Patrick Stump Imagines/oneshots

Centuries (fluff)

With a single sweep of his muscular arm, the gladiator sent the smaller man spinning through the air away from him in a dramatic spiral, finally landing feet away in his front. He didn't get up. You stood up and looked down at him, worry on your face.

"Sit down y/n," your father said.

You looked for a couple of seconds longer before reluctantly sitting down. You supposed this was how it went and you shouldn't lose your heart to a criminals face.

One man remined standing who put up a bit more of a fight but again was thrown to the ground forcefully to another account of a cheering crowd, some even blew kisses between their laughs.

Slowly in turn, without anyone but you noticing it seemed, all of the men stood up and lookrd at something in their hands. It looked like pieces of string, a small leather pouch and a small stone in the final man's hand. Weapons weren't allowed in this fight but you were sure objects like those that couldn't cause harm would be permitted... you just couldn't work out why they had such random and useless items with them.

Suddenly you had a thought.

You stood up. "Put the stone in the pouch!" You shouted to the men who looked up at you. You locked eyes with the one in the red leathers who gave you a small smile and a nod. They passed their things to the one woth the stone in his hand as everyone else turned to you.

"Y/n! You know you aren't supposed to interact with the gladiators!" Yelled your dad as he forced you back into your seat.

"But-"

"No buts! Be quiet!" He shouted at you, shaking his head.

You glanced down to the pit, the favourite gladiator was looking at you angrily. He wouldn't dare hurt a princess... would he? Now you really really hoped he didn't win. You were scared. You'd helped his 'enemies' and you were sure he wasn't best pleased with you for that.

You looked at the other and thr gladiator looked back to them too and ran towards them, getting ready to give them another blow. But as he began his advance, the final one raised his arm and cast the stone from the pouch where he had attached the strings to both sides. The stone soared through the air, heavy with anticipation. It seemed to take years to travel the distance and everyone held their breath as one.

What if it didn't work?

What if he misjudged the angle?

What if the gladiator won and wreaked his revenge on you for helping thr others?

The stone hit him square in the forehead and he halted his running. The crowd inhailed abruptly. Your eyes grew wide. They hadn't done it. The stone was too small. All it had done was shocked him and now he wouod be angry and even more brutal.

No one spoke.

Then, almost in slow motion, the gladiator fell to his knees with a strong thud and keeled over onto his front, laying very still.

Still, silence.

The brown haired one in the body armour walked slowly towards the man on the floor. You stood up again ans snatched your hand from your fathers grip when he tried to get you to sit again.

He rolled him onto his back. He was so brave. The hand didn't move. That's when you saw it; the stone was lodged in his head, a small trickle of crimson leaked around the edges of the fatal implement.

All four of the remaining men threw their arms into the air and cheered. After a few seconds hesitation, the crowd joined in, clapping and whistling in disbelief. The dead man had been on a winning streak and was beaten just like that, by a small stone. You let out a shakey breath and screamed loudly with the audience, clapping.