#fuck jacko hes an Asshole

[small-spark-of-light]

POV: infectat almost dies again

[jtownraindancer]

"My darling."

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [27]

Masterlist

Warning: gore ;)

~^*^~

Stalking down the hallway, Jack was in a fury. Trust Daniel to take advantage of a desperate situation. Turning the corner, Jack almost collided with a very familiar person.

“Hi Jacko!” She beamed.

“Don’t call me that.” Jack grumbled.

“Oh,” her eyes landed on Dracula, “hello again, you.” Immediately, her eyes glossed over. She was clearly trying to flirt.

“Hello again, Chelsea.” Dracula smiled, which faded when Jack glared sharply at him. He didn’t know what had happened but considering how badly Jack’s nostrils were flaring, it wasn’t good.

“I’m surprised to see you here. Considering the situation, I thought you’d broken up with [First].”

“They did.” Jack replied for Dracula, and Chelsea sent him a look as if to say ‘shut it!’

“Shame. Well, should you ever want another young adventure...”

“No thanks,” Dracula began, “I’m afraid I prefer my food a little less... handled.”

Her face immediately reddened and Jack had to admit that pride swelled in his chest. Dracula was slowly becoming a pro at comeback culture. Oh god, he wish he had a camera to take a picture of the shock and offence settling on Chelsea’s face because he knew that you of all people would have loved to see it. Thinking of you, he needed to hurry to the apartment.

Chelsea quickly composed herself to scowl at Dracula.

“You’re too old for me anyway, granddad.” Dracula chuckled at her words.

“Touched a nerve?” He teased with a low and soft voice.

“You wish.”

“You wish.”

“Alright!” Jack interjected nervously, “we need to go pick [First] up.”

As if on cue, the door halfway down the hallway burst open and a bag flew out, smashing against the wall and crashing to the floor. Following it, your voice, screaming all sorts of profanities. Okay, you were upset.

Dracula narrowed his eyes, pushing past the pair and making his way further down the hallway. Your voice was strangled and hoarse. Were you crying...?

A male’s voice came in, cutting off your own in an angry rant. Dracula did not know what had gone on, but nobody - nobody - made you cry. This green fuel coursing his body was unfamiliar. It was strange. He didn’t know why it burnt in the bottom of his chest, or why it was making his steps grow with each passing second. He just knew that he was about to grab this asshole speaking to you like you were nothing and throw him through a wall.

You stepped backwards, out of the door, still looking inside of the apartment. Your face was red with tears streaming down your face.

“Was this your plan all along?” You were trembling, “accept me into your life in my hour of desperation and just use me for a quick shag?!”

“We aren’t even dating! I don’t get why you’re so upset!”

“Because you- because you kept telling me how much you’d missed me! You kept begging me to give myself to you again! And I did and then- then- you bring that filth in! You fucked her like you fucked Lucy!”

So it was Daniel after all. Infamous Daniel who had shattered your heart. Dracula had to thank him in some respects. Had you not needed to flee to Whitby, you may have never met. Right now, Dracula couldn’t imagine waking up in the 21st century and not meeting you. How differently would it have gone? Would he still have had to kill Zoe? Would Jack even be here? Would Lucy have died?

Who knew? The only thing Dracula knew was the green seeping into his mind, and the red beginning to cloud his vision. Not a soul on this fucking planet was allowed to upset you.

“That’s- not fair.” Daniel’s voice softened.

“Is it not?!” You shrieked, “but you bringing that-!” You cut your self off with a noise of anger, running your hands through your scalp and tugging on the roots of your hair. You bit your lip, turning and freezing.

“Don’t let me halt you from finishing your sentence.” Dracula spoke, voice very soft. His eyes had also softened at the sight of you. You were at breaking point.

“Drac...?” your voice was so sweet, so hoarse. Dear god, you oozed sadness in every fibre of your being right now.

“Hello, darling.”

“Why did you bring him?” You were looking past him now, a furious gaze at Jack.

“I thought maybe you’d like to-“ Jack began.

“You thought wrong. You-“ you turned back to the apartment, pointing at the male who was still inside. Dracula had not seen him in person yet, “you can fucking rot in hell. If I ever see you again, I swear to god I will literally tear your voice box out of your throat.”

“[First]-“ Dracula began, but he was the next one to receive your anger.

“Don’t you even start. If you had just controlled yourself for once-! If you had just a tiny,” you motioned with your fingers, “tiny ounce of self control and left Renfield alone, this wouldn’t have happened!” You were in a rage, “I really don’t want to see you right now.”

Ouch.

“You’re being a right bitch, you know that?” Daniel’s voice came from the apartment and you flew into a fury. You turned, the bag that had fallen to the floor was in your hand and you launched it at him.

“Shut the fuck up, manwhore!”

“Um, ow?”

~^*^~

The guest bedroom at your parents’ house felt weird. You refused to sleep in your own bedroom, though.

In all honesty, you didn’t really know why you were angry at Dracula. You were just being... difficult. You were, of course, fully blaming him for turning Renfield, but how was anyone to know that Renfield would suddenly become obsessed with hunting you down? All of you knew that Dracula wouldn’t have turned him if this was the outcome. He probably would have fired him on the spot, had he known.

How had it gotten like this?

You wondered what Dracula was doing right now. After your outburst, he was either on his way to kill you himself in a possessive outburst of his own, or he was going to leave you and let Renfield find you. There was no way that he would possibly stand up for you now.

Oh, how wrong could you possibly have been...

A new box was sitting in the place of the old one - the centre of the room that usually remained locked. It was rocking violently. Dracula tutted. What a shame. He didn’t have any time to waste with his newest addition. Oh, no, he had somewhere very important to be. Anger had been bubbling in his chest all day. He looked quite disheveled, his usually neat white shirt untucked, the first few buttons undone, the sleeves lazily rolled up.

The drive to his destination was slow and bothersome. Rush hour traffic - especially in London - was a force to be reckoned with. Even against a vampire. But Dracula didn’t feel like making a magical entrance. He wanted to make sure he was understood, that his point would come across.

Too long, he had been bothered by this whole ordeal. Too long, the pain had been felt.

He was going to put a stop to it.

He remembered the way easily, slamming his car door and stalking forwards. This was going to be so fun. He smirked.

And then, he was at the door. He knocked.

“Who is it?” The voice called.

“Open the door and find out.” Dracula called back.

He heard a sound. Then silence. Perhaps he was expected to leave if the door didn’t open for him. He rolled his head, readying himself. Limber up. He was technically an OAP, after all. He’d need to ready his body.

Silence.

He stepped back, and then the sound, like an explosion as with all the force he had, he kicked the door in. It flew open, smashing against the wall, the handle lodging itself into the wall. Standing on the other side of the room, almost cowering, the being that made a snarl come from Dracula’s mouth. Undeath wouldn’t do. Utter destruction. That would be the only way.

“Hello, Daniel. We haven’t met. I’m Dracula.” He grinned, a demented kind of grin. The kind you’d associate with a murderer.

“You-...” how could he say anything?

“Cat got your tongue?”

“What are you doing here?”

Dracula took a good look at him. 5’7”, 8” at a push. He wasn’t very muscular, he’d be easy to overpower. He was trying his hardest to look intimidating, but Dracula, who just stood there, doing nothing at all, was clearly the alpha here.

“Well, you see, I just couldn’t stop thinking about the way you treated [First] today,” Dracula began, “or the last time you were with her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Boy, he couldn’t hide the terror in his voice no matter how hard he tried.

“You treat women like they’re nothing. You treat them like toys to be disposed of once you’ve had enough. [First], Lucy, Chelsea, goodness knows how many more...” Dracula turned, and Daniel watched as he plucked the door from the wall as if it were merely a dart, and shut it softly behind him. He closed in, towering above the younger, “you hurt her. You have no respect for her. I can’t let you get away with that.”

“You’re fucking crazy.” Daniel whispered.

“I’m crazy...?” Dracula amused, pulled up an eyebrow, “you dared to hurt the only thing a vampire cares about.”

“...vampire...? Now I know you’re batshit.”

“Actually, just bat.”

His eyes darkened. His lips curled. He was overcome with the anger, the jealousy, the sheer... whatever the fuck it was. It was all in his chest and the urge to just dive into ruining the pathetic man before him swallowed him whole.

The screams that filled the room would never have been able to truly disclose what occurred in that room. Limb from limb, Dracula tore Daniel apart, taking his sweet time. Starting with each of his fingers, moving to his toes. He wanted the pain to last as long as possible. Blood was already soaking the carpet, Daniel’s body shaking violently with the shock. Using his nails, Dracula ripped his skin to ribbons, creating such a mess of his form. The blood... for the first time, Dracula knew that it wasn’t worth tasting. He didn’t need to inherit any part of the filth that he was slowly picking apart. Instead, he let it colour the carpet crimson. Occasionally, ripping off a digit, a jet of red would spurt out, splashing the wall.

The screams that ripped through Daniel’s throat concealed the sound of flesh and skin and bone tearing away from each other as Dracula tore his left arm away.

“Never again will you wrap your arms around my [First].”

Daniel was close to fainting. No longer bearing toes or fingers or an arm. He was bleeding profusely. The pain throbbed through his whole body. It was so intense that every other sense was drowning away.

Next came his other arm, torn off wth just as much vigour and he collapsed to his knees, sobbing.

“I don’t think so.”

Digging his hands into the blond locks, Dracula pulled him back up to his feet. His nails cut into the skin, blood flowing over his fingers. How he was able to withstand the stench of the blood, he didn’t know.

“Stay there.”

Dracula stood back to admire his work. Blood was seeping down Daniel’s face, mixing with his tears, dripping from his chin. Where his arms should have been, blood was pouring, too. The white of the bones where his arms should have connected poked out, flesh rugged and torn. Mangled strands of muscle flailed as the body shook with the terror, the shock, the sobs, the screams of utter agony. He was finding it hard to stand with the lack of his toes, each little space where the toe should be losing blood by the second, the whites of the bones also showing.

Dracula snarled, moving forwards once more. Daniel recoiled, but Dracula reached out to grab his nose. A disgusting crack filled the room, followed by a high-pitched, pain filled scream. Dracula twisted, feeling the cartilage crack and bend to his will. He pulled. A long strand of skin, from the bridge of his nose to the top of his hairline came off with the cartilage. Blood erupted from the gaping hole in his face and his eyes rolled back. He collapsed to the ground.

But, he was still conscious.

Dracula took his time dismembering the rest of his body, and then sat for a while, picking the flesh off of the bone, as if bored. He was slumped against the radiator, which was hot against his back. His raven locks were dripping crimson, specks of the same colour on his face. The white shirt was stained a deep red all over and he knew that the moment he left this room, he’d cause uproar.

The room was beginning to really stink of blood and there were chunks of flesh everywhere, over every piece of furniture, the walls, the ceiling. The only thing still intact was his head, resting on the sofa, nose and ears gone, blood oozing from the bottom. Dracula had really made a mess.

His eyes snapped open.

What had he just done...?

What would you say when you found out?

~^*^~

If the fire in the middle of the room wasn’t a cause for concern, the naked vampire standing next to it definitely was.

“Jesus!” Jack cried out, covering his eyes with his hand, “did you suddenly forget that nudism isn’t exactly accepted in the 21st century?”

“Actually, I just had to do a little airing out with some of my clothes.” Dracula explained.

“Is that why you’re having a bonfire in the middle of the apartment?”

“Something like that.” Dracula turned away from Jack, who refused to uncover his eyes.

It was late, and he had simply come to tell Dracula that you were safely dropped off. He wanted to go home almost straight away, but something about the scene he had just walked into made him have a feeling that something wasn’t right.

“Why...?”

“I just told you-“

“No, why are you burning those clothes...? What did you do to them...?”

“I will tell you, Jack, but, you must promise not to fall out with me.” Dracula turned back to him and Jack uncovered his eyes, but held out his hand to block Dracula’s... well, you know, from his vision. The look of disgust was evident on his face.

“Dracula, what did you do?”

“I killed Daniel.”

Jack froze up in shock. Dracula had gone to Daniel’s apartment? Oh god, what was he going to tell you? Was Dracula out of his mind or was he just driven by stupidity? Of course, you were currently in a place of hating Daniel, but for him to be killed by Dracula...

“Again, why...?” Jack asked warily.

“Because he hurt [First].”

“You’re crazy.” Jack whispered.

“Funny, that was one of Daniel’s last words.”

“She won’t forgive you.” Jack stated, stepping backwards towards the door.

“...I know.”

“I’m gonna-“

“Don’t tell her.”

“I have to, Dracula.”

Before he could make it to the door, Dracula had gotten ahold of him, and pinned him against the wall by his neck. The look in his eyes was deranged.

“Don’t.” Dracula growled.

But it didn’t matter if Jack told you or not, because your mother had just received a phone call, and was rushing up the stairs in tears to break some very bad news to you.

~^taglist^~

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[jack-kellys]

“You were my hero.” with jack and crutchie please?

this is literally such a great prompt like I wanted to write it for so long but then like I kinda died in general BUT IM BACK

shout out to @cream--rises for quickly blurting that I should write from crutch’s perspective

————

capeless superman

words: 1340?

warnings: cursing, race instead of crutch is in the refuge au, yeet

————

The street was finally empty; all the newsies practically vanished out of Medda’s theater. No one had looked happy, of course. The whole rally had been a sham. Jack had caved, Jack had sold them out, Jack was a sellout, he was..

Crutchie’s own brother was a sellout.

He tried to block out his anger and replace it with confusion, limping alone down the street he saw Jack turn onto. The burning question of ‘why’ felt branded on his heart, its imprint scalding. Even if Jack told him why he had caved for the money, there was no way Crutchie could ever bring himself to understand it. It just didn’t make sense. That wasn’t Jack.

And he knew Jack.

Jack was the one who gave every hand-me-down he could find to any kid with a hole in their shirt or pants. Jack passed around food from the nuns to the rest of the kids, a big grin on his face in the morning even though Crutch knew he hadn’t slept for a minute the night before. Jack would fight anyone who roughed up one of his kids—he had, Crutchie reminded himself, only the day before; it was only a day before—even if he was one of the worst fighters Crutchie had ever seen.

Jack wasn’t any of the words Spot Conlon had called Jack as he had run the theater, screaming after him those terrible things. That Jack was a coward, and weak and useless, and a traitor—how could Jack Kelly be a traitor? How could Jack Kelly be a traitor?

…Was he?

Crutchie gripped his crutch harder as the thought entered his head. That couldn’t be it. Yes, Crutchie knew, the Santa Fe prospect was often mentioned between the two of them…and maybe the money would cover it…but that had to be just a dream. Every newsie had their own Santa Fe in a way. Finch wanted to be a pitcher one day. Mush wanted to be a real doctor. Henry wanted to make his father’s restaurant into a chain all across the country. It wasn’t any different. Couldn’t be.

Crutch saw the flash of a shadow ahead of him, and without thinking, called out to it.

“You gotta tell me, Jack, right fuckin’ now,” Crutchie cried up the block, watching Jack freeze. After a few moments, Jack retraced his steps, facing Crutchie with tired eyes.

“Tell you what?” Jack said, but it sounded rehearsed.

Crutchie stared harder. “That it didn’t mean nothin’. That you ain’t cavin’, not for just some money—“

“It’s not just some money, Crutch,” Jack interjected. “It’s…enough.”

Crutchie took an involuntary step back. What was he saying? “You’re not leavin’. You’re just not, Jack, that money’s too dirty. It,” Crutchie bit his lip, but continued his words stronger, “that money pays to keep places like the Refuge in business. It pays to keep where Race is hurtin’ in business,” Crutchie choked out.

Crutchie’s other brother, Racetrack, had been dragged to the Refuge just the other day. Actually dragged, too, Crutchie had glimpsed it briefly; Race was out cold thanks to Oscar and lugged into the wagon like he weighed nothing. Like he was nothing.

Jack couldn’t think Race was nothing all of a sudden.

“Crutchie,” Jack whispered, his eyes never leaving the ground. “You knows better than anyone that I gotta get outta here.”

“No,” Crutchie croaked. “This ain’t you, not really. You always think about us first—we always think of each other first.”

“Crutch, I can’t, I—“

“Yes you can!” Crutchie blurted, unintentional emotion trembling in his voice. “Why wouldn’t you. We’re all here, Jack. We ain’t out there. This’s your family, why, why…”

Crutchie scrubbed his eye, looking up at Jack with a small glimmer of hope. There had to be a why, even if he couldn’t figure it himself. Jack always had a reason, if not always a plan. He was an artist; he was full of passion. And though that passion branched into many different areas, Crutchie knew that his newsies were at the heart of it. They had to be. They were all Jack had. They were all any one of them had. At least a third of them would probably be dead without the lodge—Crutchie knew he probably would; he accepted that a long time ago. He was a fighter, sure, but some things were just out of his control.

But Jack was in control. At least, he could have been in control, easily. And yet decided not to, instead turning on his brothers.

“Why?” Jack scoffed. “Why? ‘Cause I don’t wanna any of yous ending up like Racer! I don’t want any more asses beaten so hard into the ground that we’s gotta peel ourselves off’a it! Crutchie, I can’t watch that. I can’t let any ‘a you get...I can’t let you die over this.”

Confusion burned in the back of Crutchie’s throat. “Like we wouldn’t die of starvin’ on the streets with these prices so high or somethin’,” he found himself blurting. “We already got all five boroughs on our side, Jack, a city-side strike could end it, and…”

“No it wouldn’t,” Jack said with force. “Pulitzer don’t give a shit about us, Crutch, he’d keep those prices until we can’t take beatings no more. He thinks this is a war, and he ain’t plannin’ on losin’.”

Something about that struck Crutchie as a little more than strange. A bit personal for just some money. “How...how long didja talk to him?” he asked slowly.

Jack hung his head. “Ain’t gonna lie; it was a while.”

Crutchie stumbled back, incredulous.

“Jack, w-what’d he do to you?”

Jack took a step towards Crutchie, who chose to move back yet again. This wasn’t his Jack. “We just talked, Crutchie,” Jack muttered. “‘S all.”

“It ain’t,” Crutchie could’ve laughed in disbelief. After all this time, Jack still thought Crutchie couldn’t see through him. “You’re lyin’, to me, oh my god. I can’t believe this, I…” Crutchie shook his head, mouth slightly agape.

Jack Kelly was a traitor.

The boy who had never once lied to his face was standing a foot away from him on a street corner in the dark with the guiltiest expression Crutchie had ever seen.

“Crutchie,” Jack was pleading now. What kind of topsy-turvy nightmare was Crutchie living in? “Please. I’m sorry, you gotta know that, but I had to. I had to. I had to do it.”

“No you didn’t,” Crutchie scoffed, a faint ironic smile on his face. This was unbelievable. “No you fucking didn’t. Coulda rejected the money right in front ‘a Spot, shown ‘em all you were on the right side—“

“I’m on your side, Crutch, c’mon—“

“—and instead you cave, man. Caved for those fuckin’ monsters at the top.” Crutchie scrunched his nose slightly. “Jack, I wanna trust ya, but that’s dirty, you know that.”

The look on Jack’s face made Crutchie’s heart sink, but he willed his expression to stay strong; stay strong like he didn’t care that he was losing his brother.

“I’m so sorry, Crutchie,” Jack choked.

“But you ain’t, I mean,” Crutchie let out a bitter laugh, “that wad ‘a cash must feel pretty great in you pocket.” Crutchie’s skin was beginning to crawl just talking to Jack and hearing him flat out lie to him. He had to get out. He couldn’t hide his breakdown for long, and he couldn’t let Jack see that. Especially after the night’s events. “You were my hero, Jacko.” His own voice was too devoid of emotion; it scared him.

“If you’d just let me explain, Crutch, I swear you’d understand,” Jack sounded too desperate, it couldn’t be real, “please, man.”

“Go get your Santa Fe, Jack,” Crutchie muttered, acquiescing to the new reality of Jack’s new backward personality. “We’ll still all be waitin’ here with ours.”

With that, Crutchie adjusted his crutch and turned around, heading back to the lodge, trying to block at Jack’s desperate calls after him, pleading with him to stay, to believe him, to trust him. But Crutchie had to start forcing himself to face the truth.

How could you trust a traitor like Jack Kelly after what he’d done to them?

————

YOWCH get em crutch

TAG LIST

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[itsthesinbin]

Warning (Soldier 76/OC feat Jacko)

sort of a part two/continuation to guided, but not featuring the junkers.

This is after Jacko’s returned to her home. A couple of “visitors” show up to her house- just the people she needed to see, actually.

Faucon belongs to @milked-goats / @writing-goats!!

Also under a read more bc LONG

Soldier 76 was a tired man. A tired man wandering the Irish countryside chasing some tale of some kind of… gang… terrorizing a local town. The people say they’re demons, but he figured the people were just scared. Not the first time he’d heard a bunch of assholes be called “demons”, anyway.

His companion- a tall French Woman by the alias of Faucon- walked behind him. Both must’ve looked ridiculous, walking along a forest path in full armor. Faucon knows she wants to get out of her heat-prison, but Soldier insisted on staying in gear. Who knows when they’d ambushed? Especially in these dense trees.

“Soldier,” the woman behind him started, taking a moment to figure out the translation to what she wants to say. God she wishes she studied English more often…

“Are you sure this is… right?” Hopefully that gets the point across. She just wants to make sure they aren’t lost.

Soldier had to think for a second, looking back at her. She glanced around at the trees, as if trying to figure out where they are. He sighed, running a gloved hand over his head.

“No- but I know we’re not lost. We just need to patrol around, then hurry back to a city to catch our flight back to Egypt.” Ana’s going to kick his ass for taking so long to get back to the necropolis.

If they’re lucky, the punks were eaten by fucking wolves and they can just leave.

But, as usual, luck was not on Soldier’s side.

A rustling caught the old soldier’s attention, he whipped around, weapon pointed towards the noise. He scowled behind the mask, trying to find anything- be it human or animal.

“Faucon, can you get up in the sky?” She looked up, frowning at the thick branches above her. There’s no break in the tree canopy, aside from the odd tiny holes. No way she could break through. She’d simply get branches and leaves stuck in her jetpack. She grunted out an “mm-mm”, stomping her foot angrily. He sighed. She frowned in response.

“Je suis désolé*,” she apologized. He leant his rifle on his shoulder, slowly walking again. She followed, keeping a closer eye on their surroundings.

“No need to apologize,” he grunted. “Can’t help that the trees here are so damn thick-” A large branch landed in their path, startling the soldiers. 76 jerked back, pulse rifle aiming upwards. They looked up, seeing something vaguely human shaped dart through the trees. Faint giggling could be heard, making the younger woman shudder.

A faint blue light suddenly lit up, at the far end of the path they’re on. The soldiers pointed their weapons forward. The light bobbed up and down, seemingly beckoning them to follow it. Faucon almost started walking, but Soldier moved his hand to block her path.

Before any action could be taken, shadows appeared around them. In the trees, among the bushes- bright eyes glowed in the dark. When had the sun set? Was it truly set, or were the trees just that thick?

A… creature stepped out of the brush. Nearly human in appearance, but with glowing gold eyes, black fur, and long claws. More of them stepped out- too many to count. Some sat in the trees, some hung behind. The humans were clearly outnumbered.

“No choice,” Soldier growled. He backed up, pushing his charge back. Without any further prompt, the two began to run. Like hell they could take on that many of those… things.

The monsters were definitely up for a chase, however.

Soldier fired his rockets into the pack, hoping to deter them. It injured a few, but it also just made the rest angrier.

An orange light appeared ahead of them, similar to the blue one from before. It floated in front of a break in the trees, on what looked like a worn dirt path. Soldier didn’t notice it at first- but Faucon did.

“À travers les arbres**,” she commanded, suddenly taking control of the situation. She gripped Soldier’s wrist, pulling him through the small gap between the trees. The older man almost tripped over roots- and his own feet- but managed to follow closely. The creatures roared, struggling to fit between the trunks at once.

It gave them enough of a head start to try and hide.

More orange lights appeared, a trail of them leading down the worn forest path. With no other choice, Faucon and 76 followed the disappearing- and reappearing- flickers of light.

At the end of a trail, and old cabin sat in the middle of clearing. The two stopped, startled to find anyone living this far out in the wilderness. They caught their breaths, checking behind them to see if they were followed.

Faucon nearly screamed as the door to the cabin slammed open.

“Oh, I’m so late! I hope they’re-”. The soldiers looked over at the new voice, seeing a very… small woman struggling to hold a large bag- and an even larger hat. The orange-haired woman stared at them for a moment, before sighing loudly in relief.

“Oh, thank the spirits. I thought I was TOO late,” she said, putting her hand- and hat- over her chest in relief. Soldier started to say something, but was cut off by loud snarling.

“Dammit- now we have to protect a civilian,” he growled, pulling his pulse rifle out. Faucon readied her SMG, moving back to keep a closer eye on the smaller woman.

“Protect me from what? The Phouka? Oh, please- I handle them on a daily basis,” she laughed, easily brushing past the confused soldiers. 76 shook his head, grabbing her shoulder roughly.

“Get behind-” The pack appeared, growling loudly. The woman pulled her shoulder away from 76’s hand, walking forward. The monsters seemed to stop- and a few even backed up.

“Oh hush now- I know what I’m doing,” she said, pulling her hat on. She whipped her bag around, digging through it. A faint chiming could be heard- bells jingled on the outside of the messenger bag.

Out comes a large, iron horseshoe.

The creatures- Phouka, she called them- cried out in anger. The woman approached them, holding the horseshoe out. The phouka growled and hissed, before turning and running.

Once she was sure they were gone, the seemingly-crazy woman turned back to the stunned soldiers. She put the horseshoe back in her bag, fishing something else out. She hurried towards them, a smile on her face.

“You two can call me Jacko- now where did I put-” She huffed, before letting out a happy “ah!” as she pulled out two daisychains. While the two were gathering their thoughts, Jacko shoved the small bracelets onto their wrists.

“Keep those on while you’re in my home. I’ll give you something stronger before you leave. Now come in! The tea’s about to be ready and we need to let the Phouka run off for a bit.” Without giving the two a chance to decline, she ushered them inside.

The house’s decor was just as eccentric as the woman who owned it. Charms and wreaths hung on the walls, what looked like Halloween decorations sat around the small living room, and a ton of different plants grew in various hanging and stationary pots.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Jacko said, hurrying to the kitchen. Faucon slowly slid her jetpack off, before sitting on the loveseat. 76 stayed standing, clutching his pulse rifle. Something was off about this woman- this whole situation.

The small woman returned, carrying a large tray with tea and cookies. She had taken her hat, cloak, and boots off. All that was left was a dark orange sundress and socks.

She set the tray down, looking up at him with unnervingly large green eyes. He chewed on the inside of his cheek- a nervous habit he could never break.

“You can sit down, you know! Just because I know how to ward off some of the fair folk doesn’t mean I could beat you in a fight,” she laughed, sitting in an old armchair across from the loveseat. She waited for the older man to sit- although he just… stood there. She guessed he was suspicious. That’s fair.

“Anyway, I know you’re curious and suspicious, but I can’t explain too much at the moment. Not without giving away some very important details for later.” Soldier sneered behind his mask. What the hell was this woman talking about?

“For the incident that happened just now, know that there are creatures long-thought fictional roaming around the world,” she started, voice turning deadly serious. “Keep your eyes on the shadows- but don’t linger too long. Many hate being stared at.” She got up again, going to a large cabinet at the back of the living room.

“Now, do you have something I can call you?” Faucon snapped out of her confused stupor, watching the woman dig through the cabinet. Bottles and dried plants were pushed aside as she muttered to herself.

“... Faucon,” the taller woman said. “And Soldier 76”. Jacko nodded, mumbling a “nice to meet you both”.

“Ah- there they are.” She pulled something out of the very back of the lowest shelf. She came back over, handing something to both visitors. Faucon examined the item.

It was a heavy bracelet, covered in red cloth to keep from biting into the skin. She looked at Jacko in confusion.

“Iron bracelets- the red is to make you invisible. Although… I guess he’d be safe. Those Phouka must’ve been after you, miss,” Jacko explained, eyeing the red on Soldier’s jacket. “Just to be safe- wear those as you leave the forest. They should ignore you”. Jacko sat again, pouring tea for her guests.

Once the tea was poured and the cups were dispersed, Jacko divided up the cookies. WIthout thinking, Faucon took the plate happily. Soldier tried to stop her, but she hungrily shoved a cookie in her mouth. Double fudge… Delicious.

Faucon didn’t see the glare Soldier shot her way.

“This visit has to be short- you two have a flight to catch”. Soldier raised his pulse rifle, startling both women.

“How do you know that? Who do you work for?” Jacko shook off the shock, letting out a small sigh. She frowned, nose wrinkling slightly with the action. Faucon found the look to be quite adorable, and couldn’t help but snicker behind her cup.

“Whatever I said, you wouldn’t believe me. Just know I work for someone who wants to help you- all of you.” Not a complete lie, on Jacko’s part. Soldier growled, moving forward. He slammed his hand on the coffee table, making the women jump. Faucon was definitely enjoying this… display, though.

“Cut this shit out. Tell me who you’re working for or I’ll-” “Kill me? Or take me to the authorities? You’re not part of Overwatch, anymore, sir- you don’t really have any authority here.” The sternness in her voice made him reel bad- as well as the knowledge she had. Who the hell was this woman?

“Now, I suggest you either sit down, or calm down, before I have you escorted out of this house”. Soldier didn’t know if she had other people- guards- here, so he just, reluctantly, shut his mouth. Faucon grabbed his sleeve, pulling him to come sit with her. He grunted, letting out a huff as he flopped himself on the old loveseat. Faucon resisted the urge to lean against him as Jacko sat up straight.

“You two are in danger- as is every previous Overwatch soldier. You’ll get a message soon- I don’t know from who. I’ve only heard them be called “the ones on the rock”. My sources are very… ridiculous, when it comes to details,” Jacko explained. Before Soldier could open his mouth, she continued. The two notice her eyes seemingly glaze over.

“The shadow’s searching- he’ll attack the ones on the rock, followed by his imps. After the attack, the ones from the rock will send the message. No matter what, you must answer it,” she said, voice sounding… far away. Faucon reached a hand up, waving it in front of her line of sight. Jacko’s eyes barely twitched in her direction.

The eccentric woman suddenly snapped out of her stupor, shaking her head. Soldier stood as she shook the disorientation away.

“I’ve heard enough. I don’t know how you got this information, but we’ll be keeping a close eye on you,” he growled, heading for the door.

“If you don’t heed my warning, you’ll ruin many lives!” Soldier ignored her.

“Faucon! Fall out- we need to hurry back to town.” Faucon quickly stood, followed by Jacko. The frenchwoman started to leave, but Jacko grabbed her arm. She looked back as the smaller woman picked up a small, cloth-covered box.

“Take this- open it when you’re alone,” she said slowly, as if knowing Faucon had trouble with english. Faucon held the box awkwardly, staring down at the black cloth wrapped around it.

“There’s a way to contact me inside- as well as a few… extra items you might need, later,” Jacko said quietly. “Just… do not open it while you’re still in Ireland. Wear the iron bracelets until you’re where you need to be. Then open the box, when you’re alone. Soldier will take the items inside if he sees them”. Faucon, despite knowing she should tell Soldier about this, hesitantly nodded.

She slipped the medium-sized box into her bag carefully, before grabbing it and her jetpack. She hurried after her Commander, leaving the seemingly-crazed woman alone in her house.

The iron around her wrists felt more like shackles, clinking heavily against her armor. The two soldiers walked in silence, processing what had happened.

She reached over, grabbing the older soldier’s hand. He held it limply, thoughts more focused on the woman back in the cabin. She heard him mutter something along the lines of “this whole place is ridiculous”.

Neither of them saw the creatures of the forest scurrying past them, through the trees. The only thing Faucon managed to catch was a small hiss, and golden eyes darting back into the shadows.

The grip on Soldier’s hand tightened, as they made their way out of the forest.

[savemybabttttt]

ok so hi, i’m Rita and this is my new born child Alec!! i’ll leave a few bullet points about this creature from pluto below, i might make a bio page soon i’m just lazy as fuck please forgive me.

his label his “the wannabe casanova”, if that’s not self explanatory, Alec wants to be the og fuck boy but he simply just can’t due to lack of skills to do so. he’s pretty messy at trying to be it and it can either besuper cute and adorable cause he’s such a dork, it can be so cringe-worthy but sometimes he might get there but feels so bad he can’t finish the job

he’s such a nice dude, wants to hug everyone but hides that lowkey cause he wants to be a fuc boy so he might come out a little confusing sometimes cause he’s an asshole this one time and then the next day he’s like ur fave human being cause he’s such a fucking dork please forgive him for his sins

background stuff:

he used to live in san francisco, it’s his home and he loves it but he couldn’t stay there anymore

Alec doesn’t have a close relationship with his mother, she has never really been there for him due to her drug addiction but he still tries really hard to keep in touch no matter what but she’s just not really interested in it

his dad well… unlike the mother, he tries hard to have an healthy relationship with Alec and calls everyday, sends him unnecessary amounts of money every month, plans dinner dates and just wants to make up for all the time that he wasn’t there for him because of his job and his ex wife (alec’s mom).

Alec obviously really appreciates the fact that he tries so hard and he wants to have that nice father/son relationship but sometimes it’s too much for him

so hawaii is the way to go to run away from all of that

he tries to keep it all in and hide it with his quirky traits and all that but yeah

little important facts:

he’s bisexual, very open about it!!!! ( this means he might play the casanova card on y’all i’m sorry )

he has a pup, his name is jacko and he loves him so much but the dog just doesnt play along with his fuck boy crap like he goes on a walk with jacko to pick up some hot dude or dudette and while he’s at it jacko just shits on him maybe i know this is great

he really like photography, cinema, books and he’s kinda artsy in that sense

his college major was informatic engineering and he’s a fucking nerd

well thats pretty much it for now please love my dude and plot with me