#92
tw: death
It’s cold. Someone shifts in the edges of the villain’s vision. Their breaths come out short and forced; each one threatening to be their last. Something bumps against their leg but they barely feel it. They can barely feel anything.
“Fuck,” someone hisses. The villain can hardly hear them. Their blood is pumping much too loudly in their ears. Something thick and crimson smudges across their palms. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to—”
There’s a moment of blissful nothing. It’s almost peaceful enough to fall asleep in. Then: “I’m so sorry, I– I didn’t—”
Footsteps. Receding. The person in the villain’s peripheral disappears and their voice dissipates into stark silence.
Exhaustion drags at the villain’s eyes. Everything around them is too far away. Their own thoughts are drifting dangerously close to nothing.
“Gosh,” a voice says from somewhere nearby. “You don’t half make yourself difficult to look after, do you?”
What? is what tries to come out of the villain’s mouth, but all their body can force out is a confused groan.
“I wish you would’ve considered a life of, I don’t know, normalcy and general lawfulness,” the voice continues. The villain can see them, kind of, standing at their feet. “I tried to force it down you as a teenager but… you know. Teenagers don’t listen.”
The stranger squats down in front of them, their head tilted to the side almost in curiosity. A white sheet spills at their feet. “Then again, I wasn’t expecting a hero to flat out stab you.” They chuckle, the sound reverberating harshly in the villain’s ears. “How novel.”
“Who…” is the furthest the villain can force their next question.
“Ah.” The person shuffles slightly. “I’m no one to worry about. I’ll introduce myself properly when you’re… lucid.”
The prospect of sleep is much too alluring for lucidity to be a possibility. The world has shrunken down to the villain at the stranger rambling at them by now. Their side hurts, and they can’t be bothered to remember why.
The person flops down on the ground with a sigh. Lower down, the villain can just about make out their face. Warm, kind; a bright smile beams at them. They’re pristine, beautiful, a world away from how the villain feels.
They momentarily see a flash of glaring white from behind the person as they settle, but they’re so dazed now that they might as well be imagining it.
“I’ll wait for you,” they say casually. “I’m sure you won’t be too long now, from the looks of you.”
Wait for what? The villain’s pretty sure they’re dying. Cold and fatigue creep in from all angles. They’re not going anywhere.
“Where…” The villain stops short again, their voice failing them, but the stranger seems to understand perfectly. Their smile widens slightly, and the villain somehow feels safe knowing they’re here. Like the first flower of spring is growing despite the claws of winter around it.
“We’re going to the other side,” the person says with a laugh like church bells, “and I’m pissed I have to take you there so early.”
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No but… imagine if Merlin (BBC) just cared a little less. Gauis is out there already telling Arthur that Merlin spends all his spare time in the tavern, so why not run with that?
Merlin turns up one morning looking like shit from whatever monster of the week he spent his Friday night fighting, wearing the costume of Merlin from the sword in the stone and no one questions it because yeah. That’s Merlin. Got shitfaced and probably beat up a chair. What of it
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Trick, or, treat? 🎃🦇
Admittedly, Benjamin did not celebrate H.allow's Eve. He knew certain people would sing for treats, and, heaven forbid, play tricks to imitate the shenanigans of unfriendly spirits, but that's about where his knowledge all began and ended.
"Uh..." Furrowing his brow, he gripped his doorframe while appraising the stranger with caution. They didn't appear ready to torment him with tricks, but he also knew that appearances could be deceiving. He'd spent an entire w.ar pretending to be someone else -- perhaps he and this stranger weren't so different, after all.
"I'm afraid I don't have any treats to offer," he finally said, "and I'd appreciate it if you didn't trick this household. I just got my children settled in for the night."
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☎️ 𝙶𝙷𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙱𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂, 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙳𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃? || Tracey perked her head sideways just a little bit. "What even is this 'smash or pass' thing, anyway?" || @flawed---by---design
❝ It's an apparent trend among a portion of the populace - a way of asking someone if you'd engage in sexual intercourse with them or not. ❞
❝ ...You were better off not knowing, to be honest. ❞
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you know you’ve been watching too many ancient history documentaries when you read someone’s bio that says “equestrian” and your first thought isn’t “modern horse rider” but “they’re declaring themself as one class below the senatorial class in ancient rome?”
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EVEN IN MY OWN SKIN IT'S LIKE I'M NEVER HOME. An independent, selective & mutual only MIKE WHEELER pulled away from netflix’s Stranger Things, and adapted to various different verses. Leaning into horror themes. Canon divergent & heavily headcanon influenced. Haunted by the void cryptid Winter ( 30+. they / them ).
A STUDY IN : lost childhood ;; putting everyone first but yourself ;; anger is better than grief ;; the art of not fitting in ;; not knowing who the real you is ;; clawing your chest wide open to find yourself ;; the fear of being left behind ;; hiding the pain behind humor ;; becoming friend with the monsters under your bed ;; wearing your heart on your sleeves ;;
affiliated with: tbd
» carrd. » headcanons. » memes. » promo. » multi.
» wire ;; mikewheelertm
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idk about other ace people but i swear like every depiction of nuns in movies/tv shows is like “oh they are secretly the h*rniest mfers alive” and im just like ???? perfect opportunity to have an ace character but nooooo the allos have to have eVeRyOnE
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