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@coldpyre
i still haven't logged out of this account because i'm trash but i started watching t@gged and it's good but the way they text pisses me off
i want a cleaner dash + only to follow people that are actually interested in writing with me, so i’m not going to post ace’s new url here, but like this if you want the url to ace’s new blog.
i want a cleaner dash + only to follow people that are actually interested in writing with me, so i’m not going to post ace’s new url here, but like this if you want the url to ace’s new blog.
HEADCANON: ALL OF HIS CARS. not including the ones he temporarily steals.
this really isn’t the headcanon i should be making, but i love cars more than i love myself, so here’s a quick summary of all the cars ace is going to have eventually. note: all of his vehicles are supercharged and upgraded, so they’re generally all fast, because he needs speed in case he has to escape the police. it’s convenient. and also cool.
‘18 dodge challenger srt demon. the most beautiful car i have ever seen in my life. i already wrote a pretty long headcanon about it, which you can find here. this is ace’s preferred method of transportation, but it does attract a lot of attention.
‘17 jeep grand cherokee srt. it’s the fastest suv to date, which is largely why he wanted it. it’s all black, with some orange trim in the exterior. it has a lot more room than the challenger does, so he’ll use it whenever he needs to carry a bunch of stuff. he’s also not as protective of it as he is the challenger, so if he needs to transport someone else, he’s more likely to use the jeep. it has over 700 horsepower after all it’s upgrades.
‘17 dodge ram 1500 srt hellcat. unsurprisingly, it’s fast. around 800 horsepower. he doesn’t use it much, typically only using it when he has to tow cars, so it’s mostly only used for working purposes. and like everything else, it’s black, with orange trim.
‘17 chevrolet ss. 600 horsepower. really, ace only decided to own it because it doesn’t look like a fast car; it’ll blend in well with others, but it does have a lot of power considering everything. again, black with orange interior.
‘15 chevrolet corvet z06. this is really just a status thing; ace never cared much for corvettes, regardless of how fast they are, but he figured since he’s rich, he should have a rich person’s car. he didn’t want a lambo, so he settled for a corvette. like everything else, it’s black with orange trim in the interior.
‘17 harley davidson v-rod muscle. he just likes motorcycles, and he wanted an upgrade from his road king. over 200 horsepower. black.
a callout post for @wolfache
peas in her mac and cheese?
pineapple on her pizza???????
hung up on me like three times
makes fun of me for my deadpool stuff?
makes fun of me in general
peas in her fucking mac and cheese
i hate @wolfache
BATTLE STATS.
repost, do not reblog.
GENERAL
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ — strength ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ — offence ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ — defense ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ — speed ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ — durability ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ — accuracy ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ — agility ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ — stamina ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ — teamwork ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ — stealth
SPECIFICS
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ — close combat ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ — bladed weapons ( swords, daggers) ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ — blunt weapons ( clubs, staffs, axes ) ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ — ranged weapons ( archery, guns) ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ — superpowers / abilities ( magic ) ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ — traps / setups ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ — medic
LASTING INJURIES
most of his scars are those left by price schuster, though some are from the fights ace tends to purposefully get himself into. it didn’t occur through combat or anything, but he does develop arthritis in his right arm from where he breaks his arm in a car crash.
COMBAT SCARS
so fucking many, holy shit. one day i’ll have enough energy to make a proper headcanon about them, but not today. just know that roughly fifty percent of his skin is made of scarred tissue, though some are covered by tattoos.
FIGHT STYLE
bold any that definitely apply, italicise any that vaguely apply.
commander / duelist / honourable / dishonourable / would have others do their fighting / stealthy / long-ranged / mid - ranged / melee / technological / sorcery / superhuman abilities / has fought in a tourney / a lover of fighting / a hater of fighting / cowardly / reckless / strategic / uses underhanded tricks / renowned for their skill / trained / untrained / keeps skills a secret / won a battle / lost a battle / ruthless / merciful
TAGGED BY: i stole it. TAGGING: anyone.
sunbruise.
there’s something there that’s amiss , and he wants to know what it is . he’d settled for knowing there was nothing he could do to fix the mess that was the boy beside him , nor help him or offer solace , but he could sit here and listen . gods would know , that might be the only thing that could work . ❛❛ because it makes you feel in control , got that . ❜❜ there’s not judgement with the way he speaks , more blunt and honest than anything else . it wasn’t as if he was any further away from the truths that ace spoke of , knowing who his hands had choked to death . last cigarette in the box , he lights it up and exhales a grey to match the sky . ❛❛ tell me this , how did it start ? ❜❜
dangerous territory to thread , he knows . ace could rage quit out of this conversation and leave kenneth empty handed , but if he chose the right words , there was a way of knowing a bit more than before . something that connected the dots enough , or a story that weighed his friend’s shoulders down . not that it’d stop , even if he spoke of it . but someone alive would know about it - him . ❛❛ you hurt people now , but someone must have hurt you first . will you tell me ? ❜❜
it started with fire. too much of it, everywhere. it’s why he can’t look at flames without feeling uneasy, even when he purposefully burns others, as if using it now will make up for the control he lacked back then. absently, he watches the other light his cigarette, watches the flame flicker before going out, remembering how he never watched that house fire go out. he never got the relief of watching the flames cease; instead, he’s haunted by the way they didn’t. “ i burnt my family to a crisp. ” he doesn’t begin with an explanation, doesn’t start with the reason; because at the end of the day, that’s what it boils down to: he killed them, and the rest doesn’t matter.
eyes glazed over with sorrow, he plucks the cigarette from the roman’s lips, settling it between his own; it’s only fair after watching his bottle shatter against the pavement. he still needs something to kill his insides, the way he killed them. only then does he continue, gaze leveled elsewhere, his stare hollow. “ there was some guy. price. he made me do it. he made me do everything. turned me into a killer. told me that as long as i followed his orders, he wouldn’t touch my family. ” a slow exhale of smoke, accompanied with a bitter laugh. “ and i guess he didn’t. ”
cametowin.
❛❛ yeah, i doubt they’ll be cool with me just skipping out. i’m helping them … move. plus, they know my whole family is dead, so — can’t use that excuse. ❜❜ you try to distract him, the orphan thing always is a good bomb to drop. makes people shocked or uncomfortable, maybe it’ll give you enough time to run.
❛❛ i’m not scared of you, asshole. ❜❜ liar. your hands are trembling, it’s clear you’re either freaking out or terrified. ❛❛ i just ——- i have to go. you really don’t want to try & stop me. ‘cause i bite & it won’t be in the fun way. ❜❜
you’re unphased by his trauma, because it matches your own; you have no pity for orphans when you were made one by your own naivety. “ they’ll live. ” head tilts, blood beneath your feet squelching as you only move closer, DEVILISH SMIRK on serpentine lips, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. instead, they’re hollow. “ but you won’t if you don’t help me clean up. i can’t just leave his mutilated corpse like that. and murder drains a lot of energy. but you’re young; you’re full of it. ”
you don’t need his help, but you like watching him, like seeing him squirm; you feed off fear, and it’s radiating from him. “ i’d bet i bite harder. ”
cametowin.
YOU SMELL HIS BLOOD, coating his palms in a way yours always do when you’re struggling to find control. you don’t want control right now, you want to bleed & bleed & bleed. the punches keep coming, your body kicks in with adrenaline, you have to run. it’s the only option to save yourself but you don’t, you take the beating like you’ve always done. something inside you starts echoing your fathers voice, screaming about how worthless you are, telling you how pathetic you are for letting him hit you but you don’t care. you don’t fucking care.
you’re tired, you just want to feel something, something other than the emptiness that grief has left behind. you’re so tired.
ace demands you fight back & you almost have the urge to laugh. there’s nothing inside your brain that’s ever taught you to fight back against fists, your father taught you to stay down. fighting back has only ever made it worse, fighting back means you’ll be trapped in a freezer for the night. you’ll take bruises over that any day.
then you hear a name that’s not your own, brows tugging together as you look up ( you don’t remember dropping to your knee’s but there you are. ). trembling hands wipe at the blood dripping from your lips. eyes glowing golden, lips painted red.
❛❛ i’m not —— ❜❜ you spit blood again, the taste is so familiar on your tongue it’s almost relaxing. it tastes like home. hand moves to wipe at your eyes ( you’re not crying. except maybe you are. it’s a knee jerk reaction to the screaming voice of your father inside your head. ). your body’s already healing, you’re too tired to try & stop it.
your visions blurred, & maybe … maybe it’s not ace anymore. maybe it’s your dad. maybe he’s alive again. instinct kick in, to beg, to apologise. so you do.
❛❛ don’t. ❜❜ your voice trembles. ❛❛ i don’t want to go. please. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. please, don’t—- don’t make me. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. ❜❜
you’re somewhere between human and monster now, teetering on the edge of what little control you have. fangs prick at your lips, eyes shine orange, mirroring the flames that took them from you. skin is far too hot, steam rolling off your muscles, the anger within threatening to spark fire, to burn down everything. to destroy everything but you. because amidst the flames, it’s always you left standing.
you’re always the one that survives, even if you don’t feel alive.
there’s blood everywhere, both isaac’s and your own—— it’s intermixed, your ichor colliding with his, the blood from your fists smearing across that on his face. there’s blood everywhere, but that’s not the only reason you see red, vision clouded with your own savagery, chest heaving with breaths that sound far more like growls, the beast within your chest clawing it’s way out, ripping at your insides.
only faintly do you hear isaac’s voice. you hear his apologies, his pleads, but it’s soon drowned out by the sound of your own. it’s your voice saying sorry, but it’s all in your head; it’s your voice, seventeen years old, screaming and pleading with price to let you save them. and soon, that, too, gives way to the sound of their voices. their screams echo in your head, layered on top of one another, loud enough to make your head ache.
and god, how powerless it makes you feel, listening to their pain, unable to do anything to stop it. even now, even as you stand over his bleeding body, you crave more. you ache for POWER, for a reminder that your humanity will never lead to your downfall again.
though deep down, you know it won’t. you have none left; you can’t fall any further than you already have.
“ shut up. just fucking shut up. ” the despair in his voice only makes you think of theirs. you don’t care about his pain, but you’ve always cared about theirs. even after they’re gone. because of you.
punches turn to mauls, fists replaced by claws, because maybe the sound of ripping flesh would be enough to satiate you. it’s exhausting being this angry; all you want is for it to end, to stop feeling as though you’re burning from the inside out, eaten away by your own rage. but it doesn’t. it never does. at this point, you should have expected it, you stupid, stupid boy. it’s been five years. if it were ever going to end, it would have by now.
instead, it’s getting worse.
you’re getting worse.
cametowin.
❛❛ i’m not a bitch ——— i just … i have plans. wouldn’t want to keep them waiting, you know? i might be a dick but i’m not that much of a dick. ❜❜
“ a bitch with plans. got it. still, it’s no problem. just tell them that SOMEONE DIED. they’d understand. ” back of hand raises to wipe at crimson slathered across face, step taken closer to the other. “ what’s the matter? you’re not scared, are you? thought you’re s’posed to be a big bad wolf. ”
“ before you shoot me or anything, listen. you’re going about all of this the wrong way. mccall’s all about HUMANITY or whatever; he’s going to try to get to yours. that’s why you have to get someone without any. i know this is supposed to be a humans versus monsters thing, but you’re delusional if you think a bunch of guns are going to take down every supernatural fuck out there. you need someone more powerful than that. someone that also wants to see him dead. ” / @beastruin
cametowin.
❛❛ ——— i’m gonna … i’m gonna go. ❜❜
“ don’t be a bitch, lahey. it’s just a little blood. ” it’s a lot of blood.
“ i could help you, yeah, but —— i don’t really want to. your moral code’s kind of nauseating. super nauseating, actually. so there’s got to be something in it for me if i’m going to give up the opportunity to kill people. ” / @temuto
“ you do realize i could roast your scrawny ass before you could even call for help, right? kind of stupid to pick a fight ‘gainst someone ten times stronger, don’t you think? ” / @susceptibles
twinveined.
a quick glance is thrown in his direction , & with no thought , she’s walking over. ‘ yeah , okay. ’ small body slips next to his , eyes at his level. a soft hand moves to rest against his cheek , thumb brushing soft movements with a smile on her lips. ‘ i’ll try my best. promise. ’
he draws closer to her touch where he’d usually cower away from it, mind far too HAZED to consider the “ ”of his actions, the toll it may take on his emotions when everything inevitably falls apart. heavy lids fall closed over bloodshot gaze, lazuline optics stolen from view, a stuttering sigh falling through parted, BRUTALIZED mouth. “ y’feel nice. ”
