turns his attention to Bloodhound, who is just about to leave the ship. "You." Bloodhound's head tilts up to meet him. "Please..." He catches on that word and barely gets it out, "Guard the ship. Don't let anyone in until I get back."

Bloodhound makes a strange chuckling-like noise from behind their oxygen mask.

"Very well!" Bloodhound exclaims as you pass them and move into the back of the ship, hiding yourself.

Revenant takes off swiftly, climbing the wall and moving into the vent system to not attract attention to his urgency.

The silence settles for a moment as you cover yourself with your hands, tears flowing more freely now. Artur flies over and rests on your head, but Bloodhound remains vigilant at the door.

"You are distressed." Bloodhound finally addresses you, but doesn't turn away from the door. "But it is not from Revenant. You trust him, clearly. What ails you?"

"Just depression. I'll be fine. I just have to deal." You try putting on a tough act, you know it's not that easy. "That, and the embarrassment of not having a shirt."

"Ah, I see." Bloodhound seems satisfied that the pieces to the puzzle are lining up in their head now. "You should tell him about that. It's important."

You think about it for a moment. You haven't told Revenant how you're feeling at all. You're honestly a bit embarrassed by your mood swings, and it's not always easy for someone to understand how depression works. You have no idea how he will react. He's already seen you crying, but he probably had no clue why. To be fair the only answer you have is 'depression', which isn't very satisfactory to anyone.

"Incoming." Bloodhound says from the door as Artur takes off from your head, escaping the blanket wad unravelling in the air above your head. It lands on you, completely covering you. It's super large, which is infinitely better than a tiny scarf. You hear Revenant's footsteps come up to you from under the blanket.

"Thank you." Revenant's voice is aimed towards Bloodhound, and you hear their footsteps walking away, at least not verbally acknowledging the thanks. "Now, you." He pulls your head out of the blanket and wraps it around you like a giant cape. "Let's talk when we get back to the room. Cover your face if you're worried about the tears." He readjusts the blanket to include a hood with enough room to pull your face in, which you do. "I'll lead you, don't worry about looking where you're going."

He places his hand on your back and coaxes you up. He pulls his hand around your back and to your shoulder, pulling you up against him. He leads you forward slowly but surely. The hallways are empty now, most people have gone to the cafeteria now for dinner. It's an easy walk.

You feel your feet make it over the threshold to his room and the door shuts behind you. You pull the blanket away from your face and toss it onto the bed, sitting on the end of the bed soon after it. You try to reach behind you to loosen the scarf, but you can't find how it's bound to you.

"Let me." He sits behind you and loosens the scarf, getting it off completely. You hear him breathe deeply as it comes off, but you're not sure why. He takes a moment to press his fingers into your back and along your bra strap, but they're cold enough to make you wince away.

"Ah, sorry." He doesn't sound sorry, but he ties his scarf back on his head, stands up, and grabs your shirt off the bed. "I'm going to get this washed for you, but first..." He leans down and takes your face in his hands, bringing his face mere centimeters from yours, "what was all that crying about? It's actually not an act, now is it?"

His breath flows out of his nasal cavity and onto your chin. His optics are locked to yours, widening to try to comfort you. His fingers lightly stroke your face. You feel your face turn hot, but the truth gets caught in your throat.

"I'll be okay, I don't mean for you to worry," you whisper, practically silent.

"That's not what I asked." he almost growls in a whisper back to you. You feel your face turn hotter.

"So," his voice is soft and alluring, you're sure your face is giving you away, "what were those tears about, little skinsuit?"

You whimper before you can give an answer, and he chuckles openly at your bashfulness.

"I didn't scare you too much, did I?" He asks poignantly. "Or work you too hard?"

"N-no! Well, maybe a little, but it's fine." You try to quell any fears he might have. "I have..." you trail off, not actually wanting to say.

He pulls your face forward and puts his mouth to your ear.

"Say it." His breath hits your ear and you audibly but quietly scream, stifling it as best as you can. It still slips out and he seems a bit taken aback, but also very amused. He chuckles as he pulls his face back and looks at your expression. It must be pretty telling. "I feel like I'm just locking you up more, aren't I? But at least you're not crying anymore."

You laugh a smidgen at his sudden break in character and your own awkwardness.

"Don't worry, you can tell me when I get back." He releases you and makes his way out of the room, leaving you on the bed with your red face.

Now that the room is empty, you can say it out loud.

"Bipolar. So I get depressed sometimes." It still sounds so bad, even when there's no one to hear it. Even in this day and age, some words still sound so taboo and can make people scared of you right away. Mental health terms tend to land in those categories. Especially ones like 'bipolar'. People always assume manic-depressive folks are unhinged and wild and should be avoided, so you usually keep as much of it to yourself as possible. You'd even go as far to keep track of which people knew which side of you, and isolate yourself strategically to prevent each person from meeting the 'other side' until they could be trusted. You hear the door open again.

"I hope I picked the right setting. Hot water with detergent."

"Yeah, bipolar with manic-depressive tendencies is fine." You failed to switch subjects in your head properly. You catch yourself way too late to recover.

"Oh." He seems a bit floored by your clearly accidental confession. He closes the door behind him, walks over and sits next to you. He hesitates, not sure how to approach the situation. "Are you okay?"

"I guess so, it's just a constant struggle." You mumble aloud, still very embarrassed.

"Does anything help?" He stares at the empty screen of the television in front of you.

"I'm not sure. Usually any amount of kindness or affection can help a little. It's usually because anything that upsets me can turn into a spiral." You try not to put any unnecessary emotion in your voice. You just want it to be clear you're being honest about it to the best of your ability. "I spiral if I get bored. I spiral if I'm left alone. I spiral if someone upsets me. I spiral if I think too hard. I spiral if I mess something up." You pause for a moment, trying to come up with a metaphor. "It's like trying to walk through a field full of landmines."

"I see... I feel like I might understand that a little bit." Revenant also keeps emotion out of his voice. "But, you're not always like this, now are you?"

"No, I can swing the opposite way. I can be manic and practically get high off of air itself. It's like pure joy to the point in which I become reckless and fidgety. That was me a few days ago."

"And that's how you ended up on my doorstep?"

"Yeah."

He finally moves and wraps his cold arms around you and pulls you close, intentionally breathing deeply to rattle his lung pumps like a purr.

"Does this help at all?" You don't answer him. You just lean in to his body. "I'll figure this out. Just tell me if anything I do makes it worse." You nod into his chest. He pauses, contemplating. "Do you want to sleep?"

"Yeah, depression makes me tired all the time. But sometimes trying to get to sleep makes me spiral due to boredom..." You mumble the last bit.

"Interesting, I think I have a plan for that also." He releases you and stands up, leaving you nearly to fall over from leaning in too much, but you catch yourself. "Don't squirm."

He nabs you, one of his arms slips behind your back, bracing you, as the opposite arm scoops under your legs to lift you up. You feel your face flush again as he lifts you up. You stare into his optics, completely at a loss. His eyes refuse to meet yours, but his peripheral vision probably gives him a sense that you're staring.

"So, you like this? You like being held?" He almost seems proud of himself, as if this was some roundabout brag. Your answer catches in your thoat and comes out as a short, shy whine. You pull your arms against your chest, trying to calm your breathing a bit. "Hmmn, I thought so. Can't be bored if you're paying attention to me."

He carries you over near the door and flips off the light switch, leaving only the moon above to provide light through the skylight. He carries you to the bed and lays you down, belly down. He vaults over your body, landing himself sitting next to you on the bed. You turn your head to meet his gaze.

"You know, it's rude to stare." He teases, making a motion with his hands as if to crack his knuckles. You have no response, you're caught like a deer in his LEDs. "You willing to trust me?"

What an odd question. The only reason you were around is because you trusted him, right? Or maybe you didn't really care what happened to you? When you decided to stay, you remember thinking that you wanted to know where this goes. Is that trust? Or is it a wanton disregard for your own safety? Or both?

A cold and sharp finger presses into your forehead, square between your eyebrows, bringing you back to attention.

"To be fair, I wouldn't know how to tell you to answer either." He chuckles and pushes his sharpened claw into your forehead deeper, but instead of pain you feel clearer, somehow. "Even you don't know if I'll gut you or not, huh? But you still stay. Such a good little skinsuit." Your face turns warm and tingling, probably blushing again. You intend to turn away and bury your face in a pillow to hide, but his finger is so deeply pressed in that it blocks you from moving. It would scratch and tear your skin if you force it. The tip of his talon almost feels like it has broken skin, but it doesn't hurt like it has. You're not sure what's going on, but you feel calmer. "Still so shy, but your face gives you away."

He pulls his finger away, and you feel your flesh stick to it until his talon is too far for the skin to stretch. It was a strange sensation. Did he actually puncture you?

"It may bleed a little, but you should feel better." You put your finger to your head to feel the spot, but it doesn't feel wet and it doesn't hurt. He must have gotten beneath the skin because you feel a small hole. "Now don't squirm or I might miss."

He reaches towards you again. Even though you intend to flinch, his words keep you from moving. Instead, you bury your face in a pillow as defense, leaving the rest of you as bait. He seems to hover his hands over you for a moment, giving you time to hide your face.

"What did I just say!? What if I was going for your head?" He sounds like he's leaning more towards teasing than actual chiding, but he growls with a certain aggressiveness that resonates through his chassis. You feel his palms wrap around the back of each of your shoulders, sharpened thumbs pressing up against the wells of your shoulders. His remaining fingers wrap around near your clavicle to anchor his thumbs in. Then he pushes, and his thumbs definitely penetrate your skin. Again, no pain, but you feel a strange and almost unwelcome relief come over you. You feel minor concern over your inability to feel the pain you expect, but as soon as the concern appears, it disappears. You feel yourself sink in to the bed, as if you only now succumbed to relaxing completely. You feel yourself breathe deeply and happily.

"You skinsuits really are funny. Hard to believe I used to be one." You couldn't even muster up the tension in your body to ask about that. "I can literally stab little holes in you and you'll still melt for me." He growls on the term 'melt' and you feel the hairs stand on the back of your neck. "Acupuncture is quite the weakness for you skinsuits."

His thumbs pull out of your shoulder wells, once again the flesh clinging to them a little insistently. His palms brush over the holes he inevitably left. He pushes a soft, blunt finger into each, just long enough to ensure you don't tense up or squirm. When you don't stir, he seems satisfied.

"Bet you can't think about much of anything with how lethargic you're acting." He goaded you to argue, but you couldn't. "Can't be sad when I'm here, teasing your little life." You felt a ton of weight settle on your lower back, but not enough to crush you, as his two legs settled on either side of your waist. He was holding up a lot of his own weight with his vaulted heel-sit, but there was enough weight on your back to pin you down. You couldn't see him, but you felt your embarrassment burn in your face while buried in your pillow. A clawed hand wrapped around your throat from the right, but it only barely pressed in, just enough to massage your windpipe. "So how sad are you now?" His face must be right against your left ear, as the air of his breathing hits it.

You squirm a little, unable to contain yourself, squeaking a little into the pillow, but refusing to unbury your face. He laughs openly at you, pulling his face back and retracting his hand from your throat.

"Glad to have your endorsement." His claws cup around the conch of your ears, a single finger pricking into a point at the front of the cusp. No pain, just relief. It feels like a drug: near-instant calmness. You can hear some kind of vocalization come from him, something between a sigh and a growl. It sounded proud, if that was possible.

"I have complete control of this situation." He finally mumbles. "Nothing can hide you from me, not anything." His volume increases, but his seriousness and depth remains stark. "Not even your own demons. I'm stronger than all of it." His words send adrenaline down your spine, but the dampening calmness prevents you from moving.

"They call this one 'the heavenly gate' point." He returns to addressing you directly. "Based on how your vitals are doing, it must live up to the name." Answering takes too much effort. You barely let out a sigh that comes off more like a moan. He chuckles at your inability to answer. He disengages your ears, once again putting a little pressure on the points to ensure there was no reason for concern. You almost want to beg him to prick your ears again just to be flushed by relaxation again.

"Give me your hands." You relent immediately, and he pulls your arms behind you as if you were about to be cuffed. It's a bit awkward, but you know it will be worthwhile. He once again pricks holes in the webbing between your thumbs and pointer fingers on each hand, digging a bit deep. "Don't squirm, this one can hurt if I'm not careful." It doesn't hurt, but you remain deathly still just in case. "This one is called 'the union valley' point." He sounds smug over his knowledge. As the claws sink in, you feel your spine relax and your neck muscles loosen. You feel a small head high as well, but it might be from the whole situation rather than this specific puncture point. "I looked into acupuncture after our first meeting." The first one? That early? "Something told me you would be coming back, and I needed to know how to calm you down."

You lay there: dumbfounded, grateful, impressed, humbled, and happy. The only way he could ever get back his demonic demeanor with you now is to gut you, and even then you suspect you'd still trust him throughout your final exhale. You want to squirm, you want to speak, you want to hug him, but none if it is possible.

"Don't worry, I hear your heartbeat," he responds to your predicament as if he could read your thoughts, "you couldn't hide your giddy approval from me even if you wanted." He releases your pressure points, then pinches your wrists, pushing his thumb tips into the nook where your forearm bones begin to separate."This is called your 'inner frontier'." He presses in, and another wave of relaxation calms you again. He carefully guides your hands down to your sides, so you're more comfortable. He lingers until he is pleased with your level of lethargy. It's either been whole hours or mere minutes, but you don't want him to stop no matter what. Alas, he finally withdraws his touch, carefully inspecting the holes before deeming them safe.

You can't be bothered to move. You're mere minutes from sleep, and there is no sorrow left in your body.

"Hmmn..." You hear him mumble from behind you. "I think this might be better than any corpse I've ever seen..." His hand caresses your back, specifically touching the ridges down your spine. "Beautiful..." He definitely thinks you're asleep, he wouldn't say anything so directly to you. You feel his breath hit your neck, and his hand and arm gently force their way under your body around your chest and belly. "So warm..." He whispers so softly as to not wake you. You feel the weight lift off your back and shift to his knees on both sides of you, before he pivots to land on his side, taking you with him. You jolt with surprise at being suddenly shifted onto your side. You jolt yet again at the realization that he's basically spooning you.

"Awake again, little skinsuit?" He taunts in your ear, wholly unaware that you knew what he said before. "Don't worry, fall back asleep." His whisper sounds predatory and calming at the same time. His hand caresses your belly through your shirt, and his other hand presses against your chest as if to listen to your heart. His legs pull upwards to meet your fetal position. His face nuzzles against the back of your head. "Fall back asleep..." He almost sounds as if he could fall asleep himself.

You relent to his wishes, letting him hold you as you mind drifts away yet again.

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toxiic-wastee · 3 years

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Yooooo can I request something for mirage?

Like there’s a new female Legend (reader) and nobody knows what she does, maybe once Elliot gains her trusts she hands him a small drone thingy, and it’s completely useless until he gets downed, in which it will provide a full shield all around him. Then Reader comes in “I’ll always have your back friend.”

Idk man this is hella specific it’s totally aight if you don’t write it

AAAAAAA PLEASEEEE!!! I WANTED TO WRITW FOR MIRAGE BUT WAS SO HESITANT!!! okay!

A/L/N: (Your) Apex Legend Name

Y/N: Your Name

Mirage/Elliot Witt x Reader fic

You had noticed Mirage staring at you a bit, then talking to Wraith and Pathfinder and then staring at you again. He didn’t really like you so far. I mean, you could be killing him the next game so, would be terrible to get to know him and then have to kill him to become the apex predator. Or vice versa.

At least that’s how you wanted to view it. You sorta just sat in a corner by yourself. You refused to talk to anybody, these people were murderers like hell you were gonna try and speak to them. Well, it was mostly after Caustic scared you and joked about wanting to suffocate you. You would much rather die in a more painless way. Like being stepped on by Loba? Perhaps? That’s a way you would love to go down by.

“Hello A/L/N.” A chipper voice greeted you, ah, the smiling robot himself. “I can’t wait to fight you.” He grinned. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” You muttered. “Here you go friend!” Pathfinder shoved his boxing gloves at you with a smile. “Do you see how they change just like my screen?” He asked happily. “Are these electoral or something?” You asked slightly amazed at the attention to detail. “Or something.” Pathfinder said snatching the gloves right out of your grasp. “Bye bye friend.” Pathfinder went back to Mirage and started speaking, although you couldn’t hear them you felt a strange urge that they were talking about you.

The teams were finally announced, you would be on a team with Elliot and Bloodhound. That didn’t seem too bad. You barely knew Revenant and he scared the shit out of you, you’d rather not be in a team with him ever.

You awkwardly went to go try and talk to Elliot, if you found a golden backpack you’d definitely wanna give it to him. “Hi Mirage.” You smiled and waved your hand. “Aha, it’s good to know I’m the first legend you walked up to.” Mirage smirked. “You’re lucky you aren’t on a team with Wraith, she’s demanding.” He joked and shook your hand. “What’s your ultimate A/L/N?” He asked, “Oh, um, I’m not the best at describing things.” You said looking for a tiny drone in your pockets. “Just.. take this.” You said fidgeting with your hands. “Is this like Crypto’s drone?” Mirage asked remembering when he met Crypto. At least you didn’t punch him.. yet.

“Uh, no relation to Crypto’s drones. Just keep it during the battle, ‘Kay?” Mirage studied your small drone before putting it in pocket, when he did you saw a small gold statue. But your drone quickly went on top of it.

Bloodhound walked over to you guys and before you knew it you were grabbing (weak) guns and rushed into a battle with Ajay (Lifeline) and her squad. (Bangalore and Gibby). You had an RE-45 and a… oh you only had an RE-45. It was better than a P2020 though. Right? Right. However Ajay had a Havoc Rifle. You were definitely going to die. You couldn’t tell what the others had, you got a glimpse of a R-99 though. “What guns do you got Mirage?” You asked him, “uhh.. none.” He said and scratched his knee. Oh God, Bloodhound please carry us. Please do all the work, I’ll do anything. I just don’t wanna die. “Uh Hound, you got anything?” You asked disappointed with Mirages answer. “A Rampage and EVA 8.” He said. Lovely. You were gonna do anything you could to keep Bloodhounds shields up, until you found yourself a better gun, once you did, it wouldn’t matter.

You were in the middle of knocking down Gibby when you noticed your drones shield activate. God damn it Mirage we told you to hide so you could just revive us! You finished Gibby and ran to Mirage, and Ajay was there. You were sure she had a level 1 shield, and your evo points were doing you well, you got a blue shield. But you had no backup ammo. You sighed and shot at her anyways. Her Havoc had we downed you. She didn’t finish you though, she seemed more focused on trying to figure out how to get inside of the shield around Mirage. Which gave Bloodhound the opportunity to knock her down which his Rampage. He revived you and you revived Mirage. “Mirage take a gun now that they’re all dead.” You pushed him towards a death box. “Yeah th-thanks.” Mirage said re-charging his shields.

FYI: I forgot to post this sorry :/

#mirage x reader #Elliot Witt x reader #apex legends #apex legends x reader #fan fiction #other related tags

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djarinbarnes · 3 years

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estoy caliente - javier peña

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

summary: taken in for ‘questioning’ after getting caught dealing information, you’re left with an ultimatum.

pairings: javier peña x female reader (just a little police au - not *fully* dea)

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+, smut, age gap (reader is of age), drinking, smoking... mentions of drugs... office sex, javier’s dirty spanish, reader’s dirty spanish, maybe a little feels...

a/n: this is my first time writing for Pedro. don’t mind me! let me know how you liked it...😇 btw, I am not fluent in spanish. I took three years in high school and occasionally speak it today. let me know if there are any errors.

a/n v.2: the message reader delivers is code, just like the cartel used to use. translation: there’s an order on Blue (Friday) on 300k. I’m on my way back and the transaction is completed.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The music was blaring through the club, sweaty bodies moving against one another and drugs were scattered all over the tables. To say that the dealers were keeping a low profile would be an obvious and blatant lie.

It was easy to tell who was under the influence, when you weren’t under the influence yourself. Which made every other person in the club stand out to you as high off cocaine. You walked around the smokey, the stuffiness of the snug club making your insides churn with disgust.

Deliver the message and get out of there. Your mind was screaming at you as you looked around the club once more, sighing when you couldn’t find the man you were supposed to meet. The disco ball suspended from the ceiling blinded you for a short moment as it turned, casting off the lights of the differently colored projectors.

You bite your lip as you scout for poli, making sure to overlook every entrance and every exit. You know by now that having a quick escape is a favorable thing when dealing information. When your ‘date’ finally appears on the dancefloor, you relax your shoulders with a sigh of content. Finally, you were one step closer to getting out of there.

You make your way towards him slowly, making sure to let your presence be known, not to take him or his men aback. “Señores,” you smile and watch as your date dismisses them with a wave of his fingers.

His hands find your hips, pulling you close to divert attention from the two of you, now lost in the sea of dancing individuals. You wrap your arms around his neck, both your bodies starting to move together, following the rhythm.

You lean, grazing your lips along his jaw, all the way up to his earlobe. El azul tiene un pedido de 49 62 62. Estoy con mi esposa, viajando por Mercedes… His hands tightened on your hips, alarming you slightly. He had definitely picked up something you hadn’t. Before you could register anything, the music cut out, the sound of gunshots filling the air in its absence.

“Manos arriba!” you freeze in your spot as the loud voice booms through the club. You barely make time to notice what’s happening other than shots ringing around your ears, before you’re making your way out the back door, running light on your feet in the god forsaken heels you chose to wear.

“Stop!” you hear from behind you, along with pounding, following footsteps. You continue your sprint, though your lungs are close to giving in. Looking back over your shoulder, you see the shadow of him gaining in on you.

You yelp as you topple over, landing in a patch of grass by the side of the pathway you’d made your way down. He’s on you in an instant – whipping you around, locking the cuffs of metal around your wrists. He mutters out an apology, which you answer with a grunt.

The roundup in front of the club is painstakingly slow. If it weren’t for him, you would be in bed. Without him, though. So, you figured this was the middle ground, and as long as he was the one who took you in, you didn’t mind.

“Ow, fuck! Get your fucking hands off me!” you try twisting out of the firm grip around your upper arm. The short, tight skirt you were wearing combined with the heels you'd settled for, made it hard to stay upright with the power he was pulling you forward with. The handcuffs on your hands behind your back made that task impossible as well.

“Càllate, hermosa.” His breath was hot against your neck, his face not far from the back of yours. With a roll of your eyes, you came to a halt in front of a table, biting the inside of your cheek as you felt the handcuff on one wrist come undone, before the cop turned you to face him.

Out in the dark, you were barely able to make out his face, but you knew him by smell by now. Under the lights of the office you found yourself in, you could now clearly see his face. It was so familiar to you by now, with all the times you’d woken up next to him. And damn, if that face didn’t turn you on, who were you to call yourself a woman?

"Sé cómo podrías hacerme callar, hermoso." You boldly pushed your chest against his as he leaned against you, feeling his hands reach behind you. His proximity let you inhale his scent of tobacco mixed with whiskey, cinnamon and just the right amount of him. You were somewhat surprised about how close he was given your location, your body easily absorbing the heat of his.

You sighed as you heard the clicks of the handcuffs locking around a bar on the table, slouching against his body with a pout. "You're really gonna keep me locked to a table, Javi?" Your eyes followed him as he moved swiftly around the small office he'd taken you to.

He poked his head out of the door to the office shortly, before shutting the door with a kick of his foot. He watches you as he shrugs off his leather jacket, hanging it over the back of a chair, pulling his gun out of the back of his pants before leaning over a desk, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. You push yourself up on the table slightly.

"You're causing me quite a bit of trouble, loba." you watch as he pulls a chair in front of where you're now seated, eyes on your face like you're his prey. "It's the fourth time I’ve had you in here this week." You watch as he brings the bottle to his lips to take a sip, his lips under the moustache wet with the alcohol. "You're gonna need to pay rent soon."

"Only if I get to stay in here with you, Javi, papí." Leaning back on your hands you feel one of the straps of your shirt fall off your shoulder. “Oops.” With a tilt of your head, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth. “Surely you can find someplace else for your partner.” You giggle as his eyes turn to the sky, damn well knowing where he could find you when he came home.

“Estoy caliente, Javi…” you tease, lifting your shoulder just enough to let the other strap fall off on the other side, completely baring your clavicles to him. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he’s taking another sip of the whiskey, setting the bottle down on the floor beside him.

"Puedo pensar..." you kick off one of your heels, sliding your feet up the back of your calf, "en algunas cosas sucias..." the other heel follows the first one to the floor before leaning back, your free hand coming to the front of your skirt, lifting your hips to pull the hem up slightly, "que podemos hacer juntos..." you spread your legs lightly, showing him your glistening sex, "para pasar el tiempo."

Your heart leaps in your chest as you watch him swallow past a thick lump in his throat, his eyes still trained on your face. You let your eyes trail down your body, occasionally flicking up to meet his gaze. His teeth are chugging at his lower lip when he finally lets his eyes fall south, coming face to face with your pussy.

With a mere 3 feet between the two of you, the sweet smell of your arousal filled that gap quickly. "Sin bragas?” his voice has clearly dropped an octave, making your stomach flutter and your pussy clenches around nothing, faintly recalling the sweet pain he’d inflicted there that very morning. He raises one eyebrow before reaching back and pulling a cigarette out of one of the pockets on his jacket.

You nod slowly, watching as he lights the tobacco before leaning forward, propping his arms on his knees and resting his chin on the palms of his hands. "y ¿qué quieres que haga?" The cigarette hangs in the corner of his mouth as he speaks, occasionally lighting up as he sucks the smoke into his lungs.

“Like I said.” You stretch out one of your feet, placing just under his knee, before softly moving it up the inside of his thigh. You watch him think over possibilities as your eyes move over his face, scanning the widened pupils, the bottom lip tugged in between his teeth in the opposite side of where the cigarette rests. “I can think of a few things.”

His fingers are gentle as he clasps your calf in his hand, caressing your sensitive skin gently. He moves just a bit closer on the chair, lifting your leg onto his, placing your foot on top of his thigh. His nose grazes against the inside of your knee, his breath hot against your skin.

He takes a long, last drag of the cigarette before twisting his upper body, stubbing it out into an ashtray. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, you know that right?” He exhales before turning back to you, the doubts written clearly across his face. His eyes dart to the closed door before he rises from the chair, stepping closer to you. “No one knows about us. I could lose my job…”

“Javi it’s close to four in the morning. You saw how many people were here when you brought me in. We’ll only get caught if…” his body is against yours in an instant, making you halt in the middle of your sentence. His hands are on your ass, gripping the pulp skin harshly, sure to leave marks in their wake.

His hips are pushing against yours, letting you feel the hardness of his cock through the rough denim of his jeans. His lips ghost over yours slightly, nose touching yours before traveling down to leave a butterfly kiss on your shoulder, mustache tickling your skin.

“If what?” It’s barely a whisper, but you hear it, nonetheless. Your heaving chest flutters as his left hand runs along the outside of your thigh before caressing over the top of your skin, pushing your skirt up further. Your head is barely able to piece together a full sentence as his proximity overtakes you.

“I…” It’s shaky, trembling as the word spill from your lips. “We…” you let your head fall back as his lips attach themselves to your neck, sucking a bruise into the skin right over your pulse point, making you gasp. “Javi…” You can barely keep yourself up on your hands as his lips travel down, his hands roughly free your breasts from the shirt you’re wearing.

“No bra either? Dios mio…” You watch helplessly as his lips and teeth tug at your nipples, sucking hickeys into the pulps of your breasts. His hands are rough as they lift you slightly, pulling the skirt up and around your hips.

“Javi, take off my handcuffs…” you moan as he grinds his hips into yours, your arousal leaving a shameless wet patch against the fabric of his jeans. Your free hand travels between the two of you, unbuttoning his shirt with your fingers with a light struggle. You push the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall onto the floor before unclasping his belt, popping the button on his pants and sliding the zipper down.

“No can do, hermosa…” With a frown you push his jeans down slightly, biting your lip as Javi pulls back just a little bit, letting you see the patch of pubic hair spilling over the opening in his jeans.

“Sin bragas, papí?” you tease with a bite of your lip, letting your hand run over the front of his stomach, before quickly letting them find their way into the front of his pants. Your hand wraps around the thickness of his length, the inhale of a breath getting stuck in his throat.

“Fuck.” There’s an uncertainty to whom of you had spilled the word, your eyes meeting briefly before your lips finally meet in a hard, bruising kiss. His tongue slides against yours as his hands push down his pants just far enough to let himself free.

“Can’t stand it when other men look at you.” He grasps his cock in his hand, swiping it through your folds before he pushes into you. His cock stretches you ever so deliciously, though the angle makes it difficult for him to fully push into you. With a flick of his wrists, your hips are angled to his liking and he’s sheathing himself fully into your heat. “All mine,”

With a wanton moan and a struggle of your left hand, your right arm clasps around his neck, whimpering as his hips ruts against yours. His hands dig finger-shaped bruises into your ass as he keeps a tight hold on your skin, groaning into your shoulder as his teeth sink into the muscle.

The drag of his cock against your walls is making your head spin, his strong hands holding you is turning you on so indescribably, his grunts of pleasure making you feel hotter like you’d ever felt before.

“Mm, ¿te gusta eso?” he whispers, drawing out the force of his thrusts and you whimper, your fingers intertwining in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He growls into your skin before coming up to face you, resting his forehead against yours.

“Sí, Javi!” you moan out wantonly, your tongue darting out to lick at his lips. He growls into your mouth as he picks up the speed of his thrusts, his hips slamming against yours animalistically, his hands holding your hips in place.

Your body jolts as his cock hits your insides perfectly, his thrusts encouraging moans from your lips. “You close, huh?” Javi groans into your mouth before sucking your lower lip into his mouth, biting and tugging at the tender flesh. You nod slightly, lip still trapped in between his teeth and you mewl when his fingers come into contact with your clit.

“Only I get to make you feel like this,” His hand briefly leaves your clit to come under your leg, fingers curling around the back of your knee as he lifts your limb up to rest on his shoulder. You let out a whine when he slides deeper into you, his cock hitting spots you didn’t even know you had. “Say it.”

Your moans are a whirlwind of yes, please and oh my god before his lips are against yours once more, silencing your whimpers from the undeniable pleasure the new angle is bringing upon you.

With the punishing pace of his unrelenting thrusts, you’re almost certain your soul leaves your body for just a short moment, as your orgasm crashes into you at full force. Your nails are painfully digging into the plump flesh of his shoulder as your cunt violently convulses around his length.

“Fuuuuuuuck..” Javi groans into your mouth as he stills deep inside of you, his cock pulsating ever so deliciously against your warm, contracting walls. His cum pumps through his shaft, coating your insides with the warmth of him, his breaths sharp and labored against your lips.

He pulls back slightly to look up at you, his arm lowering your now limp leg from his shoulder ever so carefully. His hands are soft against your skin as he caresses you, letting you come down from your euphoric high. He pulls out of your warm cunt, letting out a breath from the loss of contact.

You watch with hooded eyes as he pulls his pants back up, tucking himself back into the denim confinements before he pulls your shirt up over your breasts. He turns and grasps a few tissues to dry you off between your legs before helping you down from the table, pulling your skirt down to cover you.

On shaky legs you watch as he leans down and pull his shirt off of the floor, admiring him sliding his arms into the shirt before you watch him button it up, slowly leaning in to place another chaste kiss on your lips when he finishes.

“I don’t want you as an informant anymore.” He says as he turns, grabbing the pack of cigarettes off the table, before placing one between his lips. He turns back to you as he lights it, catching your dumbfounded expression, urging him to continue. He sighs as he looks down, holding out the pack for you.

You hesitantly take a cigarette for yourself, placing it between your lips watching him as he lights it for you. Javi knew you stopped smoking a while ago, yet he offered you one, just like when you started fucking.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You sit back on the table and watch him, inhaling the smoke deeply. You feel your fingers starting to tingle, letting you know the nicotine was doing its job properly.

“Me importas demasiado.” He bends down and grabs the bottle, unscrewing the lid before taking yet another sip of the strong alcohol. His hand comes up and straightens a furrow in his brow, sighing before approaching you again. His brown eyes are soft, warm, pleading.

His admission makes your exhale catch in your throat, making you cough harshly, and you grip the edge of the table to stabilize yourself. You look at him with wide eyes, not truly believing in his revelation. “Javi, you can’t just say something like that.”

The cigarette is back to your lips, your lungs inhaling the toxins greedily, trying to gain back control over the heart hammering in your chest. Javi steps around the table, finally freeing you from the handcuffs locked to the bar, and you grasp your sore wrist in your hand.

His warm hands find yours, taking a hold of your wrist. He brings it to his lips and kisses the angry red marks tenderly, making your heart flutter in your chest. That feeling – you’d felt it before.

Early mornings, the muted orange and pink light casting shadows on his tan skin. His lashes resting peacefully against his cheeks.

His warm eyes boring into yours when he’s on top of you, giving you the pleasure you so desperately longed for.

The safe place you found to be his apartment, the laughs, the longing looks. His lips against yours, whispering everything from the dirtiest words he knows, to the sweetest. The roughness, the softness.

That one time he let it slip, that one te amo that had knocked the air out of your lungs.

“Can’t live with myself if anything happens to you.” Your eyes find his and you feel your heart pick up the speed again. You promised yourself you wouldn’t. It was your one condition, and you’d broken it. How couldn’t you - seeing him like that, his tough façade gone...

Your hands came up to cradle his face, your thumb stroking his cheek as his eyes sought yours for something – anything at all. A few moments passed in silence, the only sound present was your breathing and a phone ringing somewhere in the distance. Javi sighed and let his eyes drop, biting his lip.

“Okay.” It was barely a whisper, but you know he heard it. His eyes shot back up to look at you, mouth slightly open… and then he kissed you. Soft, delicate. Just like the ones he would leave against your collarbones when he thought you were asleep.

#javier peña x reader #javier pena #Javier Peña #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #Pedro Pascal x reader #Javier Peña x you #pedro pascal

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no-thoughts-only-apex · 4 years

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Basic stuff YOU need to know!

Hey! I'm Blue and I run this blog! I'm now an adult! Yay! I have a job, so requests might be a little bit slow! My pronouns are they/them!

Some stuff about me!

My favourite characters to play are Lifeline, Wattson, and Mirage!

Lore wise, my favourite characters are Mirage, Revenant and Octane!

My favourite colour is gold

I'm learning how to draw!! Rip my skateboarding dreams

I love flowers and will talk about them for hours!!

My favourite band is TV girl right now!

Here's some of my rules and requesting info!

If you don't say the reader is male/female, I'll default to they/them pronouns or try to make it as ambiguous as possible!

I'll write for any character with (nearly) any headcanon for them as long as it's inappropriate! Characters can be a super big comfort to people, and I'm in no place to judge anyone about it!

Please don't start discourse on my posts about it!

I do headcanons, drabbles or short fics! I'll default to headcanons if left unspecified!

I won't do caustic x any of the legends! It makes me uncomfortable because of the larger age gap, but I am 100% okay with doing platonic headcanons of him and the legends, or caustic x reader stuff! While the large gap makes me uncomfortable, I don't hate anyone who ships caustic with anyone! If that makes you uncomfortable in anyway, you can leave!

I also won't do Loba x Revenant!

Nsfw requests are now accepted!! Minors dni with those posts!!

Please don't interact with this blog if you're pro-ship, a transcum/transmed/any variation, pro-map/nomap/any variation, ddlg/any variation, anti BLM, or any of the usual criteria! If I'm missing something important, please let me know!

I think that's all i have to say! Happy requesting! :D

#rules #blue blabs

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fanficimagery · 6 years

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Imagine being someone that the Gecko brothers attempt to take hostage. They don't expect you to be as calm and collected as you are, nor do they expect you to be anything other than human.

Gen Fic X Reader

Glancing at the three individuals who've dropped into the empty seats across from you, you smirk at the two men who immediately start making demands and threatening violence should you not cooperate with whatever they have planned.

"Is this meant to intimidate me?" You chuckle, leaning back in your seat and crossing one knee over the other as your arms cross over your chest. Your gaze quickly darts to the girl who looks no older than eighteen, nineteen at the most. "Are you trying to draw attention to the table, kid? Keep glancing nervously over your shoulder and someone's going to realize you're acting sketchy."

She guiltily turns forward once more, a blush staining her cheeks. "Dammit, Princess," the one man with tattoos visibly crawling up from under his shirt and onto his neck says. "Chill out. We got this handled."

"Dream on, pretty boy. You've got shit handled."

The telltale sound of a gun cocking echos from beneath the table. The man with glasses and slicked back hair raises an eyebrow at you. "You were saying?"

You roll your eyes and drop your hands into your lap. "Relax, boys. And lose the constipation face. We're all friends here. Sort of." You smirk ferally this time, your teeth a little more sharper than usual and the two men shift uncomfortably in their seats. "So who's hungry?"

"What?" The girl asks.

"Do.. you.. want.. food?" You enunciate slowly. "Because no offense, but you guys look like shit. And for three drifters such as yourselves, plus the way your boys immediately started demanding money, I'm assuming you're low on funds and decided to hit the first person who looked as if they came from money."

"You don't look like you come from money," Glasses says. "You do come from money. We've been watching."

Your smirk starts to widen again. "You've been watching? Well if you've been watching then you'd realize that no one messes with me. There's a reason for that."

"Yeah? And what's that?" The other male asks. The two men are rather cocky and their patience are starting to wear thin. The female, however, still seems a bit rattled.

Leaning forward in your seat, you rest your right arm on the table. "People like your brother call me la loba." Both men tense and you huff a laugh. "Do calm yourselves. Richie isn't the first generic vampire I've come across. Nor will he be the last."

"You know who we are?" The young girl asks.

"People like my brother?" Seth Gecko frowns.

"I am not a generic vampire." Richie Gecko scowls and you laugh again. "I'm a culebra. We're.. unique."

"Sure. Whatever makes you feel better." Then turning your attention to Seth, you say, "You didn't think I was human, did 'ya? I'd have been a fool to be human and be as calm as I am with your weapons trained on me under the table. Newsflash, boys, your bullets won't do much damage to me."

"But they will do damage."

"For a minute or so," you muse. "And then I'll only be in a pissed off mood." Glancing at the girl, you smile your first genuine smile. "To answer your question, I do know who you are. What you and the Geckos have been doing all around Mexico does not go unnoticed."

"Who the hell are you?" Seth then demands. "What are you?"

"That's a story.. to be shared over food. Now seriously," both your hands slap the table top and you push yourself to stand up and the three strangers all tense in surprise, "who's coming with me to get tacos? I'm not carrying back everyone's orders."

"Kate, go with her," Richie says.

"Like hell she will," Seth grumbles. "I'll go."

It takes the brothers only a few seconds to holster their weapons and for Seth to grumpily stand up. You grin at his mulish expression and then make your way towards a taco truck without offering him or his companions a backwards glance. You order three tacos, plus a lemonade, and then motion for Seth to order for his party all on you. He does and then after a tense fifteen minutes all your food and drinks are ready.

Opening one of your tacos, you drizzle some hot sauce in it before closing it back up and taking a bite. Then after washing it down with a sip of lemonade, you go on to tell them your story. "I grew up knowing about the supernatural. My family was known for.. hunting the bad ones," you say. "There's a certain breed of werewolf that the alpha's of that breed can turn a human with just a bite. It's fifty-fifty, really, because the bite can either turn your or kill you."

"And you, what? You were bitten?" Seth wonders around a mouthful of food.

"Not really." After eating a few more bites of your own, you continue. "It's also said that if an alpha's claw dig just deep enough, you can turn that way too. But that way of turning is really rare."

"Let me guess," Richie deadpans, "you were one of the rare occurrences?"

You wink at him. "Some alpha asshole ripped my throat out and then left me for dead. I would've woke up in the morgue, but some people who knew what was happening stole my body and left me to turn away from prying eyes. And now here I am. Still doing the family business with the added bonus of being a supernatural bad ass myself."

Kate frowns around her straw. "So you're a werewolf then? Does that make you an alpha too?"

"Oh no. I'm not really sure how everything works, but when you Turn.. your form reflects your inner self. There are a lot of creatures that fall under the were category."

"Yeah? And what's your inner self?" Seth asks.

"If you're lucky enough, lizard, you just might get to see for yourself."

The rest of the food is eaten in relative silence with the Gecko brothers still a little stiff. After everything is eaten and no one really knows what's going to happen next, you heave a little sigh and offer them an olive branch.

"Look. I know you guys are in some trouble what with who've you been freeing and killing. I know I'm only one person, but if you want.. I have a place you can crash at. It's a bit out of the way, so if anything happens then it can happen with as little causalities as possible."

"Why are you being so nice?" Kate wonders. "Seth and Richie didn't exactly start off on the right foot with you."

You shrug. "Honestly? Out of the four of us here at the table, you don't deserve to have to live your life looking over your shoulder. And I also might be a tad bit lonely. Because of who I am, people tend to stay away. I miss having someone to talk to."

"About that," Seth then pipes up. "What is la loba?"

"It's a myth," you chuckle. "It means she-wolf. Basically, la loba collects the bones of creatures from the desert and it's said her preference are wolves. And when she has the full skeleton of her wolf, she sings to it. She sings and sings until the skeleton regrows it's flesh and fur, and then the wolf leaps up and runs. Sometime during the run, the wolf transforms into a laughing woman who runs free into the sunset."

"Why you though? Why were you given the name?"

"Because I'm usually spotted in the desert either killing a rogue supernatural or running with nature's very own wolves in my own were-form. Some people have seen my shift from human to creature and just dubbed me with the name."

"So you don't bring to life skeletons?" Kate quietly asks. "Because that'd be pretty neat."

"If only," you smile gently. "Now.. who's ready to get going? I've had a tiring day and I need a shower."

Your house is big enough for several guests, but it's the compound behind your house that catches everyone's attention. After you had given everyone a brief run down of the bedrooms, bathrooms, and kitchen, the attention had been brought back to the building that sat at least half a football field behind your house.

"It's the playground," you tell them when Richie becomes curious. "Want to go see?"

Seth and Kate were hesitant, but tagged along anyway when you and Richie set out through the back door. You deactivated the alarm system and threw open the door, presenting the inside with a sweeping motion of your arm. Seth's eyes widen in shock.

"There's a gun range in the back," you say. "Up front is all the merchandise and you can test it out in the back. As long as you're here, I'll leave the alarm system off so you can come and go as you please."

"Holy shit," Richie breathes in awe.

"But you can start playing tomorrow. Tonight all of you need some rest because Seth and Kate are starting to smell sick."

"Smell sick? How can you even tell?" Seth huffs.

You tap the side of your nose. "Perks of being Other."

The brothers reluctantly leave your very own playground in favor of getting out of their rumpled clothing and into clean sleep clothes after showering. Kate immediately heads to bed, Seth lingers about, and Richie finds solace in your library as he skims through information about some of the supernatural creatures you've kept journals on. But fatigue eventually wins out and everyone heads off to bed.

Your guests have stayed for a week, basking in the freedom and quiet of not moving from place to place after realizing you had no ulterior motives. Though they definitely started off on the wrong foot with you, something about the three of them made the ache of loneliness in your chest ease just a bit. Hence the olive branch and chance of friendship.

Unfortunately, good luck is bound to run out.

And today is, unfortunately, that day.

Seth had taken Kate into town to grab some necessities the young girl suddenly found herself needing and they came speeding back down the private dirt road nearly two hours later.

You and Richie had thought nothing of it and entered the compound, only to have Seth and Kate rush in moments later- Kate looking rather shaken.

"We got company!" Seth shouts.

You and Richie freeze, and your grin turns into a frown at Kate trying to hug herself as she glances between everyone and unsure of what to do. "How many? And who?" You ask.

"Three cars followed us, but one car stopped and turned around after we turned down the dirt road to head here. My guess is culebras. They're the only assholes we've had problems with since escaping Mexico."

Your grin reappears. "Which means we've got two cars full of generic vampires who have no idea whose territory they just trespassed on. Ohhh, this is going to be fun." Richie and Seth stare at you as if seeing you for the first time, you then looking to Kate. "You comfortable with shooting a gun, kid?" She hesitates in answering and you gesture towards a hallway. "There's a panic room back there. Once the door is shut behind you, only you'll be able to open it from the inside. The code is written down and taped to the key pad. Don't come out until you see the fight is over on the cameras."

Glancing at the brothers for permission or whatever, Kate only leaves when Seth gives her a nod. Then cracking your neck, you turn towards the opened doors of the compound. "So what's the deal? Why are they really after you guys?" You ask as you await the inevitable fight.

The brothers hesitate before Richie sighs. "Kate is the key to finding a blood well full with ancient blood. All the culebras want to claim it as their own and everyone knows that to get it, they need Kate."

"So protect the girl. Got it," you nod. You shift your feet so they’re shoulder width apart and rotate your shoulders to loosen some of the tension. Seth produces a gun from the back waist band of his pants and fixes his own stance, readying himself for a fight.

Figure after figure enter and eight hissing generic vampires form a half circle in front of you and the Geckos. Your gaze darts from one figure to the next, your eyes narrowing on the one brave idiot who steps forward and hisses.

"Where's the girl?"

"Fuck off."

"What girl?" You shrug innocently. "I'm the only girl here." The culebras hiss in annoyance and you smirk.

"Keep your mouth shut, bitch, or we'll take you along with little miss cherry pie."

Their leering smiles and mocking chuckles makes you tense and see red. Richie hisses from beside you and you don't need to look at him to know he's transformed, and Seth takes aim with his gun. Your smirk slowly fades. "Wrong answer."

The culebras bravely step forward, Seth fires off two rounds, and you bend at the knees.. your own transformation happening within a second as you let out a heart stopping roar. Given the sudden quietness, plus the wide eyed stares and Seth's mumbled, "What the fuck?", you know what you look like to them. Your normal human flesh is now tinged dark gray and lighter gray in places, the whites of your eyes have turned black while the irises now shine a molten green, the bones in the middle of your forehead have shifted and changed to give your face a more animalistic quality, your fingernails have elongated into claws, and your four canine teeth have elongated drastically.

"La loba," one of the culebra murmurs. "She's real."

"No shit, asshole. And you just trespassed onto my land."

Silence reigns, and off in the distance wolves howling and coyotes yipping distract the now uncertain culebras. You give no warning as you rush forward, swinging one arm back and slashing your first victim diagonally from shoulder to hip. You use your claws to stab and slash, roaring your anger and relishing in the fact that the power in your voice is enough to make the culebras stumble. Seth is firing off round after round while Richie goes toe to toe with a culebra of his own.

All too soon, though, the fight is over.

Chest heaving with exertion, it takes a moment for you to get your bearings. Your eyes dart all over the room and you must be a sight to behold because the Gecko brothers tense when you shift in their direction.

"Y/N?" Richie says.

You growl in response. You can feel the blood splatter dripping from your chin and finger nails, but the thrill of the fight is still thrumming in your veins and you're finding it hard to shift back at the moment.

"You good?" Seth asks, eyes narrowed.

Gulping, you nod once. "Yeah." You inhale deeply before blowing it out slowly. "Yeah. Just.. I'm on edge. I'll change back when I'm ready. Kate's good to come out if she wants to. I don't hear anyone else on my property and I'm under control. None of you have anything to fear from me."

A moment passes and then Kate's scent is filling your senses. Your gaze darts to her as she rushes passed you to reach Seth and Richie, and you offer her a faint grin. Slowly, but surely, you can feel the change washing over your.

"Seeing someone change never gets old," Seth mumbles. Richie snorts in response. "What exactly are you?"

"I'm a jaguar," you say, grinning. "Much cooler than a measly werewolf."

The coyotes and wolves are still howling and yipping in the distance, and the three standing before you seem to finally recognize it and become wary. "I know you said that la loba was a myth, but what's up with that?" Richie asks.

You shrug. "I don't have any control over them, but we do understand each other. People like to shoot them for fun or for their fur and I put a stop to it. In return, when I howl, they answer. It's like.."

"A pack," Kate says, smiling. "Your very own pack."

"I guess you can say that." The tension seems to leave everyone and you all linger about, glancing at the bodies littering the floor. "So I'm in desperate need of a bath," you mention. "And afterward I think we need to all sit down and talk about what the hell is going on. I'm not too keen on these generic fucks," you say while distractedly kicking a body, "hunting down a teenage girl. That doesn't sit right with me."

"You and me both," Seth grumbles.

"Mhm. So we need to come up with a plan. That third car that fled with tell others where Kate is laying low at, so either culebras will test their luck and come in droves or my presence might actually be enough to keep those who know me at bay."

"I don't want to be a burden," Kate softly says. "You've been more than kind to let us stay-"

"And I'll continue to be more than kind and teach you how to defend yourself," you cut her off, smiling. "If you’re going to run with the Gecko's, you really need to know how to handle a weapon, kid. Okay?"

"I.. okay," Kate agrees, a bit sheepishly.

"Okay. But first.. shower! You boys," you then say, pointing between Seth and Richie, "clean the place up. I got the most kills so I get to skip out."

You leave without a backwards glance, but throw your head back in laughter when you hear Seth sigh and mumble, "Dick.", under his breath.

Later on when you go back to check, you smile when you realize they’ve sterilized the entire front room of the compound where the blood bath had taken place.

#imagine #fdtd gen fic x reader #from dusk till dawn #from dusk till dawn imagine #fdtd imagine #seth gecko #richie gecko #kate fuller #seth gecko imagine #richie gecko imagine #kate fuller imagine #fanficimagery

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thebakunawa · 4 years

Text

Paint me in trust

Cross posted from my archive I’m just here to vibe and be gay

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

“I don’t settle. I’m not made that way.” You smile, flagging another drink for yourself and raising it to her as she smirks. “Then what will it take to change your mind?” “A lot more drinks, for starters.” She smiles back, her teeth seemingly glinting under the light of the bar and you nod, clinking your glasses together. “I can do that.” “What do you want, demonio?” Revenant chuckles, his voice the familiar cold and steel that haunted her nightmares. He leans against the doorframe of the room they were in. His cold eyes looking over the room where the USB is located. She notes this, because her hand goes to her little pack, securing it. “Relax.” His voice echoes in the room. “I’m not after that,” “Then what are you after, demon?” She sneers. “Why are you here?” “A little courtesy call.” He says standing up properly and grinning. “How are you and your, pet?” She immediately tenses, her expression cold. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Don’t play coy with me, girl.” He tuts, stepping over a dead body. Loba doesn’t move back, instead standing her ground as Revenant moves a little closer. “We know about her, your little, pet.” “Whatever business or interest you have with her, you can conduct.” The bitterness is in her voice. “I have no care about it. What she does with her life is on her.” Revenant laughs, and Loba finds herself cringing, the hair on her arms rising in a mix of fear and barely contained anger. “If this concludes our business, then I suggest you leave. We’re done here.” She turns on her heel, walking out, pulling out her Jumpdrive, and readying herself to go when Revenant speaks up again. “Did you know she did it for you?” The words make her pause, and she berates herself for turning around. For looking at the obvious trap the demon had set but it was interesting news. “What do you mean?” “We’ve all heard of what broke your relationship,” he sounds happy with himself, his voice reeking with delight it makes Loba’s guts sick and twist. “And I know what happened.” “You sound like click-bait.” She deadpans. “It’s done. It’s history. She made a mistake and I moved on from her.” She tries not to betray the emotions that swirl in her chest, the sharp ache that never leaves every time she is reminded of you and your treachery. “Tsk, little girl, you never learn.” Revenant laughs and before Loba can tell him to fuck off or any other variation of it, he tosses her another USB. She catches it easily, the device cold to the touch and Revenant has stepped back, making his way through the door he entered. “I suggest you watch it.” He says, pausing to looking behind him and offer her one last smile. “I’ll tell you when I find her—you might want to be present at least for her funeral.” He disappears soon after, just before she can reply. She grits her teeth, and sighs, looking at the USB in her hand and it’s decorated to look like a wolf head. She considers breaking it for a moment but Revenant has never gone this out of the way to offer her anything. Against her better judgment, she pockets the USB, readying herself before jumping out and throwing her Jumpdrive. Letting the air rush past her calm her as she runs back to her home.

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

You’ve known for months they’d come for you. You did your best to hide. You’ve laid low, survived off of the odd jobs here and there. You’ve also killed your fair share of people, garnering a vanishing vigilante/mercenary that never lingered too long. But you were new to this game, you weren’t a seasoned outlaw, nor were you blessed with the resources some of the hunters hunted you with. More than once you’ve only barely managed to save yourself from walking into a trap set by hunters for the device. You’ve killed even more when you entered them without meaning to. Somedays you wonder if any of this was worth it. After all, you’re dead to her. If you ever showed face to Loba she’d probably greet you with a bullet and a kick to the groin. Then again, given what you’ve gone through, the idea sounds a lot more tempting and needed. But you know you owe it to her, she trusted you. Even if you did betray it, you intend to see the promise through. You remember the hurt in her eyes, the way she had pushed you back and you knew, you’d never reach through to her. The smiles you’ve gotten, the secret vulnerability she had shared, all a memory now, and you’re left with the cold, heart-wrenching memory of her pulling her gun out at you. “Go.” She says, the laser dot in between your eyes. “Consider this my mercy.” But you both know you didn’t deserve her mercy. You ran from her like a coward, you knew she wouldn’t believe you. Not after you had gone behind her back to give crucial information. Not that you were held at gunpoint or tortured for it. Your mind lingers to the burn marks at the base of your neck or the hot iron on your thigh. You sold her out, the worst crime to do. At least that’s what everyone thought. You gave them enough information to make it factual, but you gave it in disorder. You gave half guesses and half-truths, and you knew the moment they found out you had actually lied they’d sent people after you. It was only time they’d send Revenant after you. You know he’s there before you even open the door. The cold that seeps from the other side makes the hair on your arms rise. You’re exhausted, having barely escaped from a skirmish earlier and a part of you wants to ignore it and simply let yourself get taken but you know it would be a fate worse than death. So you pause, looking out at the window, wondering if you’ll die if you’ll be injured if you fall—and test it out only seconds later when you hear the familiar hiss of his Silence and you immediately launch yourself out the window. Your eyes close and as you break the glass, falling for a few seconds before you open them and roll safely onto the ground. There’s screaming in the apartment, a gunshot was fired from where you were standing moments ago and you run. Your feet hitting the pavement, your blood thundering in your ears. Everyone starts running inside, not keen on getting caught in a firefight. You can hear Revenant’s distant cursing, and you make a beeline to hide under the bridge. Traversing through the confusing huts and houses all strung together. You don’t hear him coming after you but it doesn’t mean you're out of the woods yet. You’ve slowed your running into a walk, you're exhausted, your bones feel like they’d grind themselves and your breathing is harder, much more labored. Your joints ache, and you have enough energy to check your bullets, revealing you’ve only got 32 left in your Flatline and your Mastiff only has 6. In short, you’re truly and utterly fucked. The people under the bridge don’t dare talk. Fear of Revenant has kept them cowed and you have to get out of there quickly. It wouldn’t be the first time you had been squealed on by a passerby. Not that you blame them, the Syndicate had sweetened the deal for your capture and your appearance was a signal for a mess. But you’re tired, dead tired. The ground seems to be calling to you and it wouldn’t be safe for you to pass out here in the open. So you push yourself up, not realizing you had fallen to the ground, you force yourself to crawl until you could walk, trying to find a place where you could pass out in. It took a lot of time, time that Revenant spent hunting you down. You’ve barely made it to the edge, walking using your Mastiff as a cane when a gunshot is fired and it bounces right in front of you. “Well, well, well,” Revenant says, a coffin on the ground next to him. “Caught you, girl. Time to go.” You manage a snort, “I can’t believe you’ve actually brought a coffin.” You smile, much too tired and delirious to take the situation seriously. “Nice to know you keep your promises.” “If it suits me.” He replies amused. “Now get in.” “You know I can’t,” you muster your bravado. “Got the good ground calling me into bed.” “Get in so I can shove you in the dirt then.” Their amusement is waning and you can hear the edge in their voice. “I’m taking you in this, whether you like it or not.” “Pass.” You say and you pull your Mastiff back, brushing a smoke grenade you hadn’t accounted for, and throw it—using the last vestiges of adrenaline you have to run. Revenant doesn’t seem too concerned and it worries you—only realizing why when you feel a bullet tear through you. For a few moments, there’s no pain. Just a fleeting feeling of something passing through you, it was like going through Wraith’s portal, except the bullet was the one passing through and you fall onto the ground, biting down onto your lip, barely suppressing the screams. You hear his footsteps, and see his feet before you’re suddenly on your back, the air knocked from your lungs and you’re gasping for breath—the action making your lungs burn. “I have to admit, softie, you did well.” He says, stepping on your chest, and you struggle to breathe, weakly trying to push it away but you know it’s futile. “So tell me, where is it?” Your vision is dancing now, the red is occasionally taken by black. “I—won’t...talk....” you wheeze out. “Rath...er...die” You hear his laughter and you don’t know if you scream, you feel him crack a rib. “You will die. Just not quickly.” Revenant promises, and you feel another rib crack and you’re sure you’re screaming because your voice is hoarse. “I’ll ask again. Where are the codes? Where did you place the map?” “F...fuck—off—!“ You say and you feel another crack and snap and his growl. “I have no patience for this, girl.” He sneers. “Every time you deny me—I can have you killed and brought back to life. Again and again, and again.” His voice has a sharp glee in it. “So answer me. Where. Are. The. Codes?” You can barely focus now, the exhaustion and the wounds have taken a toll on you. You manage to meet those glowing eyes, the cold expression, and weakly make an attempt to spit at him. “Fuck...off...” His boot deepens on your chest and you pass out promptly after that. “Wait until you see what I have in store~” You turn around to see Loba smiling at you, her hand outstretched and you take it. She’s smiling, the same smile you’ve seen on her when she had found some rather good loot or when she had time to visit you. It’s a quick trip down your apartment, loading up into the cab she must have called and you lean against her. “Aren’t you affectionate?” She teases, nudging you slightly. “You utter poor fool.” “Better a fool for you,” you murmur and you smile against her, feeling her tense up before relaxing. “Besides, I’m your fool.” “That you are.” The words are laced with more affection and you bask in it. “My, poor, pain-loving fool.” This time it’s you who flush. “Excuse me! I’m not—" you pull away to continue your sentence but she places a hand over your lips. Her eyes glinting with amusement. “Not all secrets need to be spilled,” she purrs and you sigh, leaning into her touch as she strokes your cheek. “So where are we going?” You ask after a while, pulling away to smile at her. “I hope I haven’t forgotten anything important.” “For your sake, I hope you never do.” She hums before turning her attention outside. “Be patient.” She tells you. “I’m not patient.” You grin and lean against the chair. “But for you, I’ll do it.” “You do a lot of things for me,” Loba says, and she turns to look at you again, appraising you. You hadn’t seen her look at you—not when your eyes are closed and you’re covered in the lights of the city—a myriad of different colors that somehow brighten your features. “You’ll see.” “Okay, Ms. Andrade.” You snort, opening your eyes, barely missing her quick glance at your direction. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow.” She smiles, hiding it by looking outside and she holds the vault key to her own treasure vault tightly. “Good. I’d like to keep it that way.”

#apex legends #loba #loba/reader #loba x female reader #loba x reader #did I sell my soul for her #absolutely #am i a gay mess?? EVEN BIGGER ABSOLUTELY #I'm just a mess please HAHAHA

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revenant-dumpster-fire · 3 years

Text

Hunter (Revenant x Reader)

Part 1 of 2 of the chapter “Hunter & Prey”. [Full chapter on AO3.]

Theme: The trios game is here, and Revenant's plan comes to fruition after days of planning.

Warnings: Male dominance, threats of violence, descriptions of violence, sharp objects, pain, bipolar, depression, mania, fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: Can I write non-fluff? Maybe? Or perhaps I need to maximize fluff to balance? I guess you'll find out.

Navigation:

First Chapter | Previous Part (Styptic & Canine) | Next Part (Hunter & Prey)

Revenant manages to wake you up in the middle of the night with nothing but his incessant nuzzles and purring. His new chassis may be deluxe, but he can't seem to control how much he wants to show off all its features. He's holding you from behind, completely enveloping you in a warm hold, his nuzzles starting on the back of your neck and making their way around to the side of your neck. You've definitely slept some, but not quite enough to feel awake.

You reach up and begin lightly petting the top of his snout. His bovine skull emits a long, deep purr that can only be described as a very happy growl. He almost seems to be in a trance in his new body, as if something in the code is different, and he's acting out of something reminiscent of instinct. It's nice. He's almost like one of his prowlers. You extend your snout pets to reach from nose to the top of his head, and his purrs extend to last the length of each stroke. He leans into your pets, hoping for a firmer touch, which you try your best to comply with.

You roll over to face him, causing him to pull away a little. He looks at you with a little concern initially, like you might be upset, but you quickly quell him by holding his visage in both of your hands, pulling it close to yours. In truth, you're not sure what you're doing, but you can tell he likes it. His new silicone tongue licks your nose lightly, surprising you but not enough to make you pull away. He definitely has some software changes, whether he realizes it or not. He's definitely acting more like an animal. You slip your hands down to feel his giant mane, made of locks of fur. It feels both soft and fluffy; you can't help but run your fingers between each lock as you pet it. You work out any tangles you find, causing him to purr with delight over the free grooming. The tip of his nasal cavity presses into your nose, intentionally tickling you with his breaths.

"You should sleep," he manages to get out in his purrs.

"Nah, I'm just going to be watching the game tomorrow. You're the one who has to work." You whisper to him, massaging his neck through his fur.

He sighs a small moan at your massage, clearly giving up on his request in favor of getting more affection. He reaches out and holds your waist, softly brushing your sides in return. His head tilts up, revealing his throat. You carefully move your hand to touch it, moving all the way from the tip of his chin down to his clavicle with a soft touch. His breathing slows as you caress him, turning his purr into a low hum and vibrating in your hand. Eventually, his maw opens up, emitting a scary but relaxed hum and revealing his fangs. He's clearly enjoying every moment of it.

"Little skinsuit." You hear him mutter quietly. You pause for a moment, acknowledging him. He closes his mouth and locks eyes with you, pushing his nose into your face and huffing in it. He doesn't immediately speak, just nuzzles you on the side of your face, intentionally breathing into your ear to get you to wince from the tickling feeling. He shoves his tongue right on your face, licking you like a dog.

"Ack, what is it?" You lift your hands up to your face to defend your face from further onslaught. He pushes his snout into your hands and licks them instead. "Rev... Are you okay?"

He stops, pushing his snout through your hands and touching the tip of your nose.

"What are you supposed to taste like?" He finally utters. You're a bit taken aback by his question.

"I don't really know, why? Do I taste strange?"

"Honeysuckle. That's what I taste." He pulls you right into him, enveloping your whole body. "I haven't had a real tongue in so long. I don't remember what anything is supposed to taste like anymore." He sounds saddened by his conclusion, but you can't get your hands free to comfort him. You shove your face in his mane instead, snuggling up against him. You struggle to find any words to say, but try to come up with something.

"Hey, Revenant?" He doesn't respond, but it's safe to assume you have his attention. "I like you no matter what." You retreat into his mane as deep as your face can go, unsure of how he will react.

You feel his body heat up, and his claw cup the back of your head. His head tucks around your shoulder, and his legs surround you to pull you into his frame. His spare arm wraps around you, and his body starts to rattle in a purr. You carefully wrap your hands around his waist and softly caress it, unable to press into it like his other body with leather allows. You're stuck otherwise, so you make a small kissing gesture and noise into his mane, unsure if he hears you.

"Sleep, my little skinsuit. Before you convince me to forfeit this game." He purrs in your ear, brushing your hair with his fingers. You're not sure what he means; you've asked him to do no such thing, but you let yourself snuggle up against his heat, easily drifting to sleep as he coos at you.

• • • •

You wake up in a mess of damp fur, mouth open and now dry as a desert. You close your mouth and pull your face away from the sopping mats of fur, emitting a sound similar to a snore as you breathe through your nose again.

"Didn't realize you'd be the one to get me wet, skinsuit." Revenant teases, running his claws through his soaked mane. "Your dreams must be real fun for you to drool all over me like that." You snap to as you realize what you've done.

"Oh no, I'm sorry!" You pull away and try to dry him off with the sheets, to no avail.

"Don't be sorry, this is perfect." You ignore him, sitting up to dry him off at a better angle. He lets you, but you quickly abandon the sheet and go grab a towel from the bathroom. As you rub into his mane, he looks up with you with something that feels like a smile, but you can't be sure. Either way, he seems to be enjoying it. He lets you continue as he slowly sits up, leaning into your rubs and purring under his breath. You get as much of your drool out of his mane as possible, but eventually you finally have to give up and pull the towel away.

Revenant makes his way out of bed, satisfied by your work, although you don't feel the same. He stands tall over you, looking down at you with curiosity and adoration. He pushes his hand into your hair and rustles it.

"Don't look so dejected, you didn't ruin anything." He reads your mind; you feel like you've destroyed his favorite chassis with drool of all things. "Trust me, I was banking on you making a mess. It'll all work out in my favor. Shut off your little brain and let me do the thinking, just trust me." His voice growls seductively as he pokes the tip of your nose with his claw.

"Now, go eat before I force feed you. Your girlfriend should be here in an hour or so to watch the match with you." His voice is so smooth but growly. "I need to go prepare. Take care of yourself, skinsuit. I expect you here when I get back." And with that, he turns heels and confidently glides out the door, gone for the day.

You stare for a few moments, deeply hoping he will reappear so you can stare some more. Even his gait is so alluring, so confident, so strong. He is focused, powerful, and yet so secretive. You may not be sure how to respond to his flirtatious gestures, but knowing he is possessive of you is an honor he clearly doesn't give to many. What did you do? Does it matter? You want him to come back and make your face turn red again, tease you into forgetting about your depression, and treat you like his most prized possession. You want to make him melt with snout rubs, warm him, and delight him with your inherent shyness. You finally feel comfortable, but--more importantly--you feel attached.

You come back to reality, quickly scrambling to find the television remote, turning it on to the main event. They're still talking about Loba from the previous match, throwing up pictures all over the screen. How long can they talk about the same thing and still not run out of things to say? You sigh, knowing they will have to let up as the opening of the game starts.

You move over to the kitchenette and start warming up your leftovers. Chinese for breakfast is the sign of a good day, in your opinion. Some people say it's better the next day, but you can't wholly agree. It's different, not better or worse, but you love both. With your appetite finally back, you almost feel like waiting for it to finish, but you know showering while it heats up and cools off enough to eat is the wise choice.

• • • •

You answer the door, seeing Sherry bashfully waving to you with an unsure smile on her face.

"Hey Sherry, Rev told me he--"

"Put in a request for me to come and keep you company, right?"

"Yeah, I hope it's not too much trouble." You step aside so she can enter, which she does.

"So that's what he told you, but do you know what he really asked?" She reels around, fancying a tease as her finger twirled in the air.

"Oh no..." You trail off, already expecting something embarrassing. Sherry makes her way to the couch, throwing herself down and patting the seat next to her to invite you over.

"Oh, nothing that bad. He specifically asked me to make sure you were having a good time and safe. He requested that I not let you get sad, even if I had to--" she clears her throat, preparing to make a direct quote, "--encroach on my territory again." She giggles at the choice of words not even looking up to see your cheeks turn a light pink. He's definitely partially influenced by his software, that's the kind of thing a prowler would say if they could speak. Although, he is possessive on his own too.

"To be fair, you did shove my face in your tits right in front of him..." You sit down next to her, pulling your legs up to cross them.

"I dunno, the way his head tilted made me think he might have liked it." She throws her arms around you for a hug, relishing in pulling you in despite your pulling away.

"You're just as bad as he is." You sigh, accepting the hug that is forced on you.

"Oh? Maybe I can gang up on you with him sometime."

The innuendo isn't lost on you, making you grimace in further realization that you've surrounded yourself with people who tease you with questionable remarks. Sherry lets you go, turning her attention to the television.

"So, got any insider information on what we're about to see?" She lets you off the hook, for now.

"Well, sounds like our favorites are teamed up, for one." She beams, clearly excited at being able to root for the same team. "Second, Revenant has been teasing some grand plan for a while... apparently he's not fond of--" you nod towards Loba holding Revenant's scarf on the screen, "--that. He plans to erase it from everyone's minds."

"Not going to lie, that's the most exciting thing I've heard in ages leading up to a match." Sherry snuggles into the plush couch. It makes sense, she's been working here since before you started. Heck, she's the one who got you the job. She's probably heard everything when it comes to hype, and is likely unaffected by the commentator's excitement anymore. A Legend having some grand scheme for a match would be way more promising. "I'm just glad Revenant and Wattson are on the same team. It means I don't need to root against your shiny metal boyfriend." She smirks at you.

"You'd date Wattson if you could." You retort, trying to fend off her wit.

"Oh! So you are dating!" Ah, shit. You didn't mean to imply that. "So how is he? Is he everything you dreamed? Does he satisfy you?" She's so excitable, despite your answer being completely predictable.

"It's not like that." You turn away, hoping she won't push it.

"It's not like that--yet." She has to push the envelope, every time. She just can't let anything go. "I think he likes you. I bet he's thinking about you right now."

"When there's blood to be spilt? Fat chance." You finally see an opening for a comeback, and you take it. Sherry looks at you with shock, until it melts into a beaming smirk.

"It's cute how much you like him." She finally says.

"Oh, shut it." You leave it there, happy with the ceasefire, knowing you'll likely lose ground if you push it.

The television starts announcing the teams, showing Revenant with Wattson and Wraith. The camera holds on Revenant, standing in the middle and in front of his teammates in the drop ship, giving the commentators time to fawn over his unusual chassis. The floral language they use to describe the viciousness of his new body makes you chuckle as you think about how much he loves snout rubs. You feel a little badass for once; after all, you've tamed the unholy beast they seem so reverent of.

Revenant turns his head, locking optics with something off screen. The camera pans to see who, and a familiar masked face appears. If Bloodhound could have an intense look, this was it. It was a primal look, a pure determination that could only be described as a hunter locking eyes with a most dangerous prey. This is what Revenant meant. This was his plan. There was no chance this would end without a fight for the ages. His animalistic appearance only added to the allure of this soon-to-be battle.

"Hey, why don't we watch the team channel?" Sherry breaks your immersion in the game.

"The what?"

"Oh my--you've been here almost as long as me! How do you not know these things?!" You shrug, still not sure what she's talking about. "Every room gets a special team-specific feed with communications and everything. We should watch it if Wattsy and Revenant are together." She gets up and grabs the remote, clicking a button as she returns, causing the perspective to shift and the commentators to fall silent. You can hear the team instead, loud and clear. Why didn't you know about this?

Sherry bops you on the back of the head before returning her attention to the television.

The voices come through loud and clear on this channel.

"Are you sure about this?" Wattson asks, looking up at Revenant's massive frame.

"Yeah, this seems like a good way to get knocked out early." Wraith crosses her arms, sounding equally skeptical.

"I don't need you to trust me, but I'm going to be chased down. I need to drop separately and lose their trail. I need you to kit up without me, and I will meet you where you are." Revenant must be referring to Bloodhound.

"And what if we're targeted for landing as two instead of three? Not to insult your intelligence, but this seems particularly unwise." Wattson is always so sweet, even when she's not very fond of who she's speaking to.

"You'll need to drop cold. Drop within running distance to me and I will come to your aid if you're targeted." Revenant insists. Wattson sighs, clearly unsure of how to change his mind.

"Very well, please do not get us all killed, even if it is in your programming." Wattson relents.

They walk over and stand tall near the open hatch, barely keeping themselves up and not falling into World's Edge. The wind makes it impossible to hear the communications, but you see Revenant pointing to a few places and Wattson making hand motions as if to discuss options. Wraith just keeps her arms crossed, looking like a badass behind them.

Revenant steps away from the two to step further inside the ship, leaning against the ship wall and appearing to sigh. You hear a voice pick up on his communications.

"You are not as clever as you think, bráð." Revenant turns his gaze to meet Bloodhound, who is haughtily ignoring their teammates in favor of stoking these flames. "You may have disguised your scent with that of your apprentice, but all I must do is hunt your apprentice in order to find you." Revenant huffs, unfazed. "I will be disappointed if this hunt is unworthy of my skills."

With that, Bloodhound turns away to face their teammates, returning to planning. Fuse and Caustic seem completely okay with Bloodhound's previous absence from the conversation, willingly taking time to catch Bloodhound up on their plans. Revenant moves back to his team, Wattson clearly having noticed the exchange over her comms.

"Making friends, are we? I did not think you had it in you." She chuckles a little. She's a bit sassy herself, no wonder her and Sherry get along.

Revenant blows a puff of breath out his nostrils and into his mic, refusing to acknowledge her question.

"You'd be surprised, I think our local murder machine is going soft on us." Wraith pipes up in a taunting manner. Revenant looks very concerned that she might expand on her statement, but Wraith clearly is just enjoying his somewhat panicked reaction, smirking at him with delight.

"Perhaps this is a story for another day. Our drop is coming up!" Wattson chirps, clearly getting a bit excited.

The comms go quiet, spare for the blowing wind near the hatch, before they all jump into the white abyss, the drone camera attempting to follow. As the camera breaches the cloud line, you can see the trails of the team splitting, two in one direction and the other in the opposite. A message appears on the screen reading: 'calling additional drone' before it follows Wraith and Wattson down below.

"Do you want to watch your big metal hunk?" Sherry teases you. "He went off by himself, so I don't mind watching him. I'm comfortable that Wattsy will just be picking up loot safely in that area. Nobody really drops over there."

"I'm being hunted as expected. Stay alive, you two. I'll be there soon." Revenant's voice can be heard over the television.

"Yes! How do we watch him?!" You pipe up, instantly concerned.

Sherry hits a button on the remote and a new visual appears. This new camera drone isn't at Revenant yet, but staring down Bloodhound instead. Bloodhound is looking back and fourth, clearly flustered. The drone hovers, refusing to move as it may give away positions of either Legend.

Bloodhound runs up to a bunker, opens the door, and immediately puts their gloved hands over their mask, as if they're smelling something pungent. They run over to the control panel, wiping the surface and sniffing their fingers. Suddenly, they look invigorated. Impressed, perhaps? It's hard to say. Bloodhound appears to speak into their communications mic and runs off in a full sprint, disappearing from the drone's view.

The drone watches longingly after Bloodhound's trail before it suddenly jostles, making the view blurred and incomprehensible. The camera slows, eventually able to capture an image. It's Revenant's visage, clearly holding the drone at arm's length while sprinting.

"I know you're watching, little skinsuit. Hug your girlfriend if you get too scared." The drone mic isn't as clear as his team comms device, but he's still understandable. "In fact--Sherry--keep her warm for me. You have my support, but I get her back as soon as this is done. Deal?" His voice is full of vitriolic flirting, if that description makes any sense. He crushes the drone and the screen becomes static. Sherry turns to you with a devious smirk.

"Oh, he's so kinky for you." She uses her deep voice and leans into you, wrapping an arm around your back. Your cheeks burn red. "You must have something special, huh? How else did you end up with a big dom daddy like--"

"Oh my fuck, please stop Sherry!" You burst from embarrassment, burying your face in your knees as you pull into your frame. "I can't handle you two teaming up."

She laughs, but not sadistically for once. She gives you a quick hug, a pat on the back, and changes the channel to the other, working camera drone.

"I'm fine, but I have another favor to ask." Revenant's voice brings you out of your human sphere. You don't recognize this area, it's not considered a hot spot.

"You're really pushing your luck today, rustbin." Wraith stays stoic about the whole thing, attaching a scope to a Havoc.

"Let's hear him out. What is it? I cannot promise I will agree to anything, though." Wattson is undeniably kind, but sounds like she's trying to be stern.

"If Bloodhound survives to the end with us, let me single them out and fight them alone. If I fail to finish them, you can kill them and take the match without me." Revenant plans to do what he originally teased you about: defeat your first favorite Legend. How did he find out it was Bloodhound? Or does he even know?

"The chances of that seem unreasonably low, and it seems quite risky, but if you really want to I will respect your wishes." Wattson says as she rummages through a supply bin, picking up some shield cells and batteries.

"The chances are actually strangely high..." Wraith almost mutters as she loads her Havoc. "Did you bribe some people to throw or something?"

"No, I gave the Hunter a challenge." Revenant says as he begins adding improvements to his RE-45, making a satisfying chunking sound as his mag extender slots in. "My mind is on making a spectacle of our battle, and the only thing on the Hunter's mind is surviving until they can kill me. Call it actualization."

"Yeah, you'd have no reason to pay your way to the top, you enjoy this too much." Wraith tests her scope by looking down the sights, apparently pleased with her meager kit for now. "Alright team, we need more equipment, let's move."

They all begin to move towards an area known as The Harvester. You had been dragged there and touched all the controls, doors, and climbed an excessive amount of the area. It makes you tired to even think about it.

"So, I have some actual questions though." Sherry brings your attention out of the television, so you turn towards her. There's not much point in watching until there are gunshots anyway. Otherwise they're just going to be finding more gear. "What happened to your leg?" She points to the puncture wounds on your calf.

"Oh, um--well..." You accidentally revealed it when you pulled your leg up on the couch. "He has a thing where he can't control himself for a few seconds after he reboots." She pauses, processing your response. It is a really odd string of words to put together.

"So... he's homicidal, and if you don't get away--"

"No, not homicidal. There is zero chance of that. More like possessive and overly passionate about it." You hope it makes sense. She pauses again, trying to process the meaning behind the words.

"So it's a sexual thing?" Of course she gets it all wrong.

"No, more like a 'nobody can have you' kind of thing, and then he got too worked up and clenched too hard."

"So... are you sure about this whole thing? What if this keeps happening? That's not okay." She seems genuinely concerned, and a bit unhappy.

"It was an accident, honestly. Sort of like tripping into someone and knocking them over." You try to make it as mild-seeming as possible, but you know she won't fully buy it. She sighs, crosses her arms, and shrugs a little. That's enough acceptance for now.

"So, follow-up question: are you sure you're safe?" It might as well be the same question, but you relent.

"I'm pretty certain."

"That's a horrible answer!" Obviously she'd be a bit upset that it's not complete certainty, but how can you lie to her? Nothing is completely certain.

"It's complicated, but this is a risk I'm absolutely willing to take." You surprise yourself with your own calmness. "I know this seems insane, but my life has only been better for every crazy decision I've made, and I need this to happen. Life is short these days, even if I die I want to do something better than nothing." Sherry stares at you with a dumbfounded look, apparently impressed by your short speech.

"I guess that makes sense, but if stuff gets too violent... please leave." She averts her gaze, looking down at her feet.

"I promise, but really, I'm quite happy." You hug her, and she hugs you back for a moment.

"So he must be really good in bed then, huh?" She ruins the moment, she absolutely has to. It's practically her purpose in life at this point.

"I don't know, to be honest." You try to sound as serious as possible to avoid further teasing.

"What? Are you kidding? He makes it sound like you guys are fu--"

"Don't say it please." You put your face in your hands, questioning why you're still so easily embarrassed by these things. You're always blushing, which seems to goad people like Revenant and Sherry into teasing you. It is a little fun, though. Their power trip of teasing seems to make them both so happy, and in a weird way you share in that happiness as a willing victim.

"Well, okay, but I hope you get some soon," she snickers, "Honestly I don't think it'll be much longer now, anyway."

Gunshots ring out on the television.

"I've taken hits! If you've got a sniper, try to cover me!" Wraith sounds hurt, despite phasing towards the opponents on a hill nearby. Revenant pulls a Longbow he must have found recently, doing his best to take shots at the opponents while Wraith closes the gap. The scope must not be the best, because you can clearly see his stature get frustrated as he whiffs his shots. The return fire seems just as poor, hitting at Revenant's feet and the wall behind him, leaving gaping bullet holes. Suddenly, you hear a crack as Revenant's shot lands, then another.

"One closest to you is weak," he quickly states.

"Got it, engaging." Wraith barely finishes her statement before she's downed her opponent. Without the fancy graphics of the public broadcast, you're not sure who is on the enemy team, especially with how far the drone is.

"Engaging on the opposite side! Someone is alone!" Wattson suddenly appears on the opposite side as Wraith, immediately engaging another body as Wraith moves in towards the final contender in the middle. The gunshots are really going now, but the camera drone has been staying near Revenant, who is hanging back taking sniper shots.

"I'm down, but he's hurting!" Wattson's voice comes over comms, prompting Revenant to switch to his RE-45 and sprint to close the distance. The drone lags behind slowly, not closing enough distance to make out the opponents.

Wraith curses over the audio as she and her opponent go down simultaneously, leaving one weakened contender to Revenant. He's closing the gap excessively fast; it looks like they're trying to use a med kit.

"I'm not wasting the bullet." You definitely watch Revenant's silhouette stab the other before the med kit is finished, prompting the whole team to be deathboxed. The drone suddenly kicks into high speed, catching up to Revenant. It makes sense that the drones shouldn't give away positions, but this was a little frustrating at times. They either have to stay side-by-side or it has to hang back.

Revenant goes to Wraith first, pulling a medical syringe in his fist. He pauses, looking down on her for a moment. He twirls the syringe in his fingers, stopping it so his thumb lands on the plunger and his pointer and middle finger brace the flange on the barrel. He kneels down to her, pinches the muscle near her shoulder, and injects it quickly. He tosses the empty needle in a different pocket on his belt and helps her to her feet. Wraith is staring at him with a strange but subtle smile. He huffs at her and turns to tend to Wattson.

"So you did pay attention." Wraith sounds soft for a moment, but it doesn't get a reaction out of Revenant, who is doing the same to Wattson.

"Have you ever thought of the long term effects of all these injections?" Wattson asks as Revenant helps her up.

Wraith clears her throat loudly, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, it can do crazy things for sure." Wraith says with a heavy layer of frustration.

"Oh, I am so sorry, I did not mean to dredge up old memories." Wattson shakes her hands in front of her as a motion of apology.

"Yeah, science these days tends to be used to ruin the lives of as many people as possible." Revenant adds.

They all stand there in a circle, silent. It's not an awkward silence, it's a mournful silence. Revenant's stare is deep in the distance. Wraith's body language exudes frustration over past traumas. Wattson looks at the ground, almost like in secondhand guilt for being a woman of science. The stillness hangs for an uncomfortable amount of time, before Wraith breaks it.

"Nothing we can do, we are who we are now." She sighs. "We're top seven now. We need to find some other deathboxes and pick up better gear. We're going to stay sneaky until we're down to the last two." She immediately begins running towards the center of the new circle, close to the giant ice-like structure known as the Epicenter. Revenant and Wattson immediately move to follow. More boring running for a while.

"Who do you think was on that team?" Sherry asks, understanding that there's not much point in watching these segments.

"I'm not sure either. Sneaky play is boring, but I can't argue with the results. I'm going to run and get snacks, do you want anything?" You stand up, wanting to move around after a long while of sitting. Sherry immediately lays down on the couch, taking up all the space you left.

"Sure, give me anything with that cheese powder crack on it." She shoots you finger guns.

• • • •

"Sherry, I'm not getting you more chips."

"Please?"

"No, you've literally had three and a half bags, you're covered in cheese dust, and I'm pretty sure you're an addict. How strong is your metabolism, anyway?" You're brushing dust off the couch, at this rate you might as well get a vacuum. You ate a half, and then Sherry destroyed the rest plus all the other bags you got. You wonder how on earth she keeps her thinner figure like this. She must be cut from a completely different cloth than you.

"I have the same metabolism as all of my tapeworms." She stretches, and attempts to wipe the dust off her pants. "Sadly this has been pretty uneventful so far. They're being so careful. Three teams left now, and it looks and sounds like the other two are fighting it out." The gunshots are weak and in the distance.

"We're kitted as best as we can be, we should approach this like we did last time." Wraith has a 30-30 Repeater now, extremely well-modded.

"Did you notice that we're in the circle and they are not? We should set up a bit of an obstacle course here!" Wattson chirps.

"We can actually use it to attract our opponents and engage them from afar too." Wraith is beginning to smile, seeing a good path to victory.

"Leave Bloodhound for me." Revenant mumbles, just as a reminder.

"You'll get your wish, we've got this." Wraith's smile is unusual for her, but it's hard not to be at least a little happy in the face of such a massive victory.

Wattson begins setting up electric gates in the area as the circle closes in from the distance, creating a strange set of gates around the Survey Camp, trying to get around and weave through cover. Wraith finds a spot away from the tangled mess, Revenant joining her.

"Do you think they'll win?" You hold your breath, not as sure as Wraith is.

"Of course, Wattson is with them!" Sherry pumps her fists together as if she didn't just eat an inhuman amount of crisps. How can she move so jovially with a stomach that must weigh as much as a brick?

Gunshots ring out, Revenant takes sniper shots at the last remaining team as they escape the incoming heat wall.

"Why did you give our position away!?" Wraith punches him in the shoulder, but he doesn't flinch.

"Use your portal to charge them, hit Bloodhound in the leg, and come back immediately through the portal. Let them follow." Revenant has no fluctuations in his voice. He's dead serious.

"This better work!" Wraith yells as she disappears, leaving a strange portal hole next to Revenant.

"Wattson, come throw down your Interceptor Pylon here, we need to make sure they come into the portal after Wraith." Revenant seems to have thought this through, but why does he want to fight up close?

Wattson throws it down and it immediately stops an incoming Knuckle Cluster, barely getting it up and running in time. Some incoming grenades meet the same fate.

"Excellent, thank you Wattson." Revenant sounds excited. Wattson pauses in minor confusion.

"You're... thanking me? You never do tha--"

Wraith appears in front of Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic. She pulls out her 30-30 Repeater and nails Bloodhound in the leg, taking many shots herself before retreating into the portal. Bloodhound takes a knee and begins using a med kit as Caustic and Fuse jump into the portal.

Revenant is unarmed on the other side, all his guns, grenades, recovery tools, and ammo on the ground around him. He's holding his sharpened arm right up against the portal's center, practically posing. Fuse first appears and is immediately skewered through the chest, exhaling in surprise. Revenant flicks his entire arm to the side, causing Fuse's corpse to fly off to the side, blood spewing everywhere out of the hole in his chest. He is deathboxed before he hits the ground. Revenant's other hand is already poised for an encore.

Caustic comes through second, taking the sharpened point in the neck. The blood is immediate and generous. Revenant lifts his body off his feet, letting the blood roll down his stabbing arm and drip everywhere. Caustic drops a live Gas Grenade as he dies, spitting blood. Revenant throws his body in much the same manner, and Caustic is deathboxed midair.

"Well, shit, that worked." Wraith has almost healed her injuries completely, Wattson watching over her and armed to the teeth. "I guess the rest is all yours, maniac."

"Do not make us wait too long, please! I am looking forward to this win!" Wattson helps Wraith up and begins to run in the other direction to escape the spreading gas.

Revenant immediately starts sprinting towards Bloodhound in a straight line with no gear of any kind. Not even a gun. He's thoroughly coated in fresh blood and looks like a monstrosity, surely he's going to be shot down.

"Is he trying to die?!" Sherry screams at the television. "They almost have it! What even is this?!" You wish you could defend Revenant, but in truth you have the same questions.

No gunshots come though. Bloodhound stands there, newly recovered thanks to their med kit. They're situated right near the tangle of electrical gates, arms crossed and waiting patiently. It doesn't take long for Revenant to meet them, standing tall and unarmed a few feet away, locking their gaze. Bloodhound begins throwing their guns, grenades, health items, and ammo to the side. They finish, staring down their opponent in a strange silence. You're glad you're on a private channel, this would be ruined by any crowd sounds or commentators talking over it.

Finally, Bloodhound reaches behind them and pulls out a beautiful axe. It looks ancient but well-maintained, certainly a relic from their sordid history as a hunter.

"Congratulations kill leader, how many did you kill to get to this moment?" Revenant asks.

"Fourteen bodies lay behind me." Bloodhound states very plainly. That's an insane number. Revenant growls happily at their answer. "I have fought hard to meet this moment. I will confess, you are more clever than I expected. I am sorry for underestimating you before. You brought your apprentice here and ensured she left her scent everywhere, then disguised yourself with the same scent."

You're stunned into silence. All that running around was to literally make it impossible for Bloodhound to hunt by scent alone. You almost felt happy to be a small part of this, in some way, but also a little frustrated at how hard that day was. It explains why Revenant took your shirt before, why it came back so grimy, why you had to touch everything, and why he wasn't upset that you drooled all over his mane. Is this simulacrum also a conniving genius?

"I noticed you didn't use your sonar to find me earlier." Revenant pries a little.

"It would be disrespectful to the honor of this hunt." Bloodhound is beginning to sound excited in a bloodthirsty manner. "You also have come unarmed, so I meet your challenge as my ancestors would."

Bloodhound shimmers the blade of the axe in the sunlight, proudly caressing its blade. They've got one knife, an axe, and their wits. Nothing more.

Revenant begins to sidestep, Bloodhound sidestepping to match, never leaving each other's gaze. They're circling each other, neither making the first move. Bloodhound breaks the silence with a thunderous declaration.

"May the Allfather bless this hunt!" They lunge forward, axe at the ready.

Revenant leaps to the side, avoiding them, immediately lunging to counter. His giant maw is wide open, going straight for Bloodhound's head. Bloodhound ducks, and plunges one of their smaller knives into Revenant's gut. They push the knife in hard enough that Revenant buckles at the torso and falls backwards, letting the knife slide out in Bloodhound's grasp.

Revenant's clawed foot hits Bloodhound right in the breathing mask, causing them to stumble backwards long enough for Revenant to get on his feet. Revenant lunges again, but uses his arm length to pick Bloodhound up and toss them through the electrified fence. Bloodhound lands on the other side, obviously hurting. A knife comes flying through the fence and chunks into Revenant's chest. Revenant grabs at it, clearly in pain from both his hits so far. He leaves it in despite his pain, knowing that Bloodhound can't have it back this way without getting close.

Revenant strafes to the side to see around the electric fence just to find nothing there. They've vanished in the web. Revenant begins to prowl around the inside of the fence with all its jagged nooks, looking for anything. Revenant keeps turning to look behind him, clearly expecting some kind of attack from behind. The heat wall closes in on the fenced in area, leaving only half of the area available. Revenant watches as the wall moves up close to his face, then begins to turn to leave.

Bloodhound leaps onto Revenant's back from behind the heat wall, their garb charred a bit from hiding beyond it. Bloodhound gets their axe around Revenant's throat and pulls so the handle begins to choke him, but Revenant throws himself backwards into the heat wall, burning Bloodhound. They shove the axe upwards in an uppercut-like fashion, stunning Revenant so they have time to dismount and leave the heat wall before swinging for another blow. The axe lands in Revenant's hip, but Revenant grabs it and holds it in place, lunging forward with his open jaw to bite. Bloodhound jumps back, avoiding the bite, but losing their axe in the process.

Bloodhound shows no fear, immediately lunging for Revenant's lower body, taking advantage of his shifted center of gravity and forcing him to fall forward, right on the knife in his chest. Revenant emits a horrid sound which is only compounded when Bloodhound pulls the axe from his hip. Bloodhound swings for the head, but Revenant shifts so his horn takes the brunt. Revenant grabs Bloodhound's leg and in one swift motion gets to his feet and throws Bloodhound like a ragdoll across the field, away from the fences. Revenant sprints towards them, leaning so far forward that he's nearly on all fours. It's bestial. Bloodhound is able to sit up just in time to save themself from a massive bite, but only by shoving their axe in Revenant's jaw to force it to stay open.

Revenant takes the opportunity to get his hands around Bloodhound's neck, claws fully out. Bloodhound retaliates by using their free arm to pull the knife from Revenant's chest, causing him to reel in pain. He still is unable to close his mouth, and Bloodhound isn't choking fast enough to save him from getting his throat slashed by the now freed knife. Revenant is forced to release Bloodhound completely and staggers backwards, holding his own throat now instead. You could be mistaken, but it looked like the inside of his mouth might have been injured from biting the axe too.

Bloodhound immediately throws the knife again, hitting Revenant in the thigh. He falls to a knee, giving Bloodhound enough time to get up and lunge, landing the axe right in Revenant's mask. With a twist of the wrist, their axe is free and Revenant's mask is cracked. Revenant's pain seems to convert to adrenaline, as he lets go of his throat and grabs Bloodhound's leg out from underneath them, causing them to land on the back of their head before Revenant goes in for a stab. Bloodhound deflects Revenant's arm stab with their axe. Revenant's arm chunks into the ground next to Bloodhound's head instead.

Revenant is making a disconcerting wheezing noise. There's tons of damage all over his body, and the pain must be unreal at this point. Bloodhound is banged up too, taking mostly concussive damage to the head. Their chest rises and falls rapidly, but you can't hear them pant through the breathing mask. Despite all the apparent hurt, you do not expect either of them are done.

Revenant lunges down for the bite and nails it this time, his maw right around Bloodhound's head. Bloodhound is bleeding immediately, but takes the opportunity to pull the knife again from his thigh. Revenant, now wise to the possibilities, uses his whole body to fling Bloodhound by their head to the side. Revenant is finally able to stand up completely, but he limps a little.

Bloodhound's head is bleeding pretty badly now, their blood splattered on the ground from being bit and thrown. They quickly get to their feet but quiver a bit while doing so. They seem confident now having their knife and axe at their side again.

"Allfather is pleased by this battle." Bloodhound states very factually. "Were it not for my weapons, I surely would have lost this fight long ago."

"Hate to break it to you, but you're still going to lose." Revenant's voice sounds wispy from exhaustion. He limps closer, and Bloodhound stands their ground.

Revenant ignores his limp just long enough to lunge, this time claws out and jaw open. Bloodhound sidesteps, but Revenant recovers quickly and turns to lunge again. Bloodhound is ready, and uses both the knife and the axe to stab and brutally chunk into his back as they take a massive bite to the waist, as well as an arm stab to the thigh. Bloodhound just begins wailing his blades into Revenant's back, who seems unwilling to release the hold he has. Bloodhound's waist is dripping blood and the cloth on their outfit is soaked crimson. Revenant's body seems to be giving out on him, but not before Revenant uses his spare arm for a stab towards the chest.

Bloodhound clearly plans to take it. They're unable to dodge or move, but before Revenant can land the blow, Bloodhound plunges the knife into Revenant's throat. Revenant's stab finishes, but his chassis goes limp right as Bloodhound is deathboxed from the stab to the chest.

The final camera shot of the fight is of Revenant's bestial chassis limply hanging off the edge of Bloodhound's deathbox, his head resting on the top like a mourner on a coffin. Then Revenant is deathboxed, ending the match.

The camera shifts to Wraith and Wattson who were watching the fight from afar, now waving in victory to the camera and celebrating. Wattson holds a Nessie plush toy over her head in victory, but where did it come from? As the camera zooms in, you see she's surrounded by a few. What the heck?

Sherry and you sit, stunned in silence. Sherry changes the channel to the public broadcast, and you hear the crowds reeling in cheers at the primal violence they just got to enjoy. The commentators are losing their minds over the ending, calling it 'The Allfather's Hunt' and practically gushing at the seams over the imagery of the Hunter and the Prey dying together. Wraith and Wattson are showered in confetti and champagne, although Wraith doesn't seem as much into the celebrations as Wattson is. Revenant really did make a spectacle out of the whole thing. Nobody was going to care about 'Loba the Scalper' after this.

Sherry seems conflicted. Normally she would be on her feet, screaming loud enough to warrant a noise complaint whenever Wattson wins. However, now she seems worried over what she just saw. She turns to you.

"This guy can and might kill you." She speaks very quickly and quietly. "I just watched him kill with no weapons, just brute strength. He can throw people and crush them and stab them and bite them, and he can absolutely break every bone in your body if he wanted." She looks down at her hands, as if to soak in the frailty of humanity. "I don't want you to end up like that."

"Sherry, I know. Trust me, I do. He's the strongest, most terrifying person I've ever met, but I'm not and will never be his target." You speak confidently. "He finds some kind of comfort in me and has taken a liking to me. He will not intentionally hurt me. Unintentionally it may happen, but he seems to know how to handle that when it does happen."

Sherry sighs.

"Do you love this guy that much?" She asks.

You pause. It's not a word you've really used yet to describe how you feel. Like, sure, but not full-on love. You think about it. You don't like throwing that word around.

"I am that fond of him, yes." You finally say. "I just want to see where it goes."

"If you're sure, just please don't get gored." Sherry stands up, a concerned look still plastered on her face. "I'm going to go clean and decorate Wraith and Wattson's room for them. I would do this one too, but Revenant never seems to like it."

"Thanks for hanging out, Sherry. Don't worry, I'll be okay, I promise."

Sherry nods a little, then leaves the room, allowing you to stretch and relax until Revenant gets back. You wonder how long it will take this time.

• • • •

It's mid-afternoon, by now all the broadcasts should be finished up on all the different planets, where it should be later in the day. Morning matches are a theme here, but it lines up perfectly with the end-of-the-workweek evenings for other planets. It also means the lighting during the match is perfect. Sometimes the broadcast will be held off to make sure it shows at prime time on each planet, but that always means tourism to the planets where it's shown live is excessive.

Right about now, this planet should be clearing out from everyone who wanted to watch the Apex Game live today. Talos probably had it worse today, if you can call tons of tourism worse. After all, they must make bank in souvenirs, assuming the locals are one to sell souvenirs. You question if the people Bloodhound came from would be the type to do so. Probably not. Anyone who is willing to though: they must be rich.

It's been a few hours and despite last time, you cannot shake the anxiety that Revenant might never come back.

There's a knock at the door, to which you quickly go and open it.

"Oh, hello, just dropping this off, as requested!" This stout but strong mustached man with permanently squinted eyes rolls in a large deathbox on a caddy. He must work in a different section of the volunteers than you did, otherwise you would recognize him. He carefully lays the deathbox on the floor. You move to help, but remember when Revenant collapsed on you and realize you're not strong enough for this. This guy is impressively strong to be able to carry it. He wipes a bead of sweat from his head after finishing, and begins to roll his caddy out.

"Have a nice day ma'am!" He waves goodbye and shuts the door after himself. You turn to stare down at the deathbox.

Open it.

You want so badly to open it. You have to know. Yes, you need to know. Does his chassis really have all the parts a human does, or was his flirtatious teasing all a grand bluff?

Open it.

This box may not contain all the answers, but perhaps it can solve that one question. Does he really like you that way? Is it possible that he could like you that way? Or is it possible regardless of his body?

Open it.

Is this an invasion of privacy? Probably, but since when has he given you the same courtesy? If you're lucky enough, he won't be back in time to even notice.

Open it.

However, you don't think it's right. You meander to the bed and sit down, turning on the television to see more of the commotion. They're not going to stop talking about 'The Allfather's Hunt' anytime soon. This isn't a good distraction.

Open it.

Forget it, you start flipping through the channels. There's some sickeningly optimistic and colorful kid's show. Now it's news, listing off dozens of people murdered just in the city streets yesterday, per usual. Now it's a show about an unsolved murder from a few years ago. Now it's a documentary about the Frontier War. This isn't working.

Open it.

You grab your badge out of your pocket and leave the room, freezing outside of the door. Right, there's not a single soul back from the medical bay to talk to. You didn't know Wattson well enough to go knock on her door, and you're not sure where Wraith was moved to after Revenant busted her door. Even if you did, you don't know her that well either.

Open it.

You scan your card and reenter Revenant's room, stagger over to the box, and mess with the latch. Once unlocked, a button releases the door and it springs open.

Tears well up in your eyes. Why did you do this to yourself? He's lifeless, bent up into a tangle of limbs and parts to fit into the box. What did you expect? He looks like an old sarcophagus that was forcefully shoved into a box he could not fit in. His corpse is so beautiful, but so empty and void of life simultaneously, like an art piece left to rot in the elements. You can't help yourself. You have to get him out of there.

You move to one side of the box and leverage your legs to begin tipping the box. It's very heavy, but you have to do this. The box tips over its center of balance and rotates the rest of the way over, spilling Revenant's corpse onto the floor. You pull the box back upright so the opening faces the ceiling again, and get back up to run over to his body. His chassis is laid out now like a more normal corpse would be, although his limbs have fallen where they may.

You crouch down, letting your tears hit the chassis with a hollow thumping sound. You hold his hand, but there's nothing: no squeeze, no sharp points, not even a bashful resistance to such an act of affection. No amount of knowledge that he will come back can fix how you feel right now.

You struggle to pull his body into your lap. This may be lighter than his classic metal body, but it's still difficult to move it around. You silently weep, finally getting his crushing weight on your legs. You lean forward into his nuzzle and rub it, hoping for that awkwardly stifled joy he shows when he likes something. There's nothing, his eyes are void.

You begin to cry out loud.

You carefully cradle his head, ignoring the matted fur in the way. You rock back and fourth, crying into his cheek and begging him internally to wake up. The tears flow around and into the giant crack in his mask. He had wounds all over him, and you trace your fingers around each one. Hope is worthless; it can't fix him. You touch his horns he seemed so proud of. There's a massive break in one of them and the horn is almost loose off his skull. So much damage. So much pain. Your crying gets louder.

Why did you open it? Why did you have to be curious? At first you just wanted to look to see if he was bluffing about this body having sexual mods. You didn't bargain for the excessive and overwhelming grief of seeing him dead. You rock his body, mourning in utter despair, cradling his head so close to your chest that it hurts. You squeeze your eyes shut to try to hold back the tears, but it flows right through. Maybe not seeing the body will help.

You continue to sob and rock him for what feels like an hour. In truth, it's probably only ten or so minutes. It hurts so bad, even with your eyes closed the image might as well be etched on your eyelids. Your nose is stopped up from the crying, but you cannot find the energy to try to wipe it so it can breathe again. Your only air flows through your mouth in painfully hitched gasps between sobs of agony.

Suddenly, something cold and metal begins wiping away your tears.

You wince in surprise, but as you open your eyes you see nothing. You look side to side, panning the entire room, but there really is nothing. The door didn't open, you would have heard that. If Revenant was here, you would have seen him, right? You make sure to turn fully around and look behind you, maybe he's in your blind spot. No, nothing. What even was that? You turn back around.

You take a deep breath and sigh in disappointment, a few more tears escaping your eyes.

Hands cup around your cheeks, drying them again. You look up. He's on the ceiling, attached by his feet, but holding his hands downward to touch you. He's back in his normal, red body. He carefully releases himself from the ceiling one leg at a time, being careful to step behind you. He curls around you in a hug so your back is against him. He carefully pulls you backwards so the chassis in your lap rolls off of you, and he envelops you in his cool embrace. He uses a foot to push the corpse further away from you. He grabs your jaw to force you to face him as he leans his head forward to look at you.

"Why are you crying?" His voice is plain and without emotion, but his face--his eyes--have life. You begin to cry again in some kind of disbelief, forcing your body to turn towards him and hug him back. You grip the red straps on his chest and press your face against his metal torso, letting the tears roll down him. You won't let go. This one is alive.

He brushes your hair with his claws, lightly scratching your scalp as he does. His other hand rubs into your back, careful to press into your spine and knead it. His legs bunch up and cross around you.

"I was secretly hoping you would snoop around in my deathbox, looking for something you shouldn't." He sighs into your ear. "Instead you cry over me. What a disappointment when I was hoping to catch you being naughty. Do you really feel that attached to me already?" He squeezes you a little, but you can't stop crying to answer him. "You must, otherwise you wouldn't cry for me like this, despite knowing I will always come back."

He continues to try to soothe you as best as he can. He's warmed up and is now reflecting heat back at you. He nuzzles his mask into your shoulder. He takes breaks from brushing your hair to try to wipe away any tears that'd don't make it onto his chest.

"Idiot." He lets out a small chuckle. "You're making me soft." You can't respond, but your tears are finally beginning to run dry. "You know, they say the best way to know if you're loved is to attend your own funeral. Obviously, that's impossible for most. Thank you for attending mine, and showing me this." He unwraps his legs, scoops his arms under you, and stands as he lifts you up with him. You refuse to let go of his straps, although your arms have to extend to hold on as you lie back in his hold.

He brings you over to the bed and lays you down carefully. He touches his mask to your forehead, and begins to pull away. He catches on your grip on his straps. You're still trembling a bit and probably still have that ugly crying face you're self-conscious of, but you can't help it. He carefully starts to pry your fingers off of the straps, but you grip even harder. You're not letting go. You won't let go. What if he leaves?

He sighs, recognizing your distress. He lets go of your fingers and scoops you back up again, this time so you're sitting against his shoulder. He's so excessively strong, he barely even seems to be bothered by the weight of you. He walks you over to the computer desk and sits down with you, leaving you in his lap. His hands wrap around you and begin typing on a keyboard. You carefully touch his face, not paying attention to what he's doing.

He pauses, looks to you, and takes your hand for a moment. He pulls it to the ridge of his mask that has a lip-like tint and angle, pressing the back of your hand into it for a moment before releasing your hand and returning his attention to the computer.

For the first time since you opened that deathbox, you trust what you're seeing. He's back, he's alive, and he's okay. You let your body limply lean into his shoulder, release his straps, and let him handle your weight with his body. You close your eyes and remember how to breathe normally. There's no reason to have a panic attack anymore.

"Take a nap. You're more exhausted than I am somehow. I'll wake you up soon." You feel his hand forcefully guide your head over his shoulder where it can rest comfortably. "Don't argue with me, now. Just do as I say."

You really are exhausted from all the excitement and emotion. You snuggle up against him as he shifts his body to fit your comfort. He makes a slow, heavy breathing sound in rhythm with his typing, and occasionally lightly runs his fingers over your bare skin. You're gone soon after.

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