#than occuping my brain? idk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr’s reach among the 26-to-35-year-olds in the US is 11%.

#than occuping my brain? idk

halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

i absolutely fell in LOVE with your price fic holy shit. your writing is spectacular. then i read your request info and saw that you love keegan as well and my soul left my body.

So this is me requesting a keegan x reader fic bc i love this underrated man SO much!! maybe some enemies to lovers where one of them gets injured in the field and, thinking they're dying, a teary desperate confession ensues? lol im not good with prompts i just wanna see my man 🤧 thanks in advance i love ur work

(Don't) Go to War

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

Synopsis: Some days it became impossible not to lose your tempers with each other. Being enemies was easier than admitting you cared.

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: Angst, enemies to lovers, blood & gore, vulgar language, fluff & comfort eventually, suggestive (just a tiny bit)

A/N: Just a few more requests to get done, and then my inbox should be open again. I'm thinking I might do an independent Gaz fic too...but idk yet. Enjoy, Love!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Some days it became impossible not to yell at him.

“I had the shot, Keegan!” Your voice carries over the hull of C-23 Sherpa, and you didn’t bother to stay strapped into your seat as the aircraft levels out around you. Thrusting your body up, your feet slam to the floor as you stalk over to the silent man who watches you with burning blue eyes, “If you hadn’t gotten in the way the target would be six feet under by now!”

Your face was twisted with rage, and a need for justice laced your brain like an inextinguishable blaze of fire.

Keegan and you had a violent streak of not getting along - to the point where Elias was close to separating the two of you permanently. It wasn’t entirely your fault, the man just got on your nerves when he acted like he could boss you around. No Man’s Land was your playground; you knew the trails, where to take shelter when needed, and what towns and backroads to avoid because of Federation occupation. You spent most of your time beyond the walls of Fort Santa Monica just like Keegan and the other Ghosts did – he had no right to lecture you out here.

He had no right to fuck up the mission.

“Kid,” The man in question warns, his form tense from where it leans against the wall. Around the two of you, the aircraft shakes from turbulence. Keegan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and behind the cloth over his face you see his lips thin dangerously, “I’d be careful what you say next.”

“Oh, shut the hell up!” You growl. The dirt and blood sticking to your skin makes you want to scratch at yourself with blunt nails; rip away the grime. Stomping up to Keegan you stand directly in front of him, a sneer heavy on your lips. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, “You have no right to tell me that. I worked my ass off getting that intel on Vidal Teo for months just for you to mess up my shot in no less than three seconds. What the fuck?!”

Keegan’s dead eyes glare from behind the stain of his black eye paint, the custom balaclava shifting as his hidden face moves. Over his arms, his fingers tense and tighten; a pulsing atmosphere begins to perforate the hull. The already strained rope was snapping.

Vidal Teo was a high-ranking commander for the Federation soldiers stationed in a large portion of No Man’s Land. He was instrumental in leading the frontal assault on the Fort – which had been getting steadily worse as the years went on. Vidal was a man marked for death, and your bullet had his name carved into the silver grooves.

He was yours.

“I don’t like your tone, Princess,” Keegan hisses down at you, but his intimidation tactics don’t work. He was large, sure, with a gargantuan build that made your shoulders square, but the anger in your blood pumped with vengeance, “I’m in command of the mission, don’t go mixing it around. You listen to me.”

“Not when Teo was right fucking in front of me,” Your head whips to the side, hands clenched as you point a single finger into the man’s chest. The two of you were so close you could feel his gear brush against yours when he breathed. Inside your form, your pulse sings, “If you hadn't fired that shot all of this would have been finished. Now,” You lower your voice as his enraged eyes bore into you, “He’s off in the damn wind. We’ll never get an opportunity like that again.”

“Back up.” Keegan stands straighter, arms falling to his sides, and at that moment a sliver of hesitance makes its way into your heart as his shadow looms over you, “Now. Before you do something you’ll regret.”

Clenching your jaw, your finger falls. No matter how pissed off you were at the Ghost, one thing he said was right. Keegan was in control of this mission – technically he was your superior at the moment. You should listen to him.

Listen? Your eyes flash, Like he listened to me? I told him to not fire while I lined my scope up…Why the hell did he do that?

“The sooner you’re out of my life,” Growling, you stare deep into Keegan’s eyes and only slightly shiver at the intensity. You could feel his breath coming out in strained puffs, wafting over your face, “The better. This is on you…All of my goddamn work down the drain…”

Jerking back as you grumble the last sentence under your breath, you storm past the Ghost’s stone-still figure and enter the cockpit, feeling his locked gaze on you the entire time. You slam the door shut, only serving to make the pilots snap their attention to you, mouths slack and optics wide.

“What?” You growl, glaring and practically releasing steam out of your ears. Damn that man and his stupidly handsome face…What?

The pilots quickly stutter back to their controls, backs straight, and heads forward.

Blinking, you scrunch your lips; your sense coming back to you as your shoulders deflate.

“Fuck,” Grumbling, you bring your hands up and place them on top of your head, lacing the fingers together as your elbows stick out. You glance remorsefully at the two stiff profiles, “Sorry, boys. Long day.”

Elias was going to lecture you again.

He always did when you and Keegan got into fights – they were becoming more and more recent in the past few months. From common disagreements about misplaced knives or weapons to full-blown yelling matches over accidents on missions, the recurring bouts of thrown words never seemed to end.

You were so incredibly sick of it.

Why were you always fighting with him? Why did every action strike you in the heart like a blade? You were always tense around Keegan, sending sharp glances at him every time he was in the vicinity and sharper words a second later. He did the same in return, it wasn’t like this was one-sided. The man was determined to push every button in the book, and damn it if you didn’t do that as well.

Keegan was a man on a high horse; arrogant, hard-headed, rude, and held authority like a stick you could beat someone over the head with. He demanded utter perfection.

Sighing violently, you lean back against the door and shove your palms into your eye sockets; head tilting back to rest on the cool metal and soothe the growing headache.

The problem was, most of the time the man was right when he told you something – whether work-related or not.

“Tango to the left – weapons hot.”

“Contact Scarecrow, Exfil in five. We have a group just above the pharmacy building.”

“West, Kid. Snipers scope, take ‘em down.”

No Man’s Land was supposed to be your playground and all of a sudden some other kid comes along; starts throwing rocks at the equipment with a damn painted balaclava over his face. You didn’t want someone telling you how to do your job.

Frowning, your teeth nash in annoyance.

This flight back to Santa Monica couldn't end soon enough, and now you had months of Recon intel sitting in your office to throw into the trash.

—

You grabbed at the pinned-up files with paper-cut fingertips, looking over the contents before frowning. Tossing them to the side, your ears twitch at the flopping sound of them flying into the garbage bin at your feet.

The bulletin board was bare of all the red yarn, maps, and intel that you had once hung up with pride. Vidal Teo was gone, and just so the board was once more empty. It was hard not to feel cheated, angry, but maybe a part of you felt emptiness as well.

All of that work… just for one shot to mess it up. And the bullet wasn’t even from your own gun.

“I swear,” You whisper, itching at your nose, “If I ever get up on a team with him again…”

Trailing off, your legs shift and carry you to your desk where you throw yourself down into the chair. Thoughts of Keegan made your brain race, mind going to try and understand why. Even if you didn’t like the man, at least on the surface, you still respected him.

So, why? None of it made sense. Why fire off into the city at an unidentified target and send Teo rushing for cover? Why not explain to you what had happened when you were back on the plane? If he had made a mistake and admitted that, you would have accepted it… eventually, of course, but you still would have accepted it regardless. You would have had to.

Licking your lips, you tap your knuckles onto the metal of your desk, playing a long-forgotten tune. You never heard the door open.

“Heard the Op didn’t go as planned, but at least the two of you didn’t kill each other. I’d have a helluva a lot of paperwork to do if you put a bullet in his ass,” Sitting up straighter your head snaps to the open doorway, seeing the stocky stature of Thomas Merrick with his arms crossed over his chest, “Still, though, heard ya’ nearly made those pilots piss their pants when you yelled at ‘em.”

“Merrick,” You groan out, tipping your head past the chair’s backing, your neck digging into the wood, “You’re acting like I try to be a bitch.”

“Are you not,” When you glare at him, the man’s dark eyebrow raises slightly, “Because you’re failing at it – often. Elias’s at the end of his rope with you two.”

Grumbling, your nose scrunches, lips pulling back in a small snarl.

“It’s not my fault. Keegan hates me just the same.”

“That any excuse to yell at a superior?” Merrick sighs, shaking his bald head and walking forward, “Thought I trained you better than that?”

Your eyes flicker to his own, but seeing the blatant disappointment in them, you find it better to look at the empty bulletin board. Swallowing stiffly, your feet shuffle on the floor.

“Look at all my work, Thomas,” Shoving yourself to your feet, you walk to the small garbage bin and pick it up; holding it aloft, you watch the Ghost’s Field Officer's lips thin. There was a mass amount of wasted paper, pictures, and yarn that caught his eye. You go and slam it onto your desk, hearing the clatter as the pencil holder falls to its side, “Wasted. Because of one man’s actions – how many people are going to die now because I couldn’t make the shot? Ten, twenty, thirty…?”

“Kid–” Merrick begins, but you cut him off – still angry at Keegan and trying to strangle down the guilt of pushing it onto Thomas.

“If you don’t mind, Merrick, I have a shit-ton of reports to sign and no time to do them,” Once more flopping back into your chair, you rub your hands over your face and feel the skin pull. If you were anyone other than yourself, you would be getting a reprimand for interrupting a superior like that but Merrick was something of a friend to you.

Closing your eyes, you let the darkness behind your lids flood you as you take a deep breath.

The Ghost leaves after a moment without noise or a sound of encouragement, but that was just how he was. You feel his dark eyes on you, lingering, before he closes the door behind him and stalks away.

Finally left alone in silence, you let your thoughts run to try and answer the age-old question that ravaged your mind.

“What happened to make us like this?” You whisper, hands falling to your lap as you stare off into the distance with blank eyes.

You had never given it much thought – sometimes people just didn’t like each other. Ingrained enemies written into the annals of time and cursed to forever be at each other's throats like rabid animals. But then you realized that this wasn’t high school and you were an adult living in a fucked up world full of death and war. Coworkers no longer had the privilege to talk shit about the other behind their backs or not communicate their problems; being out in No Man’s Land forced people to compromise and work together like a well-oiled machine.

And well-oiled was not the way to describe yours and Keegan's relationship…more like a run-down and rusty car that screams every time you turn the key; practically begging someone to put it out of its misery.

Blinking, you realize, perhaps for the first time, how much of a problem this predicament with Keegan really was.

This could kill us both.

All of this began, you knew, a long time back, and, as it usually did, it had started out beyond the Fort before bleeding back into the ramshackle place you called home. The both of you were enemies far longer than you had been friends.

Your body was hot, sweat dripping down your temple and slipping the expanse of your chin, but still, you stood outside Elias Walker’s door with a tense jaw; fingers itching to rip into Keegan’s flesh. They were speaking inside, their voices hushed as your boots pooled mud and dirt onto the floor like a brand.

“She…went over the ridge?” Elias asks, voice deep, “And she’s alive?”

“Hm,” Keegan makes a savage noise in the back of his throat, and you have to hide your panting breaths to hear it. The damn bastard was always so silent any sound would perk your ears, even if they were ringing with reverberations of spent bullets.

“Then I don’t exactly see what the problem is, Keegan.”

A pause.

“...She’s impulsive. Combative. Doesn’t listen,” There was an inhaled breath, and you feel your face burn at the profound gravel-toned words, lungs making your chest tighten as they zip closed as a bag would. But those next comments make you growl in the back of your throat, rage like fire in your heart, “I don’t want her. Kid’ll get the people she’s placed with killed if she’s allowed to do that again!”

A sigh through the shocked silence.

“Then what do you suggest I do? She’s a valuable asset, I can’t just ground her – the Recon work she does is vital to finding Federation strongholds.”

“I don’t care what you do with her, Elias. Just keep her far away from me and the boys. Kid’s not my problem. Never want her to be again.”

Whatever harsh words are uttered next are lost to you, because your legs are already carrying you down the corridor with brimming tears stuck in the corners of your eyes.

It was more the way he said it than the contents of the clipped sentences. Like you were less than him, pathetic, and unworthy. Nothing more than a rookie holding a gun and parading off into the wilderness to have a good time. That was what wrecked you.

The next time you saw Keegan it was only narrowed glances and clenched fists; terse words. When you snapped at him for the first time, you swear his eyes slightly widened, cold blue one second then boiling bright the next.

You liked that look on him – shocked into a different type of silence. A type of anger you could meet head-on.

Fighting with Keegan soon became too addicting to ignore, a constant activity that never changed like the destroyed world always did. A failsafe at the end of the day.

The anger had never dimmed, infecting you like a poisoned worm stuck in your veins and weaseling its way to your heart. It had only grown the longer you let it sit, and at the end of the day, you festered over the image of the Ghost’s face with his eyes digging into your skin. You stayed awake at night mulling over the arguments, taking the insults and words like bullet wounds to your heart with barely restrained tears; feeling guilty because you threw some back as well.

But what hurt you the most was that, before the hushed meeting in Elias’s office, you had looked up to him. To Keegan. Perhaps you had even enjoyed his quiet company at one point when the loneliness of No Man’s Land got to you. The terrain was incredibly quiet in between the violent hails of gunfire and, on occasion, it would make paranoia infect your bones like a cancer; producing shaking limbs and tense fingers. When Keegan was with you…you hated to admit this, but he made the silence better. More survivable compared to when you were alone doing Recon with only a gun and a combat knife as deadly companions.

Your narrowed lids flicker to the trash bin on the desk.

There was still a small pinch of anger – resentment for the waste and for words spoken in haste – but your mind pulsed to find an explanation. A reason.

There must be a reason that Keegan would fire off a shot into the city prematurely…obviously it was to hit a target, but why? And why hadn’t he told you the reason?

I’m gonna rip my head apart if I keep thinking this over, You warn yourself, huffing under your breath.

You had reports to write up – tell of your failure to kill Vidal Teo and how many lives that will ultimately cost in the future. While you were stuck with a pen in your hand, scribbling away even as the sun had set outside, you had no idea of the stare-down going on in Elias’s office one floor up.

—

Elias’s eyes are sharp, a wave of dark anger deep in the iris as he stands with his arms crossed behind his desk, “Why’d you fire?”

Keegan's feet are shoulder length apart and his arms are clenched behind his back, spine straight; a deep tension lives in the thick air, bearing down weight on the men. The Ghost was still in his gear, the balaclava and black face paint in all its glory situated over his head. That was his best form of armor, allowing him to hide the deep sneer over his cruelly scared lips.

“Tango. Off in the next building,” Keegan’s voice was low, harsh, and cut to a point. He didn’t want to be there – there were many more important things to be done than getting a lecture like a five-year-old.

His sniper rifle needed cleaning, rookies needed to be disciplined, and the treadmills were calling his name. He had to work off all the bullshit in his head.

“The Girl had the shot. Vidal Teo needed to die, Russ – she knew that well enough. I want an explanation as to why a high-priority target is still up and walking.”

The silent beast of a man keeps his body still, even if his head is pounding. Hot adrenaline was still in his veins from how you were yelling at him in the Sherpa, the memory of your rage-twisted face burning into the back of his eyes. He had never seen you that angry before; shaking with the need to release your displeasure onto him. It had slightly taken him aback.

Fighting with you was predictable. You’d both throw insults, get into each other's faces and cruelly break down each other's psyche piece by piece – the man knew what to say and where the unspoken line was just as you did. Fighting was easier than admitting there was something deeper going on, something that you two were hesitant to even speak of.

But, hell, you had never gotten that upset at him previously. And, problem was, even if he wanted to deny it, Keegan knew he fucked up. Bad.

There wasn’t a way in hell that he was going to tell you that, though. He wasn’t going to tell you that his finger had moved before his mind could, pulling down on the hair-trigger of his prized rifle like a fucking novice. Even now self-resentment was worming into him.

He had never felt that to this degree before. He didn’t like it – couldn’t afford to acknowledge it.

What gave you the right to provoke those emotions from him? Maybe I need to ask to have her transferred. Brat’s messin’ with my head.

“Miscalculation. Won’t happen again.” His feet shuffle, boots shifting silently over the floor like that of his title. Miscalculation – he doesn’t make those. Never had after ODIN hit the US. There wasn’t any room for them.

Keegan was a master of taking lives with a swift movement and a pull of a trigger; no one had ever known him to be reckless.

They had you for that.

Elias narrowed his eyes, head tilting, as a tightness is seen rippling through his jaw, “You’re going to have to lie better than that, Son.”

Keegan stilled, dead eyes boring into the other man’s. The sharp blue deepens, darkens. His shoulders set themselves, but the ingrained looseness is still there if someone looks close enough and spies it. Instinct is hard to fight.

“Elias?” He asks from behind the fabric of his face covering but utters no more.

Keegan was a man of few words – very few. Actions served him better, but in this room, there was no point to them. Walker was his superior; his Captain, but more so the closest thing to a brother Keegan would ever have. There wasn’t a choice in this, even if the men had gone through hell together as Ghosts.

“Don’t play me for a fool, Keegan,” The graying man mutters out, shaking his head and going to rest his hands on the top of his desk, “I’ve known you a long time. You don’t fuck up something like this. Never have. So don’t insult me with that half-assed answer.”

Elias pauses, sighing when Keegan just stares at him with blank, black-laced, hard eyes. The man was a damn empty slate, never moving, never giving away anything to betray his emotions.

“I want a full report on my desk in a week. I’m sure the Kid’ll have hers done in a day, but I want you to explain yourself. In detail. You hear?”

“Copy.”

“Dismissed.”

Keegan turns and leaves without another word, just a burning in his gut and a righteous sense of surety in his bloodstream. Your face slashes over his vision as he exits the room, he closes the door behind him and thumps down the halls. People move out of his way quickly, sending glances with pupils so tiny they practically disappear altogether; Keegan knew he was intimidating, especially with all his gear and smelling like gunpowder and blood. Didn’t bother him much.

It seemed like it didn’t bother you either, judging by how you were in his face screaming all the time.

Damn brat, Keegan thinks, itching at his nose bridge and sending stiff glances at the rows and rows of closed doors and windows, She doesn’t know anything.

Before long his feet had carried him down corners and hallways as his head pounded, and it wasn’t a surprise that when he shook himself out of his trance the entire make-up of the floors and walls had changed.

Wait…where was he?

His pace slows to a stop, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Where had he ended up while his mind was running at the thought of you? This had never happened before – the Ghost’s head was all out of sorts if he was talking walks around the Fort without a destination. Every action of his had a purpose, why was that now becoming anything less than fact?

Annoyance plagued him.

Sliding his eyes around, a certain office window catches his viper-like attention. It was the only one with a light still on, warm rays shining out into the hallway, and the shuffling of paper and manila folders flowing to his ears. The door was only minutely ajar, a sliver, and nothing more. About to turn around and leave the area, Keegan halts at the sound of a familiar voice grumbling. His heart jerks.

Blue eyes narrow, and that annoyance at himself grows to find an external outlet.

The hell is this Kid doin’ up so late? Doesn’t she know when lights out is? Fuck, looks like she can’t follow simple guidelines either.

With shuffling feet, he takes a step forward and has every intention to bust down the door and force you to the barracks; lecturing you on the importance of rest when he suddenly realizes something.

Why does he care if you get a good night's sleep?

Growling under his breath, he happens to get a glimpse of a moving shadow through the window that gives him pause with one gloved hand on the woodgrain of the door. If possible, he feels his body completely stop at the scene; his eyes flickering into a widened look.

And what was that tightening in his chest?

You were staring at the hung-up bulletin board, having dragged your desk chair over and situated it right in front of the bare rectangle that once held an innumerable amount of papers and information.

Keegan had seen it himself right before the mission had started. Your eyes lit up when you could tell him everything you knew about the target from his schedule to what he ate in the mornings.

Eggs with a protein bar. Two cups of milk.

You had gathered all of that info yourself – countless trips into Federation-occupied territory that left you coming back with bruises and deep lacerations. Keegan knew; he had watched you limping back through the gate with a shielded look in his eyes. But now the board was blank and useless, holding nothing but your knowledge that it was once filled with your labors.

The Ghost’s hand on the door loosens, and he takes a slow inhalation of breath as your tired eyes get glossy. When had you gotten those bags under your eyes? Keegan’s lips pull thin behind his balaclava. Had…had you always looked that tired?

Had you both really been fighting so much that he had stopped noticing the most basic parts of you that he had watched so closely before?

“I had it…” Keegan’s shoulders tense when he hears you speak, but he doesn’t move. A needle of guilt moved to dig deeper. Your hopeless sigh leaves him gritting his teeth, “Fuck.”

Digging your palms into your eyes, he watches you shake, limbs tense and hunched over nearly into a ball. He has the sudden urge to push the door open, not to scold you but to simply stand by your side. Tell you the truth.

Keegan’s eyebrows pull together, gaze flicking away from you so his brain can focus. But it was like a magnet was stuck behind his optics because it wasn’t long before his eyes flowed back to the small figure.

He stays there for a good while, watching, with a weighted chest and pounding heart. Keegan couldn’t really say what he was thinking about, but all of it certainly involved you. So why couldn’t he open the door?

When your head jerks back up, his eyes widen, body swiftly moving back.

By the time you look out the office window, his shadow is already disappearing down the hallway.

—

You nearly lose your cool when Elias tells you Keegan was accompanying you out into No Man’s Land once more. The bags under your eyes burned – weeks had passed since the fight, and you had gotten little sleep since then.

“Teo was sighted by one of the drones near an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of San Francisco. I want you and Keegan on the trail, and, hopefully,” Elias mutters as Merrick and Ajax listen in the background. Your apparent partner stands behind you, leaning back on the wall with his arms crossed, “We can put this to rest.”

Standing rail-straight, your face is twisted but you keep yourself under control. Even being in the same room with Keegan made you want to lash out. At your sides, your hands slowly clench into tight fists, and behind you, a sharp gaze digs its claws into your skull.

He’s watching you. Studying like he always does when he thinks you don’t notice.

“Sir,” You answer the older Ghosts blankly, lips stiff, “If you think that’s best.”

“I do,” Merrick raises a brow behind Elias, and you pretend not to notice as Ajax’s shoulders shake, “That going to be a problem?”

Ironically, Keegan and you both answer at the same time, a strangling silence before a snarled, “No, Sir.”

The pair of you shipped out in thirty minutes, but neither of you bothered to look at the other as you gathered supplies in the armory; grabbing magazine after magazine and strapping knives to thighs, arms padded with thick clothes and heavy black combat vests. Keegan was applying his face paint despite the dark color already stained into his eye sockets. You doubted it could come off anymore – the skin was probably so damaged by the chemicals it was pointless to try. Like some brutal birthmark. He slipped the balaclava over soon after.

The fabric covered the dark hair and strong jaw, slightly marred with stubble – long scars that grew harsher when his skin twisted; the angled lips below a sharp nose that had captured your attention the first time you had seen them. Keegan was undoubtedly handsome, carved from stone and silver – the remnants of that artistry only now glimpsed in his eyes as a cold reminder. It was funny, you thought, that someone so beautiful could be such an ass. You watched him, terse-like, and grabbed a revolver hanging from the rack, shoving it into your thigh holster.

He was acting off.

Keegan was more silent than he usually was; at this point, he would at least make a quick quip about your annoying habit of packing extra ration bars in your front pouch.

‘Gonna weigh you down, Kid, if you stuff one more of those damn things into your vest.’

But the more you sneaked glances, the more your feet started to shuffle in unease. The Ghost wouldn’t even look at you.

“You sick or something?” Your voice carries, echoing off the walls as you tighten the vest strap on your side. You had never bothered to be subtle when talking to the man – he appreciated bluntness, and that was one thing you could get behind.

“No,” Keegan slips past, suddenly colder than ever before, and disappears without another word.

Watching his back shift as he strides off, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and perhaps a bit of shock.

What the hell was that? You ask yourself, hands falling to your sides where they twitch. Keegan was damn confusing, but he had never been outright numb like that to you besides when you both first met. Your resentment flares in your breast, but with a shake of your head, you force it down. That wouldn’t help anyone, and you still wanted answers.

If this was how Keegan wanted to be then fine, you’d just have to ask Elias for his report when you got back and figure out for yourself why he had ruined the previous mission.

You grabbed a canteen of water and shuffled out the door, flicking off the light with a heavy finger and followed after the Ghost’s footsteps; dreading the Op but feeling your pulse beat at the thought of nabbing Teo once and for all.

This was ending. Today.

—

The aircraft landed just far enough away to be unseen by Federation soldiers and on the line of being annoyingly distant from the target. The hike would be through mountainous terrain – the land ravaged by the remnants of ODIN’s destruction and just beginning to heal. On top of steep cliffs, and sharp rocks, there would also be rampaging streams and thick foliage. Speaking from experience, you knew it was going to be a sweat-inducing mission…and that was before you got to the main point of it all.

Both of you disappear into the treeline after the pilot tells you the future Evac Point, hoofing it at a jog into the shadows and blending in like animals. Under your feet, the leaves crush, telling stories of where you placed your weight as the packs over your body jump with every jerk forward. Keegan takes the lead, silently expecting you to follow as your eyes stare into his back.

He still hadn’t talked to you. It made your skin crawl.

Watching his gait, you frown and clench your jaw. Why did it bother you so much? Wasn’t this what you wanted all along…for him to leave you alone?

Sighing, you hop over a downed log, seeing Keegan quickly send a look behind him at your form before snapping his head forward.

“There’s an old structure west of the Warehouse – a hunting lodge still standing from before ODIN was fired, I found it on one of my other Ops,” You call, moving faster to run side-by-side with the man. Dodging a tree, your tongue runs over your lips, “We should set up there – we’d have a clear shot.”

For a moment there was only the sound of shoved foliage, steady breaths, and clinking gear before Keegan replies.

“Affirm.”

He pulls ahead, and you’re left widely watching his shoulders, seeing the muscles under his attire ripple as they propel him faster away. Your eyelids narrow, a thin sneer flickering over your lips.

Keep your cool, You follow after, careful where you place your feet as the ground begins to ascend, If I get him in a good mood, maybe he’ll answer my questions later.

It was easier said than done, of course, and although your efforts were valiant, none of your plans to get him to speak to you landed. The hike ended with panted breaths and a setting sun, mist seeping like snakes over the rocks under your feet; the world was quiet, and try as you might you found a deep sense of loneliness in that. The pair of you were on top of a ridge, surrounded by deep green and gray. No birds sang, and no animals trampled the land – it was just the harsh wind and the creak of stretching metal from far ahead. The occasional smell of dirt that left your nose full of particles and led to coughing fits.

Perhaps Keegan had the right idea for a face covering, even if it was never intended for the reason of keeping the elements out.

The Warehouse was near a crater, one of the places ODIN had struck directly into the Earth, and teetered on the edge of oblivion as it was half-falling apart and drenched in red rust. Occasionally, as a tremor rolled through, pieces of it would fall off and slam to the ground a million miles away, deep into the crust of what was left.

Definitely a place for a safe house. No one would bother to look here unless you already knew about it or were hiding something.

Thinking to yourself, you rub the sweat off your nose with the back of your hand, eyes flickering to the hole in the Earth with shielded disgust. It had been over ten years, but the horror was still there. All of those innocent people…

“Here,” The smooth voice startles you, but your attention diverts quickly to the man at your side. His hands hold out a red cloth in his first and second fingers and pointedly avoids sneaking a peak at your shocked expression. Your mouth opens and closes, optics bouncing back and forth between the gift and the strange Ghost.

You could hear a pin drop if you had one to throw.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Your stench is going to alert the guards – wipe yourself off. I need to repeat myself, Princess?” With an unamused face, you snatch the textile and rub it over your heated skin, reveling in the dismissal of layers of salt.

“Asshole,” You mutter, “You better not have used this before me; if I get acne I’m shaving your head in your sleep and siccing Riley on you.”

“Sounds fun. Better make sure I’m dead by the end of it.”

“Trust me, I will. I’ll make sure to chuck your body from the Fort wall, too,” Sliding past him, you toss the cloth at his chest, “Hunting lodge is this way.”

You get so close your shoulders lightly brush, and although you hate the implications, the action leaves your chest tight as you inhale his scent of blood and shrill chemicals. Clenching your jaw, you don’t take in the way his warmth floods your veins or the cold gaze that follows your back as you walk away; briefly softening around the edges like a blunt blade before being sharpened once more under stone and rock.

Hearing his feet lightly caress the ground behind you, you let out a slow breath, shoving away a branch of a low tree and peeping back. Keegan's gaze locks on your own as if he was waiting for this, and you curse not being able to see his expression – but it wasn’t like that would give away anything either. The Ghost was blank, much like the bulletin board had been when you ripped your work from it.

Raising a dark brow, the man grunts under his breath in question as his large shadow leeks over your form.

“Nothin,’” You mutter and turn back, fixing the strap of your rifle and side step a piece of cut wood, looking like it was the remains of a windowsill that had been broken during the shockwave and flung from a house, “Thanks for the rag. Even if it did smell like Gun Oil.”

Blinking down at the forgotten object, your arms push through one more set of fauna and huff when you lay eyes on the run-down lodge that would be Base Camp. Rushing up the decaying steps, you push the paint-peeing door open and throw your hands out.

“And here we are,” Walking with acute familiarity into the one-room area, “Home sweet home,” You nod your head to the left, where a large window gives a clear view of the Warehouse down below, “We’ll take the shot from over there, but…here…where did I…?”

Stumbling to a stop, you take one step back and ignore the narrowed eyes on your back.

“The hell you looking for, Kid?”

“Shh,” You snap your fingers at a loose board near a broken-down TV stand, “There we go!” Jogging over, you place your foot on one end of the board and grab the now-propped-up opposite side with a heavy hand. Like a teeter-totter.

Tossing the wood away, you grab the stash you had hidden years ago and hold it aloft near your head as you turn around.

Keegan watches with small eyes, head tilted, and feeling a bit curious about where this was going. What were you holding in your hand…? Was that…?

“Chocolate bars? I thought those were under strict ration laws?” His booted feet carry him closer to you and the plastic bag holding three bars of the old treat, “Damn, Kid.”

The man didn’t ask how you knew they were there – at least, yet – but he had an idea. You had logged more hours outside than anyone else besides the Ghosts, and with your affinity to keep to your own, it was only common sense that you had stashes all over California.

“Special occasion,” You mutter, opening the bag and tossing him one. Of course, he catches it, flipping it over in his hands and rubbing a thumb over the wrapper. Keegan’s eyes filter back to yours slowly, and under him, his feet shuffle to shift his weight.

“Y’know these things are probably older than Fort Santa Monica, right? It’ll give you gut rot.”

“God, I hope so,” You rip the wrapper open and snap off a piece as you hear crinkling from the other bar being opened; you toss yours into your mouth and smirk, “Maybe Ajax’ll finally lend me his alcohol stash to help me out for once. Bastard keeps making excuses.”

The bar was a bit stale if you were being honest, but it was still chocolate in your books. Stuffing the rest of it in your side pocket, you slip the rifle from around your back and head to the window, with the butt of the gun you raise it up and bring it down. A corner of the glass shatters into a million pieces, falling to the ground outside like tiny stars and reflecting the dying light.

Far below, miles away, the Warehouse seems dead to the world, but your and Keegan’s trained eyes spy the microscopic shadows in the rust-strangled metal walls, slipping past like rats over the holes and windows.

“Visual?” The man next to you asks, pulling back down his balaclava, and your ears twitch as you gaze through your scope; watching with perfected focus. Pulling back with a grunt, you flip the gun and rest the barrel against the wall, sighing.

“Negative. There won’t be until the sun sets fully,” Keegan turns to look down at you, and the fabric around his mouth shifts into a frown. You raise a brow and explain, not needing him to ask his question, “I‘ve tracked this guy like a teenager on the internet who has a crush. I know his routine. When the sun sets he checks the perimeter with two of his guards, Fabián Julieta and Santos Rosa – I have reason to believe they’re his cousins, but it’s never been confirmed.”

“You sure he’ll do that?” Keegan scoffs, looking back out and tapping his fingers over his thigh holster, “There was just an attempt on his life. Not exactly the time to follow procedure.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to leave it to fate. Plus,” You can’t help but mutter, “We wouldn’t have been in this situation if you hadn’t messed up.”

The air thickens.

Keegan’s body stills, frozen like his bones had just been covered in frost and doused in frigid waters. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch with bated breath. But he notices the trap, it seems, because his neck never enters the snare laid out. The tension that had lived over you both like a dark cloud suddenly gained lighting, quick flashes of light over the sky.

“It’ll be too dark by then,” Is his only response – even if it’s clipped and growled out like a man ready to snap. He wanted to start an argument, you could tell with growing amusement. Keegan’s arms clench at his sides into shaking fists.

“Then it’s a good thing Ghosts can see in the dark,” You smirk, tilting your head to the side and beginning to reach for the rest of the chocolate bar resting in your pocket, “Isn’t that right? Make sure not to freak out and fire at the birds–!”

The hand latches onto your shoulder before you can process the man had even moved; eyes widening to the size of plates as the pressure snaps your body to face forward. You let out a light yip as your feet drag. Despite the hold being firm, Keegan’s fingers never dig too tight.

Your eyes level on his, gazing deep into his boiling blues that shimmer the longer you stare. Had the middle always had flecks of green? Inside your chest, your heart pounds like a drum as, behind the balaclava, his jaw clenches. Keegan’s breath is like a breeze over your hair, rustling it.

“Don’t…do that,” He says slowly. You just watch, wide-eyed, “Don’t speak on shit you have no idea about.”

Whatever had made your lungs constrict fled in an instant.

“What?” Your lips twist, “You mind telling me how I’d have ‘no idea’ about an Op I was supposed to come back with a confirmation of death on?”

You shove his arm off your shoulder and hate the way the chill of the air overtakes his warmth.

Keegan’s shoulders set, “Kid, I’m ordering you to–”

“Cut the shit!” You yell, finger going to shove into his face and watching his head whip to it before wafting back to your visage. If possible his shoulders widen even farther, legs tense and straight. This was it – your confusion would go no further, you decided, “You’re going to explain all of this, Keegan–!”

“Watch the damn volume–”

“Explain why I’m out here, why you messed up the mission–!”

“Listen to me. I need you to–”

“Why my fucking work was all wasted because you pulled the damn trigger and I’m reaping the consequences like an idiot with a guy who hates my guts–!”

“There was a sniper on the roof.”

Your rampage stops just as you were about to open your mouth once more. You stare at him at the bombshell, not even able to process it for a moment. Blinking, you realize you had moved Keegan backward so his back was pressed into the opposite wall; your body was pressed tightly up next to his. With every fast breath, you could feel your chest connect with his, and your finger was still against his peck, digging into the gear.

Sucking in a quick breath, you gathered what little courage you had gained and looked up into his face with a fire lit in your blood.

“...W-what?” Keegan’s body shifts and his arms go to grab your elbows.

He doesn’t move you, just gives them a firm squeeze and explains as his heart pounds in his chest. Under the cloth, his mouth is slightly parted, and his pupils are wide.

“Federation sniper,” He utters, blinking as your face goes void of emotion, “I didn’t know if he’d seen you yet, but I…”

The Ghost trails off as his thigh brushes yours, all of the pouches uncomfortable to feel digging into his skin, but worth it if he can make this right.

“Why…Why didn’t you tell me?” You whisper out, the skin of your eyebrows moving to press the tiny hairs closer together. This changed everything, “Why did you…?”

Keegan’s face is so close to yours that he can smell your shampoo through the dark fabric over his nose, suddenly suffocating on the comfort the covering usually brought him. Why was his heart racing in his chest? You were being irresponsible, yelling like that, and stubborn, hard-headed.

But, damn, if anger wasn’t a good look on you. Your body heat was leaking into him, making him swallow heavily.

“Because…knew you’d blame yourself,” He said simply, staring at you deeply as your expression softens just as Keegan’s body does against the wall; you lean in deeper to his hold, “Just didn’t expect you to take it all so hard.”

“What? You just wanted me to let it go?” You utter, feeling and finally admitting how addicting it felt to be this close to him. For the life of you, you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. What was happening?

“Again, didn’t know you’d take it so hard,” He raises a brow, grip falling from your elbows to lightly grab your hips. You force down a shiver, veins alight with molten lava at the strange contact. The Ghost continues, “Where’d you get the idea I hated you?”

Your throat swallows down saliva, not understanding the feeling in your gut.

Shit, You think, Maybe that chocolate was bad – my head’s spinning…All I can smell is Keegan. But why am I not trying to leave?

Just a moment ago you were angry at him, but now everything made sense. A sniper, God, he could have just told you. It would have fixed a lot of things.

You mull over his question; do you answer it honestly? But for some odd reason, your mouth runs faster than your mind – it always had, and certainly always would. At least around Keegan, that is.

A breaking point had been reached, wherever you went from here was entirely up to the two of you.

“You said you didn’t want me,” The man’s breath stills, and you feel it just as you hear it; his scanning optics halt their study of your features, as if he had been seeing them for the first time in this light, “That I’d get people killed…why…why do you think I always work by myself nowadays?” Your nose begins to hurt, eyes falling to Keegan’s chest. You try to shove it down, but your hand over his vest shakes slightly. Where was this coming from? Why were you telling him this? The source of your animosity, how you two became, at least in your mind, enemies, “I just didn’t want to be a problem.”

Muttering out the last sentence, you swear Keegan’s chest hitches, heart kickstarting.

“I…” He begins after a long moment of mutually avoiding eye contact. If you look into those beautifully cold blues you might break.

But voices from below snap whatever the both of you would externally loathe but internally revel in; the longing in the two pairs of eyes is replaced by duty and unsaid words. The action was mechanical, and both parties rushed to the window, with your fingers grasping the rifle and Keegan grabbing the binoculars from his largest pouch.

Like birds of prey, the two work in such sync that others would question if they even hated each other at all – and if they had seen the scene just moments prior the thoughts of denial would have been strengthened ten-fold.

Did you hate Keegan? Or did you hate what he had done? Now really wasn’t the time to question it, but as the Ghost called out the distance and spotted Vidal Teo in pitch darkness, you can’t help but mutter, “Knew you could see in the dark, Kee,” And lined up the shot.

Your finger pulls the trigger with little more than a second thought, and your shoulder catches the recoil with a grunt leaving your lips.

“Direct hit. Target down,” A soft hand squeezes your shoulder as you watch the body drop from the scope. Grim satisfaction breeds in your heart. Your eye roves to Keegan’s face, who nods his head at you, “It was a good shot, Princess.”

Face heating, all you do is scoff, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, well…I suppose you called it.”

“Really, you can’t just take the compliment?“

“Do you want me to beat you over the head with this rifle?”

You both stand up and send coded glances to the other, and where the backhanded comments would usually be hostile, the small differences in presentation lean more toward teasing than anything.

It was…nice. Foreign, but nice.

Chuckling, you toss the rifle around your back and listen to panicked voices echoing out from the warehouse. Keegan still stands near the window, with his back to it, while you inch to the door and itch at the back of your neck. He stares at you strangely, no doubt thinking about what you had confessed prior.

He had no idea you had heard the conversation with Elias. The Ghost’s chest constricts, remembering the words he had said in concern and anger. Had you really heard all of it? That would explain the sudden cold attitude that was mirrored back to him all those months ago.

Damn, Keegan blinks, and his head tilts as you stare back at him with a questioning expression. Your face was innocent with sweaty flesh filled with dust and grime. His fingers itched to wipe away the slash of black dirt from your forehead and, against his will, his stone blue softened to water in his eye sockets.

Your lips twitch at the rare expression. You had a lot to talk about when you both get back to base.

“We should get going before–”

Glass shatters, and a loud pop like an opening soda can startles you so bad you swore your heart stopped. Two things happen in that instance that will be ingrained into your head forever, carved like a scar in the fine tissue and tender to the touch.

One, his blood splattered your face, making you blink rapidly and reel back.

Two, the sound of Keegan’s hitting the floor – deadweight – and the loud gasp that exits his mouth, all the air expelled from his lungs not allowing him to even scream.

“Keegan!” You yell, rushing over and grabbing onto his shoulders, flipping him over with a grunt and panicked breath as you brush away the crimson from your eye sockets with a fast hand, “Shit!”

His body slams once more to the old wood, this time his back now on the floor. Blood pools down from a gunshot wound over his right abdomen, and your eyes land on it immediately, lungs struggling to suck down air.

Below you, Keegan lets out a wheezing sound, arm coming half-up to clench in the space above him, shaking violently.

“Fucken’...” The man gasps, and his body jerks, trying to move despite the hole in his side. Your fingers rip open your medical pouch, eyes darting back to the window. You lightly stand up, frantic eyes darting and freezing. Spying a glint of light reflected from the moon, you quickly dip back to the floor.

Sniper scope.

Rushing to grab Keegan under the shoulders, he yells out curses as you drag him to the side and out of the line of sight of the window. Tearing out a rag and a roll of gauze from your stash, you look at his face as you shove the cloth against the leaking wound, bunching the fabric and working it into the crater.

Keegan snarls, head going back to slam to the floor as his eyes flutter. Those blues of his were wide and whizzing back and forth in a primal display, and behind the balaclava, you could see his throat bob with strangled, open-mouthed, breaths. Fuck, fuck, fuck…!

“Hey!” You shout, bringing up one hand and lightly slapping his cheek as you lean your body weight into his side. Your heart was going too fast, it was going to break out of your chest if you didn’t get a grip. But…Keegan’s blood was staining your hands; leaking down your face to drip from your chin. And the fact remained that the Federation soldiers now knew your position and were rushing to the dilapidated lodge. You needed to get him out of here, “Keep your damn eyes open – the only person who gets to kill you is me!”

“What…what the fuck, Princess?”

“You heard me!” Your body was shaking just as much as Keegans as you gnash your teeth together, “‘Doesn’t listen,’ my ass, your ears work less than mine do.”

You’re panicking; using born and breed sarcasm and clipped words to ease you back into focus.

You had to move him – had to get him out of here. But would you be able to? He was big; far larger than you and weighed twice as much in muscle alone, not to mention the gear... Your mind did the math even as you pleaded with it not to.

He would have to help you on his own if this was going to work. And that meant keeping him conscious.

Keegan lets out a loud cough, and your fingers itch to move his face-covering so he can breathe better. But you unravel the gauze instead, going to shift his body to wrap it around the rag – holding it in place.

“Gotta’ move,” He snarls at you, trying to keep the pain at bay as it sweeps over him like waves of water, in and out, in and out.

“Working on it.”

Right as you tie off a tight knot on the already bloody wrappings, the Ghost tries to get up, an arm turning to slam to the floor behind him and vibrate as he forces his weight on it. Knowing that was a bad idea but not having another choice, you loop one of his arms over your shoulders and grunt. Bearing the brunt of his weight you hold your breath and angle your feet; shoving with all of your strength and gasping out.

“What the hell do you eat, man? Rocks?” As you grip with your free hand at his limp wrist, you take a quick glance at Keegan when you don’t hear a response. When he’s up, one of your hands goes to wrap around his waist.

The man’s eyes were fluttering fast, pupils retracted in pain. The blood leaking from him stains your body as you hike his form closer to you, feeling the warmth of the flesh enter your skin like a candle’s flame.

“Keegan!” You call, shaking his body. The man lets out a low groan, sharp eyes snapping to yours. You're taken aback when you see them immediately soften as they land on your panic-laced form, “You’ve gotta help me, okay?”

Speaking slowly, you hope he listens as he blinks at the blood on your face, eyebrows tensing.

“Copy,” He mutters and sends about the closest he can to a stiff nod your way.

Immediately all weight is taken from your hold and he stumbles to stand up straight, a hand snapping to his side as his feet drag.

“Not all of it! Idiot!” Growling, you rip him back to you, hissing in disapproval as he lets out a deep curse; nearly falling into you. Forcing him forward, you go as fast as you’re able to the entrance door and already a sheen of exertion is falling over your face. How the hell is he so heavy?

“Fuckin’ confusing, Kid…Just tell me what you– what you want, I’m bleeding out here,” Keegan barks, annoyance falling from him onto you. Was it really that impossible for the two of you to get along that you were fighting while he was seeping crimson all over you? You were getting along just a second ago.

“You’re impossible, Keegan Russ,” You lock onto him in the corner of your eye as you practically drag him to the door, shoving it open with your shoulder. Your fingers dig into his side and his wrist, trying not to get distracted by the strong muscle you feel writhing under your touch. Without meaning to, your grip had gravitated under his shirt, touching bare skin littered with scars and burns – hot and pulsing with life.

Your grip goes deeper, nails creating crescent moons in his flesh as you, somehow, get him down the stairs without falling flat on your face.

Did he just shiver?

“Evac point,” Muttering to yourself, you move faster, heart beating as shouts echo out over the hills, “Shit.”

“Focus,” Keegan utters to your side, “Don’t think about it. What…what’ll happen will happen.”

“Bullshit,” You growl and glance back to see the trail of blood over the ground. Shaking your head you stumble into the treeline, mouth open to help you suck down more air into your lungs, “If you expect me to believe that, you’re a fool.”

“..Maybe,” He coughs, and you have to pause for a moment and look in concern as dark phlegm splatters to the ground. No, you think, no not yet. He can’t do this to you, “Maybe I have been.”

“What,” You attempt a wet chuckle, not liking the conversation but if it kept him awake you would entertain it, “It only took you taking a shot to the side to realize that? There’s no hope for you, Kee.”

“Like when you call me that,” Lips thinning, you work your legs faster, dodging a rock and shimmying past a tree, “Sounds nice.”

Your face heats at the shock-induced confession, breath inhaled in a sharp breath.

You look at him, only to find his eyes already locked on your visage. The unrelenting optics ripped you open with how lucid they looked, even if his mouth seemed to have lost its filter. Taking it as a good sign, you tear your head back to the front, biting into your lips as your legs shake.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” You whisper, clearing your throat as Keegan lets out a small strangled sound from the back of his mouth as you stumble over a log on the ground, “But keep talking to me, yeah?”

“I don’t hate you,” He confessed with a soft voice, “...Was jus’ worried you would hurt yourself. Too hard-headed for your own good.”

“Could say the same thing about you,” Your lungs are burning, but you remind yourself it’s not even half as much pain as Keegan is going through. He carries himself so well, even holding some of his own weight to help you. How was he even still standing? If you had gotten shot like that, you’d be screaming your head off.

He’s a Ghost, You remind yourself, They defy all laws of nature and common sense.

“I’m sorry, Kid,” That makes you stop, body halting halfway through a step as your face blanks, panting out air and eyes popping out at the weak words, “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

Swallowing down saliva into your dry throat, your mind tells you to keep moving. The meeting in Elias’s office…he was…he was apologizing to you? Stuttering only a moment, you resume your break-neck journey with a burning face and jumping heart.

“Apology not accepted,” You growl, sending a sharp glance his way. Keegan’s eyes widen in surprise – but they look slightly buggy, “When we get back to the Fort, you’re saying it again…When you’re not getting me all covered in your fluids.”

The chuckle he lets out startles you, but you resist the urge to bring him even closer to your form and bask in his heat. He was…nice to feel against you, you admitted. Strong. Comforting in a rabid dog sort of way.

“Yeah, but you’d like…like that wouldn’t you, Princess?”

…Did he just..? When your jaw drops in shock, he lets out another gasping chuckle that divulges into a coughing fit. Getting your bearing back, you roll your eyes above the embarrassment in your blood even as your lower body pulses. Your legs shuffle as your breath goes thin.

“Let’s keep the dirty jokes under wraps, too, okay?... Who knew blood loss made you into a fucking comedian? Mr. Stand-Up over here.”

“Hm,” Keegan grunts, wheezing in a breath. You watch a dribble of blood fall from the side of his mouth with a grim face, mind running.

He can’t die, You shake with nerves and adrenaline, I won’t let him.

There was a brimming affection for the man you had been forcing down like a mouthful of food, and his drunk honestly right now was throwing you for a loop.

“I’ll get you to the Evac point, Keegan, I promise,” The shouts were getting closer, and the Ghost’s eyes were falling closed once more.

You wanted to see his face – make him stare at you.

“Know you will,” His eyes clenched closed and you felt his weight fall more over you. Groaning breathily, you take it and continue onward with little concern for how your nerves tingle, “Y’know,” The next words he says are so muffled you barely hear them, but when your brain processes the gravel and sifts through the depth of it, you feel tears wet the sides of your vision, “I think I a-actually like you, Kid.”

Keegan goes slack, and the sounds of shouting grow ever closer. It takes everything in you not to scream out.

—

He wakes up with a buzzing in his ears and a bright light assaulting his eyes. It takes Keegan a good while to fully open his eyelids, flinching as the bulbs set into the ceiling seem to only get more violent as his senses come back to him.

A groan exits his lips, and the scent of bleach and sterile air makes his head rove on the hard pillow under it.

“Well,” A masculine voice results in Keegan jolting up like he was hit with an electrical current, body spasming at him to stay still but not able to stop the ingrained instincts in his head, “Took you long enough. Ajax was just about losing his mind for one of you two to wake up. Had to order him to go run laps.”

“Merrick,” Keegan clenches his hands in pain, but his eyes fall to the man sitting in one of the visitor chairs at the door. The Medical Ward's familiar walls soon entered his sight, and ignoring the flair of agony in his bandaged side, the dark-haired man brought a hand to his face. Keegan takes a deep breath and flinches, “Explain.”

“What happened,” Standing, the stocky man cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders before glancing down to his side. Merrick points over Keegan's shoulder and nods his head, “Is that the girl dragged your limp ass all the way to the Evac point with a bullet wound in ‘er shoulder. Took out a few soldiers as well – one helluva hot exit.”

Sneaking a peak back, Keegan was stunned to find a matching hospital bed not a few feet from his own, a rack for a curtain drawn back to allow a view of a woman asleep; her right arm was in a sling and heavily bandaged, the covers pulled back to her midsection. You. His eyes stay locked on your form, momentarily forgetting the pulling of sutures in his side.

You had…gotten shot. Protecting him.

“How bad,” His lips move faster than his head, a trait he was beginning to pick up and associate with only you.

“You needed to go into surgery–”

“Not me,” Keegan growled, itching at the gown that had been put on him. His eyes never left you, the peaceful expression on your face he had never seen before leaving a warm feeling in his gut. With a sigh, he mutters out with a tone far softer than it had been before, “Her.”

Merrick smirks, watching the rise and fall of your chest and seeing Keegan doing the same, just far more closely.

“Prescribed pain meds and on leave for two months. It was a clean shot – lucky for her.”

Keegan nods his head stiffly, moving the pillows up on the elevated mattress and leaning back with a throaty groan.

“I’ll go tell Elias you’re awake,” Merrick swiftly turns and opens the door, but pauses in the opening. The other man watches closely with a frown. Without turning around, Thomas utters, “Kid was pretty shook up when you wouldn’t come ‘round. You should fix that.”

The Ghost disappears and closes the door behind him.

Blinking at the wooden barrier, Keegan wastes no time in pushing back the covers of his bed and pressing his feet to the floor; hissing at the chill but only running a hand through his hair in retaliation. His dark eyes watched you as he gritted his teeth at the strain in his side, the faint ripping of stitches.

The pain didn’t bother him, didn’t sway his actions. His socked feet move over the floor to stand above you. He breathes slowly, sucking down cool air as he pauses for a minute or two.

“You’re something else, Kid,” Keegan whispers, cold eyes narrowing as his thumb goes to swipe away the dirt smudge on your forehead with delicate movements. He didn’t want to wake you.

The mirror across the room shows a beast of a man carefully cleaning the face of a woman who murmurs to herself, shifting closer to the hold with a small sigh. Keegan, whose lips quirk in a small smile that pulls at scars and black, irreversible, face paint, finds the warmth in his blood addicting. His heart slowly speeds up, and although crimson was staining his bandages, he couldn’t find it in him to go back to bed.

“If you keep doing that,” Your voice snaps him out of his stupor, and his hand is snatched back to his side in an instant; feet shoulder length apart and tense, “I just might die on you.”

The light above you plays in your eyes, bouncing off the color and reflecting it directly into Keegan’s iris as the skin of your eyelids peel back. You blink up at him, vision coming back into focus as you stretch your legs out under the covers.

Sending a small smile to his blank face, you chuckle, “What?” You groan, “I was being sarcastic.”

A smirk is all you get, a slight twitching at the side of his lips at the fatigue in your tone.

“How long?” Keegan asks, raising a dark brow. Knowing what he’s asking, you scoff, face bright.

“Only about five minutes. I caught the end of Merricks conversation,” You reply.

“Hm.”

“Don’t give me that look – I’m in the room, what do you want me to do…not listen? Tch,” Your hand presses into the mattress, shoving you up.

A hand splays over your back immediately to help.

Goosebumps litter your arms as Keegan’s grip lightly digs into your gown, assisting you where your other arm can’t. Sparing him a glance, you watch with heat on your ears and neck as his attention remains solely fixated on you. Blue breaks open your skin and infects you with its chill. Liking the feel of it, you let it in and embrace it.

When you’re sitting up, silence ensues, with Keegan’s eyes studying your body as you do the same. His hand remained on your back.

Does he remember what he said? You wonder, locking on the thick wrappings under the man’s gown with a frown, Or was he too out of it?

“Feelin’ alright, Princess?” Your eyebrows raise as he tilts his head.

“I should be asking you that.”

“We both got shot,” Keegan shoots back, and the black around his eyes creases as he deadpans at you.

“You passed out – I didn’t. Don’t blame me because you decided to take a nap, Big Guy.”

“So, you’re just full of nicknames now, are you?”

“Hm,” You smirk, voice low and teasing, “Perhaps…Raccoon Eyes.”

Keegan scoffs, turning his head away in exasperation. You were both the same people from hours ago, but something felt different – the air was lighter, bordering on sacred. Looking at each other with hesitant vulnerability, hearts yearning but not quite certain where to begin. So many jagged pieces of glass to buffer out, smooth along the edges, and pray that they became mosaics of brightly colored perfection that glittered in the sunlight. But you could still slice your fingers open, despite the years of practice and knowledge of that sacred art, feel the blood splatter the table and leak into the fine lines of your palm.

But, perhaps, it was time to try.

“I guess I owe you one,” You admit awkwardly, suddenly avoiding eye contact and feeling sheepish. This was new to you, “You saved me from a sniper but I couldn’t see the one behind you.”

“You owe me twice, then,” When you send him a scalding look, he puffs out a breath to show it was a joke and continues as you roll your eyes and smile softly, “..but, uh,” Keegan clears his throat, “Don’t…worry about it, Kid,” Your eyes snap to his side profile, blinking in shock as his eyes rove the room, watching the cracks in the floors as you gape at him. Why…why did he sound like that? Like the gravel in his words had smoothed over and was suddenly a paved road with moss along the edges; gentle to the touch. And why did your heart skip a beat at it, “Forget about it.”

“...What?” Your voice is small, genuine confusion whispered out as you watch the muscles in his face move. Keegan’s jaw was clenched, his nose scrunching as he rolled it and fixed his stance. It was adorable the way he was trying not to face you.

His head turns to his gear that Merrick had placed on the large table across the room. You watch him lightly limp to it, mind still trying to think through what was going on. His shredded hand goes to the back pocket of his folded cargo pants, and your ears twitch at a crinkling nose. The Ghost pulls out an empty chocolate wrapper and you feel your heart stop all together when he holds it aloft. He shuffles back over.

“It was alright, little stale, but not bad,” Those steel blue eyes slide to yours, and your face heats; throat tightens. Since when has your pulse rampaged like that outside of a gun battle? Keegan’s lips quirk into a slow smirk at your expression, “Not bad at all. I’m sorry that I ate it all.”

You have to look away before you pass out, all confidence now gone and dignity stomped on when you realized that you liked when he looked at you with those eyes of his. Your hand clenches over the covers, finding that double meaning with brimming affection.

Oh, you just hated him…but your breath still gets stolen all the same.

“Yeah, well,” Your hand goes to scratch at the back of your neck to ground yourself, “Don’t get used to it, Kee. That bar was worth like fifty bucks if we’d have just sold it.”

You decide his laugh is better than any old chocolate bar, and that you wanted to taste it on your tongue until the very sun died out. Until your bones were bleach white from age.

There was no doubt he remembered what he had told you as you dragged him along, scared and wishing he would stay awake; that was simply judging by the sparkle in his pupil and the way he was facing you now.

Smirking, you raise a brow and grab the man by the collar of his gown.

Ah, what the hell. Better to start strong.

When you smash his lips to yours, you decide right then and there when Keegan melts into you, his hand going to grip the back of his head, that maybe being enemies wasn’t so bad at all.

#keegan p russ #keegan russ #call of duty keegan #cod fandom #cod fanfic #cod #cod ghosts #cod keegan #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #x female reader #female reader

2K notes · View notes

changbunnies · 4 months

Text

Crave, Part 1 (18+)

♡ Pairing: Romantic Demon!Hyunjin x Human Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: supernatural au, demon au, age gap relationship typical in monster fucker fics, intended to be porn with plot but atm there is more plot than porn lol

♡ Word Count: 3.6k

♡ Summary: "The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain." - Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy. In which Hyunjin, a demon from the nine circles of hell, finds himself impossibly infatuated with the very human he once set upon himself to destroy.

♡ Warnings: don’t read if you’ll be uncomfortable over talks about religion from the perspective of a demon!, themes of sexual purity in the context of religion, a lot of immoral behavior and thoughts + ideas from hyunjin, supernatural abilities, themes of possesiveness, the seven deadly sins are brought up multiple times, hyun is thousands of years old so take that as you will lol, hell's structure is based off dante alighieri's depiction of it in the divine comedy but knowledge of it isn't necessary to enjoy this fic!

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): there isn't really any overt smut in this first part it's more like referenced sexual activity, masturbation, voyeurism (hyun is watching reader while they're unaware he is there), porn watching

♡ Notes: after receiving feedback, i'll now be posting my long fics in multiple parts as i finish them like i do on ao3 instead of waiting until it's finished to post here! i'm taking a break from my royal au series to finally write out this fic i've had rattling in my brain since last september but never got around to writing until this past month :') idk how long this will be in the end but i'm planning at least 3 parts! i hope you stick around till the end <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There are many things in this world, the world of humans, that even a monster such as Hyunjin was born to desire. A primal want, weaved into the very fabric of his being, designed to be etched into his soul- if he had one, that is. That is what initially brought him here; the heart of one of the world's most populated cities, his territory an otherwise unoccupied luxury suite in one of the many skyrises that line the bustling streets.

It was an ideal place to be; there wasn't much in the way of furniture, given that it's a new development with no human occupants, but the amenities it held were sleek and pristine. High windows that overlooked the entirety of the city rife with sin from what was nearly the top floor, marble countertops that screamed sophistication and elegance, and well equipped with security of both the physical and digital kind to keep out those who may want to chase the thrill of wandering where they do not belong. Hyunjin, who could simply float about wherever he wished, had no need for human things like beds or sofas.

In this space, he already had everything he needed- an ideal vantage point, isolation from the world until he himself chose to interact with it, and easy access to the myriad of damned soul that walked the streets beneath him. It was perfect, and it was his- until you showed up.

Hyunjin was no stranger to dealing with potential renters overtaking his territory- it was only natural for those with wealth to be ready to spend a fortune on the newest availble luxury apartment that catches their eye. While Hyunjin had never once been seen; he was certainly known; rumors abound of an evil presence in suite 13, that left even non-believers fleeing in terror, leaving as quickly as they came. "Evil" felt a bit extreme of a description from Hyunjin's perspective, but what would humans truly understand of him?

He always felt as if his actions were completely justified; after all, why should a being with immense power such as him bend to the will of a measely human whose life was akin to a grain of sand in the desert of immortality that was his own lifespan? Regardless of his justifications and thoughts on what is evil and what isn't, he welcomed the fear humans have towards him- it made his life easier if they feared him and stayed far from his domain.

And yet here you were, seemingly ignorant of the fearful reputation this apartment held (not that he expected that the building's landlord would have informed you of it, of course- their only goal is money, at the end of the day.) Hyunjin didn't care for the rules of humans- whether or not you'd supplied the necessary money to purchase your way here or were deserving of it made no difference to him. It was his until he decided otherwise, and you were trespassing on his territory by being here.

When he'd first arrived back after a long outing back in his home within the second circle of the nine hells, only to see you filling his space with your things, walking about the apartment as if you owned it, blissfully unaware of his presence- it was infuriating. He had half a mind to scare you out right then, forever scar you by showing you his true form, send you running as he'd done to countless before you who tried to be here. But no, that wouldn't be enough. It would be letting you off too easily for his liking; this was different than scaring off someone who might intrude on his home- you already had.

What he wanted was more than his territory back- he wanted to make you suffer the most egregious torment one could ever endure for intruding on it, something far worse and much harsher than whatever a demon below his stature could muster. You deserved worse than that of mild terror, or to be able to flee from his space without repercussions for your transgression. No, he would only take back what was his after he'd turned your mind into a den of paranoia and hysteria. You needed to know true terror, true loss, true suffering, by his hand.

So he settled for observing you- it would be a longer process, one that could easily take months to reach true fruition, but the reward would be well worth his patience. He watched carefully, intently, his presence always concealed but unmistakably there. You would feel it sometimes, unbeknownst to yourself. A sudden chill up your spine, the subtle feeling of being watched making you turn your head, only to be met with nothing unusual in your line of sight. Funny, how humans were so attuned to the supernatural while simultaneously being so oblivious to their reality.

Your routines became committed to his memory, your every step and every action becoming increasingly familiar to him. Boring at times, but necessary if he wanted to learn the ins and outs of what makes you you, taking in every detail and memorizing them fully, so that when the day comes for him to turn your life into a miserable tragedy, forming you into a shell of who you once were, you'd have to beg him for forgiveness, for his mercy.

What were your fears? He'd easily make them reality. What did you hate? He'd make sure you suffered it. What broke your heart? He'd subject you to that pain over and over, until your heart was left shattered into a million, microscopic pieces. And it was only then, when you were mentally destroyed, the lowest you could ever possibly be and unrecognizable in your despair, that he'd appear before you, triumphant as he made you apologize for ever having stepped foot in his domain.

But as he observed you, he came to realize something strange- something he had never once found himself thinking about a human before. You were so... good, the closest to perfection a human could ever possibly be. And not perfect by the bullshit puritan standards set by the "heavenly creator," because you were as touched by sin as any human is, but perfect to him specifically.

Your sins were few and far between, with only one making a substantial impact on your purity; but it was the most important, most delicious sin of them all, the one that made Hyunjin's body seethe with delectable desire. You weren't envious, nor greedy or gluttonous; you lived in a luxurious penthouse suite, that was true, but greed to have the best of everything isn't what brought you here. The pride you felt for your accomplishments didn't go anywhere near sinful levels- you were proud of yourself, but not in such a way that you looked down on others while you sat atop your high horse.

You weren't slothful, brought to your current position by your own hard work and tireless efforts, and you weren't wrathful either, your emotions toward your fellow man always sweet, compassionate, and gracious. That only left one sin- just one that impacted your soul, that barred you from reaching true, godly purity.

Lust.

It wasn't an unhealthy amount of lust by any means, but any at all is enough to damn an unmarried woman's soul if she gives in to the temptation- an unfair ruling that has cost many their rightful place in paradise. And you certainly did give in to your temptation, and that is what made you perfect to him. You had none of the avarice of other humans, none of the undesirable qualities that made them foolish and arrogant and insufferable to deal with, instead held closely by one desire, the most important desire.

Was it a coincidence, he wondered? That he, a demon born of lust himself, found one such human that seemed to adhere perfectly to what he enjoys most? Hyunjin often felt himself above that of the sins his brothers were born to pursue. Violence did not suit him, emotions such as greed, pride, and jealousy often went beyond his comprehension. And not because he was some lowly, ignorant creature who was only capable of thinking with his dick, but because those feelings simply never came to him to begin with.

What was there to be jealous of? If he wanted something, he could have it, he could take it, as simple as that. Was he prideful? Sure, one could say he was, say that he had an ego, but he would argue that there was a clear difference between the arrogance that often comes with pride, and simply having confidence in one's own abilities and joy in their accomplishments.

He knew he could feel other emotions, indulge in other sins, if his brothers' conquests and actions were any tell, but he simply.. didn't. Lust was all he knew, was all that he enjoyed, but at the same time, he wasn't some low level demon who was consumed by lust. No, he could control it quite easily if he wished, was more than capable of waiting for the most ideal moment to finally savor in the addictive dance two bodies can share. (Or more than two bodies, should one prefer that.)

Lust was all he ever knew, but unlike the sex-starved beasts he ruled over and observed in his circle within hell, he was very much in control of himself. Make no mistake, it never went away, he always felt the gnawing craving for more and more and more- but it never addled his mind. That was the perk of being a demon with a higher consciousness than that of say.. an imp. He had complete control of his compulsions and desires.

It was this control over himself that led to Hyunjin savoring the lust that poured from human souls in only the most ideal conditions. There were many different kinds of lust, each with their own "taste" so to speak, and while Hyunjin found them all enjoyable to at least some degree, there was one in particular that was the most intoxicating to him, one that never failed to light a fire within him, the one that was always, always, worth waiting for.

The lust between two lovers, whose care for eachother was true, and good, and special- such as you would see from couples sleeping together for the first time, full to the brim with nervous excitement. Or maybe from long-time lovers reigniting their spark with a romantic night spent together after a warm, candlelit date. Especially delectable was the sweet consummation after making an eternal promise under God to be together forever, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part. Those are just a few examples of the sort of lust that gave Hyunjin the best, sweetest taste.

The irony of being an immoral entity who gained the most enjoyment out of love and romance wasn't lost on him, but his preferences weren't built on some misconceived notion that he could aspire to feel those things himself. Yes, Hyunjin knew he would never feel the human emotion that was love, but he could understand, at least on a superficial level, why it tasted so sweet, and why humans seemed to fight for that feeling above all else.

Perhaps he existed to be a hypocrite, sowing seeds of chaos and turmoil while valuing true love, contradicting that which humans believed they knew about demons of lust such as himself. After all, was it not the very nature of a demon to confuse, contradict, and twist the human condition? And was it not utterly against his being to indulge in a feeling that was considered sacred by God? It didn't matter either way; if there was one thing that Hyunjin knew for certain, it was that sweet tastes were the best, and it didn't matter where it originated from or how- he just knew he liked it.

And oh, how his proverbial heart jolted when he sensed it on you the first time he saw you touching yourself. It was a surprise when, after a long day of unpacking and arranging furniture, you let your hand travel sinfully between your legs with a heady sigh- and far be it from Hyunjin to deny himself the opportunity to feed on a human's lust when it's practically being delivered to him on a silver platter. You hadn't been touching yourself for long, barely got your panties down your legs when he tasted it- subtle, but familiar enough to Hyunjin that he could recognize it anywhere.

It was hard to explain the sweet taste in human terms- there were really no words that could come close to describing it, as the "flavor" itself didn't exist within human understanding. Suffice it to say, it was something entirely unique to his kind, and something any demon would be able to distinguish with ease should they be in close enough proximity. It was unmistakable- you loved someone. That was information that could serve him well, something that he should be delighted to know he could ruin you with. And yet, for the first time in all his thousands of years, the feeling of lustful love left a bitter taste on his tongue.

You were in love.. And you envisioned that person while your fingers were buried between your legs, as you bit your lip and made your eyes roll to the back of your skull. Who was it? Why did you love them? Were they even deserving of someone as perfect as you? Did they deserve to touch you? To feel you? Hyunjin grit his teeth, fists clenching into tight balls as an unfamiliar feeling began to permeate through the entirety of his being.

Is this.. what envy feels like? A rage beyond comprehension at the thought of someone else having you when it should be him? He should be the one you desired to have touching you, the one you imagined marking your unmarred skin, the one who made you cry out and tremble with even the simplest of touches. Would they even indulge in the sweet taste you radiate like he would? Would they even understand what perfection it is you offer simply by being? His, you should be his, only his, his, his.

The realization hit Hyunjin like cold water over hot skin- he wants you. And not just for one night, not superficially, not with needing to part ways afterwards. He wants you to love him, wants the feeling of love-drenched lust that radiates off you to be because of him, wants you to belong to him and him alone. You don't know him yet, but you will. And he'll make sure you're left wanting him, and only him, by any means necessary. Because it's what he wants, and he always gets what he wants.

Hyunjin wants to say it's simple curiosity that leads him to carefully stealing your phone off your nightstand once you've fallen asleep, or that's acting with the desire to know how to ruin the target of his ire more succinctly, but that simply isn't true. No, he is scrounging through your phone not with the intent to learn your greatest fears and hates, nor does he scour your messages to discover your darkest secrets.

It's a different purpose that has led him here, an unfamiliar ache that drives him to search your phone for something more. In hindsight, going through your phone to learn about you is a simple, easy act he could've, should've, done already, but he's a bit of a traditionalist in that regard. (Or maybe he just doesn't want to admit how much he's liked watching you these past few weeks.)

Who is that you love? And why? It would've been easier for him to find out had you truly let yourself go, allowed yourself to be loud and moan their name to your heart's content, but you hadn't. And maybe that was a good thing, as hearing someone else's name leave your lips in such a moment would've definitely sent him into a dangerous hate spiral, but that also meant he was left with nothing to go on as a clue.

He was much too stunned, and then seething with anger and jealousy, to read your thoughts in the moment, and if he tried to do so now, while you were sleeping, all he would do is catch a glimpse of your dreams- not helpful in the slightest, unless you happen to be dreaming of the object of your desire. (Which you weren't. He already looked.)

Unlocking your phone is easy, as he's seen you put in your password several times over at this point. Unfortunately for him however, (and fortunate for the one undeserving of Hyunjin's wrath,) he finds nothing that makes the object of your affection explicitly obvious. Your texts with friends all use the same tone, you talk about mundane things like what movies are coming out or how you wish you could go on a vacation for a while.

Your photo gallery is relatively small, filled mostly by screenshots of things you wish to remember or keep for a laugh, and the occasional selfie. There's nothing that screams "this is the person i'm in love with!" no matter where in your phone he looks, and if it wasn't for how intensely he felt the emotion radiating from you as your fingers sped up and release built, he'd think he must have imagined it.

What interesting this he does find, however, are the differen't porn links littered through your incognito tabs, all that paint a very vivid picture of what you find most appealing, or in more vulgar terms, what gets your pussy really fucking wet. He skims through your collection of favorites and private bookmarks, and quickly comes to realize they all hold a similar theme- love, romance, and doms who are soft even when being rough with the sub's body or speaking condescending words.

Various videos and audio files, with titles such as "roommate gets railed after confessing her secret feelings," "pov: boy next door accidentally confesses and then fucks you passionately," and "soft dom makes his good girl cum hard: boyfriend asmr." There's even an entire erotic movie, much to Hyunjin's surprise, with a 2 hour run time and dedicated plot in your recent bookmarks.

He decides to watch it, for research purposes of course- what better way to get to know the object of his desire than by watching the porn she consumes for himself? It's rather generic as far as ideas go- childhood best friends confessing their love before going away to college, with sweet, sensual but desperate fucking and a promise they'll be in love no matter the distance put between them. A cliché plot, by human media standards.

However, he has to give it due props- it's obviously not an amateur production. It's acted well, has better cinematography than one might expect for a film produced by a porn studio, and the dialogue never crosses into cringe, overtly fake territory. Despite it all, something about it feels real, as if he'd taken a genuine glimpse into the lives of two young people in love, rather than a manufactured video meant to make the people who watch it unbearably horny.

Hyunjin continued through your collection after that, eager to see what other gems lied in your favorites, waiting to be watched by him. They're all the same fundamentally speaking, your preferences and biases easily shining through with each video watched and audio listened to. Emotionally charged, romantic confessions, sweet "i love you"s, soft, caring doms who take good care of the submissive one, making them feel desired, beautiful, and secure.

The person you're in love with, the one who lingers in your mind when you watch these videos and your hand travels between your legs- this is what you want them to do. You want them to love you passionately, to make you fall apart in the sweetest of ways, to take care of you so well that your thoughts can linger on nothing but the way they make you feel. You want them to sweetly tell you they love you while they fuck you, to speak filthy words in your ears in a soft, saccharine voice as they make you cum. To fuck you dumb, to ruin you, and then expertly put you back together with a tender touch.

Carefully, he puts your phone back in its place, looking at you once he's done, still sound asleep in your bed and without a clue in the world that there's a demon standing before you, close enough to touch. You've lived with Hyunjin for weeks now, but you don't know who he is, don't know that he's there, don't know that you have unexpectedly become the reason for a demon's strange and new complex emotions. Isn't it funny? How a demon as powerful as him has become infatuated with you despite you not even knowing he exists.

It's illogical to desire you, truly. Humans are fickle, subject to corruption and irrationality, their lives impossibly short. What one man works his entire life to obtain, Hyunjin can have in mere moments with a fraction of the effort. To a being that has lived thousands of years, the life of a human happens in a mere blink. You grow old, you get sick, you die, your accomplishments fade to nothing, forgotten as the next wave of humans walk the earth in your stead. You're beneath him, he's better than you, and yet..

Why does he still crave you so? Maybe he's no better than the humans he's looked down upon, considering them lesser for their innate hypocrisies and irrational actions- because Hyunjin is about to do just the same. His feelings for you are hypocritical, irrational, foolish, but also the most real thing he's ever felt. And if it's romance you want, that will make you fall head over heels for him, then he'll be the most romantic demon the nine hells have ever known.

#skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #hyunjin smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

240 notes · View notes

weirdly-specific-but-ok · 2 months

Text

pt IV doctor who but i've never watched it but i know loads about it for sure

It's half past 4 am and I definitely remember everything that you maggots yelled at me about this show I definitely do

There is a slutty head preserved in a jar that had many babies

There is a Doctor who was an OG doctor and his name was Wren or something no WILF RIGHT YES SOMEONE SAID THE DILF THE MILF AND THE HOLY WILF

Michael Sheen is a sexy planet with a mouth

Neil Gaiman wrote some episodes and it was very cool I think he made Michael Sheen the sexy planet

David Tennant I know you all love David Tennant well FUCKING HERE THEN TUMBLR DAVID TENNANT

There are time lords and they are the doctor and everyone was very cross when I asked that because apparently y'all periodically forget you follow me because im dumb

It's like gay or something at some point

Andrew Garfield is a dentist who gets flirted with like you too babygirl or whatever the 10th doctor says

Oh yeah the doctors are the doctor but there are 14 of them and they all go poof and then boom new actor except for 14 where david tennant re-emerges YEAH TUMBLR HEAR THAT I SAID DAVID TENNANT

oh and THEN the fifteenth doctor arrives but he fucking girlbosses a bigeneration and so escapes trauma or something and you all get to keep david tennant YEAH I SAID HIS NAME IF THIS HELLSITE HAD AN ALGORITHM THIS POST WOULD BE TRENDING SO QUICK ISTG

Oh the TARDIS is blue and not fucking yellow sometimes my brain gaslights me and also it can be anything it is a tree but it is a police box because it wants to be due to a glitch that the doctor hasnt fixed coz hes too busy hanging out with donna or being gay or being trans which as I know from experience are both full-time occupations

Theres like an intro or something it goes DOOWEEDOOOO and when i mentioned it people started singing it in the reblogs so like nostaglia hit ig

DAAAAAAAAAAVID TENNANT YOU HERE ME TUMBLR COME AND GET YOUR DAVID TENNANT HE FOUND HIS WIFE HERE YES HE DID HIS FATHER-IN-LAW WAS A DOCTOR YES HE WAS HIS DAUGHTER WAS THE DOCTOR'S DAUGHTER BUT THEN DAVID'S WIFE SO IDK GO SLAY GEORGIA

10th doctor is kinda bitchboy and we love him for that apparently

12th doctor is girlbossing prideful or maybe it was 11th or 9th WHO'S THE ONE WHO CALLS THE POTATO A POTATO

There are rhinos and they're police they're called Zookas and they transform people into something for their sins

I think it was the rhinos but someone looks like gollum had sex with a dead horse and got impregnated

There's a potato dude (gn)

There's a Meep and Meep's pronouns are Meep which is fab

There's a dude named Harry in the original doctor who

Shitty effects are beloved here

Someone installed a ramp on the tardis

there is someone named rose and the 9th doctor did something with a timeline and lost her to another 9th doctor and everyone's sad about it coz he knew he couldnt give her the life or something

Rose is kissy smoochie with doctor

Donna noble is played by catherine tate who knows less about the show than i do (which isnt saying much clearly im an expert)

The doctor is not actually a doctor it's something about yelling DOCTOR and they say DOCTOR WHO and it's like FUCK YEAH BABA GRIL NAMEDROP

Is this show title a knock knock joke like Knock knock. Who's there? Doctor. Doctor who? Yes now let me in.

one last time for you sluts DAVID TENNNANTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

you're welcome.

75 notes · View notes

your-local-hoemie · 11 months

Text

ꕥ Genshin Impact ꕥ boyfriend headcanons, Inazuma edition~ part one.

This is a two part one cuz there’s a lot of characters and my brain only lets me write so many in one go >_<

I’m currently in the process of preparing to move in the next few months and hopefully starting a mortician apprenticeship so I’m exciteeddddd

Summary: Just head-canons about the Inazuma hotties :p

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, maybe a tiny bit suggestive, Gn!Reader, established relationship, not proof-read.

Characters: Heizou, Kazuha, Thoma.

Heizou~

Oh no. Suddenly I’m a criminal.

I sure hope no hot, flirty, pretty detectives come looking for me >:)

We all know how, um, Suggestive this man is.

He’s absolutely not subtle about his feelings towards you.

Always giving you little compliments followed by a wink.

He somehow manages to know exactly how to turn you into a giggling puddle within the first 20 minutes of hanging out.

Takes you on surprisingly? Very romantic dates!

His favourite is to bring you on a picnic under the Sakura’s or a quiet night with you both wrapped up in a blanket reading crime novels or cases he wants to share with you!

He doesn’t get jealous often.

Man has a EGO.

But on the rare occasion that he does, you can bet your ass that he’s going to be snarky as all fuck.

Not to you of course.

No no-

He’ll probably be overly clingy and flirty with you!

More than usual-

But the offending person will quickly get the idea that they’re on the receiving side of his wrath.

Might outright call them stupid hfkvjfod.

He’s into fishnets.

I’m sorry (I’m not) but he wears them too much for me to not believe this man would break the second he see’s you wearing them~

Also handcuffs ;)

I don’t think he’s the type to be overly protective of you.

Don’t get him wrong, he does worry!

He just know you’re capable of handling yourself in fights!

If you come back hurt, it’ll depend on the severity of how much he’ll worry.

If it’s just a few scrapes a bruises, he’ll likely patch you up while scolding you to be more careful!

“Man alive Y/N? *sigh* my occupation is ‘detective’ you know. Not doctor. Let’s try and keep it that way, hmm?”

But if it’s more serious then prepared to be babied hdhsjd

You won’t be allowed to do anything until he’s satisfied that you’ve recovered!

He’ll bring you the best food he can get his hands on in Inazuma along with cute plushies and will even work from your teapot instead of the office which makes him surprisingly more efficient-

If you ever get insecure about yourself then buckle up-

He’s prepared to give you his entire analysis on how he thinks you’re better than Celestia herself.

My guy has facts, evidence and probably a bulletin board to prove that to you!

He might be a little scared to say the special three words (aka “I love you”) at first but it doesn’t stay that way for long!

All it took was him seeing you, face first in a case file looking all disgruntled and frustrated with your nose scrunched up and his mouth spoke faster than what his brain could think.

He won’t say it all the time but he tells you at least once a day <333

He can’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to him, no matter how stubborn he is!

Kazuha~

I think I’ve made it obvious in my previous posts how pretty I think this boy is.

Like??????? Hello?????

God he would cHERISH YOU!!!

Definitely a little awkward at first but I head-canon that he’s actually really flirty!

He’s just super good at keeping it subtle enough that no one else notices shdufufuejjrifkAAAAAA

When he first started getting feelings for you Beidou referred to him as a literal love sick puppy.

He’s often sit on the end of the Crux (idk what ship parts are called) and write poems and haikus while looking up at the stars and blushing violently while thinking about you.

He definitely didn’t escape the crew’s teasing whenever he’d follow you around and seemed more giggly than usual!

Beidou was actually the one who got kinda tired of watching him run in circles so she set ya’ll up on a date without telling either of you-

Definitely said some cute poem when confessing!

“Like captured water, You hold me in your cupped hands. I flow on your palm.”

Haikus are confusing man wtf.

He definitely isn’t one for being kept in one place but it’s impossible not to notice how much longer he seems to stay around you!

And when feels the time is right for travelling again, he’ll often ask you to accompany him!

He’ll always bring you back a souvenir if you’re too busy to go with him!

Always tells you how it reminds him of you too!

Like he’ll bring back a red/pink sea shell and explain how the colour reminds him of when you blush or laugh so much your cheeks turn red.

He is protective of you but not overly.

He’ll voice his concerns about any dangerous commissions or quests you take on but if you’re insistent then instead of stopping you, he’ll accompany you!

He’s such a sweet, quiet boy so it comes to a big surprise the first time he protects you.

Actually raises his voice and shouts for you to get to safety (like when he shouted for that one dude to stop hiding)

Obviously he apologises after and explains he just wanted you to move so you didn’t get hurt :(

Completely random but I head-canon that he’s close to Yoimiya and every year for your birthday, he’ll bring you to Inazuma and take you to a really beautiful spot then set off fireworks that he planned with her!

And if you don’t like fireworks then he’ll still take you to a beautiful spot with a picnic and just watch the sunset with you~

Thoma~

Pretty boy, good boy.

House wife, even.

He doesn’t believe he deserves you :(

Reassure this boyo.

He fell head over heels from the very first moment!

Every time you talked he’d get so flustered and stutter on every other word hdjjddjd!

Ayaka obviously knew what was going on and you did as well!

The both of you made out a plan on how you would confess to him and when you did-

Oh boy-

He almost started crying ududieifjck

Hugged you so tight for like a solid 3 minutes!

Ever since then, he always picks a flower from the tea house where you both made it official and brings it home to you!!

He’s a good cook so you can bet your lucky ass that you’ll have breakfast in bed on his days off!!

He’d also help fix your clothes if they get ripped during fights!

Ayato would definitely find the situation amusing so don’t be surprised when thoma suddenly gets the day off~

He does get very easily flustered so pda would probably be kept to the minimum unless you want the poor boy melting into a blushing puddle.

He’s not overly protective of you but he does worry himself into a stupor!

Like he won’t stop you going out on commissions but the second he see’s a scratch or a bruise, it’s out with the first aid and a stern lesson on how to patch yourself up!

He’s even made a personal travel first aid bag for you!!

At night when you’re laying in bed, there’s absolutely nothing he loves more than telling you about his day or listen to your stories while you play with his hair!

You’ve both become somewhat unintentionally popular!

Not to mention the people who are just a tiiiiny bit jealous that you’re the lucky one and not them.

Which you totally don’t relish in, just a little~

He can’t help it!!

He just loves talking about you and how happy you make him! Obviously people are gonna talk about how cute y’all are :p

He’s banned you from playing the pot game.

No one really knows how but you managed to give everyone who played it a stomach ache for a solid week.

Boy also insisted on teaching you how to play chess!!

He totally hasn’t let you win a handful of times just because he couldn’t bare to see how sad you looked when you lost

he also just wanted the table to stay in one piece-

This man refuses to go to work or to bed without giving you a good morning or goodnight kiss!

He adores how cute you are when he reminds you that he loves you even if it’s in a simple gesture!!

Ya’ll, I haven’t slept for three days and the hat man is starting to morph into cyno.

Yes I’m totally fine :3

193 notes · View notes

random-doctor-on-the-internet · 2 months

Text

Ok. So, well, @weirdly-specific-but-ok , I promised you a mafia story for helping my friend. You helped my friend, you'll get a story.

Sorry, I didn't read it again before posting so it's entirely my fault if there are English mistakes. Fuck la grammaire.

I have no idea about what to write so don't expect high quality. Not that you're used to a higher level. Anyways, buckle your seatbelt, open a red bull can (you'll need it), and get ready for

Pulls sunglasses out of nowhere because that is the only thing I can do at this point.

The Bagel Story

(please notice the effort put into the title. I'm too tired to put any effort elsewhere so you can stop here)

Ok, so it all begins in Ukraine (before the war). At the time, I'm kind of free (compared to later. Long story) and spend most of my days exploring the town where I live. It's a nice town. Lots of abandoned buildings. Tom Sawyer-ish vibes, if Tom Sawyer lived in a tough neighborhood from Detroit.

So, this time, I decided to take pictures of one hundred broken windows in a day (little me had weird occupations), and start wandering until it was, what, 4 pm? At some point, I bought bagels. They aren't useful on this story, they're just here for the title.

So I'm kinda lost in an empty street, and the smartest thing I think about is going into the abandoned buildings, hoping to find someone who will help me.

I don't, and spend like an hour looking for someone (who's not drunk/ high/ having more important business than helping a six year old). Noone. I try anyway. At some point, I hear people in a building. Desperate, I enter the building by the window and walk through a corridor, to arrive in a room with actual people. Well, I didn't see, since they were all wearing masks.

And this when shit gets complicated.

To give you a picture of the situation, I've just walked in a room full of masked people who were singing a song in a language I barely know (idk what it was, I assumed it was Ukrainian but don't remember enough to analyze it with my old brain). These people look at me like I was Jesus reincarnated. I look at them like they were all multiverse versions of Jesus wearing wedding dresses.

At this point, there are too many Jesuses in the story and God abandons us.

They point at me and start screaming in Ukrainian (this time, I'm sure it's Ukrainian. But I didn't speak any of it when the story happened so it just sounds like alien metal music for me). I..uh…I smile, yell “no hablo Espanol” with a Hungarian accent and run away. I don't know why.

I mean, I don't know why I yelled in Spanish. Running away was a perfectly calculated decision.

So I'm running. I don't even look to see if they kept singing in their lair, undisturbed, or if there are actually nine masked people in white robes running after me in the streets. I ran to save my life. It's night. I'm still running. I'm tired. I stop. And then, I hear a growl.

I look behind me. Nothing. I look left, then right, nothing. I start walking again, and bam! Sinistros jumpscare.

(For those who are wondering what happened, a giant dog randomly appears in front of me.)

I mobilize all my mental powers and start running. Again. The dog follows me. Did I tell you that I was tired?

Anyways, I run for my guts for the second time in an hour, wahoo. At some point, I throw the bagels at EvilPadfoot 2.0. That doesn't have any effect. I run. I look behind me to see if I have a chance of survival. And pathetically fall in the sewers (Google translate, not sure about the word. Stinky tubes.). At some point, the monster abandons and I miserably find my way home.

That was the last time I got to walk alone outside my house.

Here you go. Is that worth anything? I don't know. But I'm too tired to write another one. Thanks for at least reading it.

7 notes · View notes

jyndor · 1 year

Note

“So did cassian find bix before he went on hugging another woman and die? BECAUSE DUDE THAT GIRL TORTURED OUTTA HER MIND (because of u) AND STILL TRUSTS YOU” - a very idiot comment someone made under a post of Jyn and Cassian pictures on Twitter. ISTG some people who joined the fandom after Andor don’t have a single working braincell like wtf dude

lol for as smart a show as andor is, I really wonder about some of its viewers 🤣🤣

first off, again I have to remind folks that rogue one was written first and by different people, so if you have a problem with something that happened in the show because it doesn't necessarily track with the film... just because YOU saw the film for the first time after the show doesn't mean the film is wrong for not having perfect continuity with the show.

we can use our brains and recognize that tony gilroy didn't like idk time travel to make cassian fall in love with the main character of the film instead of, what, apologizing to the character he created years after the film came out. it's one thing to criticize the writers of the show for putting bix through a more graphic trauma than almost any singular character in the show (save for cassian but I mean he's the titular character and we knew he was gonna go through shit) and doing it for the sake of a male character's story arc - a criticism of the writers, an out-of-universe analysis. it's another entirely to make an in-universe criticism of cassian for... well let's go through the chain of events:

cassian listens to his mother when she said to leave her behind because he is wanted for killing the mall cops (they don't know that the empire is looking for him bc he is a link to luthen)

he gets profiled and brutalized by the cops on his little vacation, thrown into a labor camp and is unable to go back for her like he said he would because again, he's in a CONCENTRATION CAMP.

maarva is unknowingly inspired by cassian's team on aldhani which is partly why she doesn't want to leave ferrix (it's her home, I can't fault her for that even though she is Not my fave) and decides to rebel by... idk not taking care of herself (actually some interesting commentary on how activists burn themselves out and don't take care of themselves but that's for another post).

because cassian respects maarva's wishes for him, he is not around to help take care of her - which we know other community members like bix have done before anyway

bix and brasso along with the daughters of ferrix etc are trying to get maarva to take care of herself, but maarva is getting ill because she's older and over-exerting herself for a non-existent rebellion - which hey again cool no problem, she's trying to fight the empire even though everyone else is complacent.

bix sees that maarva really needs help, knows that cassian is gone because in part SHE told him to fuck off, wants help from luthen so she can find cassian and uses the secret comms in the paaks' shop to reach luthen.

the imperials arrest salman, torture him and then arrest bix and torture her. salman is executed.

but this is missing a critical first point: the imperial occupation of ferrix. everything else is a response to the empire and to imperialism. everything: cassian kills the mall cops (tools of the empire) in episode one because they are xenophobic and profile him; they are an immediate threat to his life. that brings mr cereal over, who fucks up the "investigation" that no one wanted so badly it ends in a full blown imperial occupation. but the empire is already present in their use of the corporate mall cops to marginalize working class communities like ferrix.

the first violence is the occupation and the imperial machine (and im not even talking about the republic and the cis's colonialism but we can include them too because its all part of the problem). everything else is a reaction to an oppressor. kassa and the kenari kiddos go after the separatist ship and try to attack the people on board because they are the likely reason for the exploitation of their planet and the probable genocide of their people. cassian kills the cops because they threaten him due to their fragile egos and xenophobia. he has to leave ferrix and his mother because as maarva says, he can't stay and she can't leave (I guess although lol I mean she could). and so on.

actions don't just have consequences. actions have reactions. everything cassian does is a reaction to oppression- he tells jyn as much in rogue one ("everything I did, I did for the rebellion"). and for all of my critiques of the show, andor sticks to its thesis that rebellion can look like many things and that cassian does nothing but resist oppression his whole life.

to blame cassian for the empire torturing bix is such a shockingly bad read of the show because the show's very foundation is that the original act of violence is imperialism and fascism, and its victims are not to blame for their reactions to it, no matter how pragmatic or radical or violent.

cassian didn't get bix tortured. the empire tortured bix because it was trying to play divide and conquer with marginalized people, and it didn't work.

lol now I have to go to work but just a side note: I wouldn't trust anyone who has that kind of take on a fictional show about imperialism and fascism to stand with real world marginalized groups when they fight real world oppression.

#star wars andor #andor series #andor #cassian andor #bix caleen #asks #answered #anonymous #meta #fascism #imperialism #torture tw #police brutality #xenophobia #colonialism #really gotta go now but hopefully i tagged everything lmfao

22 notes · View notes

flowering-thought · 3 months

Note

I have a pretty new Yandere blog, how do you get people to interact with and request and enjoy your oc’s?

Hmm I don't think I'm the best person to ask tbh! With me I just find that trying to keep details about OCs consistent and coming up with ideas that personally interest me is better than anything.

If you only write OCs for everyone else you'll burn out and feel detached from them. When I look at my OC's I think "oh my lil skrunkly guy who I adore and love but also like to make suffer a lil and have details about their backstory hidden in the crevices of my brain."

As for interactions I feel like when tumblr finally added the voting function it made a nice ability to interact with the people who follow your stuff nicely and give options for ideas you may or may not have. And making sure people know that they can request stuff like putting a little section in your blog description or maybe in a pinned post saying what's okay to request or what's not or if your requests are open or not?

But also tags!! Making all sorts of relevant tags and tagging your work is also super good to attract the right people to your posts!! It can be very repetitive but sharing your work with people with tags is super helpful. It also helps if you need to look for something specific on your blog too! Like if you wrote a certain OC that had a certain like gender or maybe they have a certain occupation you listed down in the tags to help if you need to look for it later. Or making your own personal tags to sort through them helps too-

I also think organizing a post with your OCs with the posts you've made about them helps people too! Cause when they read one post about your OC they'll think "Oh, I quite like this character does this person have a masterlist or post where other things about their OC is?" And go to check your profile. It does get kinda hard to keep up with though cause it can be easy to forget!

OC making is fun though! Sometimes discussing ideas with friends or maybe trying to make them relatable or just having some extra details is good I think? Idk it's how I think about it so I can't really be sure if all my advice is really that good??

I'm really lucky to have people interact with my work even though I don't post as often as I like so I'm very grateful about it. Also super grateful that people like my OCs when they do!

Also sometimes posting your own ideas you have about OCs is cool too!! Like if you have a certain detail about them that might not be known or making a scenario about them and just posting it might make others want to see more about them and request!

Sorry if this isn't too helpful or if I rambled a bit too long, but I hope maybe a little of this helped? Have a good day or night!!! And good luck with the blog! Writing OCs is pretty fun, I hope I come across one of yours soon!

#.hana_talks_txt_♡#really unsure if this is helpful but i saw it in my asks just today and didnt wanna leave it alone #writing is fun and tricky #but sharing it with others is super nerve-wracking

5 notes · View notes

pilferingapples · 5 months

Text

tagged by @sparklygraves !

Last song I listened to: IDK the exact song? I've been listening to mixes of Medieval carols , and I do not know them well enough to say for sure which one just played? I'm on this mix right now , though.

Favourite colour: it's green

Last movie/TV show I watched: Utena!

Sweet/spicy/savory? ooof. HARD choice. uh. Savory I guess??

Relationship status: Extremely Married

Last thing I googled: images of the Gavle goat being destroyed XD It's just the Holiday Spirit, you know!!

Current obsession: whoof. I can tell there's a ton of things waiting to take up occupation in my brain and soul when I've got some energy, but right now I do not have the energy for more than Goodwill Towards Art Generally. trying to finish my holiday gift art, that's the current focus!

#' you listen to holiday music ALL MONTH??'#hurdy gurdy is immortal and eternal #and I control the Aux #natter

6 notes · View notes

nymphaforesta · 2 years

Note

im just here to salute you for everything you're saying about how different occupations bring different kinds of exhaustion bc srsly.. nothing irks me more than poll who for whatever reason believe they have a monopoly over feeling exhausted or overworked bc they arbitrarily decide that what they do is more demanding or worthy of feeling tired at the end of the day..

like we're all on the same friggin team and it would be humorous to me if it werent for how nasty & judgmental some ppl suddenly become bc what they are really saying is 'your feelings are invalid and dont matter therefore you dont matter and i can treat you as if you are beneath me as such'. truly disheartening behavior..

everyone is doing their best and have so much going on that none of us can imagine adds to that level of exhaustion :( how difficult would it have been, really, for the driver to have taken a moment and realized that they can recognize that feeling and empathize?

idk maybe its just how my brain works.. sorry for this novel of an ask but in light of the economy recovering from covid, combined with the emotional recovery we are ALL facing, we should be more understanding of others now more than ever...

i see exactly what you are saying and completely respect how exhausting it must be for you, love.

keep your head up and you are only bound to keep going up from here, lovely♡

(i hope im not out of line with this message but apologize if i am - you dont have to post this if you dont want to i just wanted to empathize w what you are saying)

i don't even need to add anything else, you said everything perfectly so thank you for understanding and being so close to me<3 I appreciate it very much xx I'm hugging you tight!!

18 notes · View notes

littlemisswolfie · 2 years

Note

Love your Mustang Family AU, so much!!! I was wondering . . . if like maybe we could like get a fic where like Riza gets injured of something that leads to Ed and Al finding out about her back scar, idk. Also a fic where they somehow discover that Roy and Riza have a longer history than they thought, with him apprenticing for her father and all. They can be the same fic if need be. Forever grateful <3

Not me finally getting to this like. A million years later. Sorry lmao

x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x

A few months into their occupation of their Central house, Riza leaves the shower in a towel without thinking. She knows Roy is out with Havoc and Breda for a rare guy's night out (which she almost had to force him into agreeing to) and the boys are usually in the house's library or the one at Central Command until they come home in the wee hours of the morning to sleep, so she doesn't even consider the fact that one of the boys in her life could see her like this.

However, she's apparently forgotten that even prodigious alchemists have to eat at some point, and just as she's about to reach her room, she hears something hit the floor behind her. "R-Riza," says Edward's voice, and she turns around to see her two sons standing in the hallway, staring at her. Edward's eyes are round with horror, and Alphonse's armored body is being held much stiffer than usual. "Your back--"

Riza, too late, remembers that neither of the boys know about her tattoo, or her scar. She spins around, clutching her towel a little tighter to her chest to keep it from falling and making the whole situation even worse. "Boys, it's okay," she says.

"That's a burn scar," Alphonse says in a small voice that belies his true age. "Did Roy--"

She can tell where this is going, and she sighs. "Can I get dressed before we have this conversation?"

They go back down to the kitchen when she's in her pajamas, and she makes tea for herself and Edward. "How much do you know about flame alchemy?" she asks them.

Edward's the one who answers. "Only what we've seen Roy do, and the circle on his gloves."

"He learned alchemy from my father, Berthold Hawkeye," Riza says, staring into her tea cup. "My father was a genius, but he was also paranoid, and he refused to pass along the knowledge of flame alchemy to Roy. Instead of keeping traditional notes, my father tattooed an array with all of his research on my back, and after he passed away from an illness, I let Roy learn the secrets of flame alchemy so he could become a State Alchemist, and then I followed him into the military."

She takes a deep breath. She's never had to tell this story before; the only other person who needed to know about it also lived through it. "Then, after the civil war, we were both horrified at what Roy was ordered to do, and I knew that we couldn't let anyone else know flame alchemy. If it ever fell into the wrong hands..." She trails off and shakes her head. "So I had Roy burn the knowledge off of my back. He would never have done it if I didn't ask."

"That's why the array on his glove is so simple," Edward mutters in realization. "That's why he does all the equations in his head. If it were any more obvious, anyone with half a brain would be able to figure it out."

Alphonse looks like he wants to reach out and touch her, but he doesn't. "Did it hurt?"

"Yes." There's no reason to lie to these boys. They're too smart for things to be toned down for them. "I don't think I'll ever feel pain like it again." Then, because she knows neither boy will leave before she gives them permission, she feigns a yawn. "Thank you for listening. I'm going to head to bed now."

She barely gets a response out of them as she climbs the stairs, and even when she settles into bed, she doesn't sleep until she hears them return to their room and Roy coming in the front door.

#it's not very good #sorry #fullmetal alchemist #fma #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #mustang family au #riza hawkeye #edward elric #alphonse elric #roy mustang #royai

16 notes · View notes

firjii · 1 year

Text

I think some people forget or overlook that discrimination against neurodivergency isn't a binary of acceptance or hostility.

There are people who understand the sensory challenges but not the social ones. I once met an actual certified/licensed occupational therapist who was so focused on drilling through activities with profoundly autistic kids that she was borderline inhumane about it, insisting "they can do everything I tell them to, they're just choosing to be willful and lazy."

There are people who bend over backwards to accommodate social difficulties but have zero sympathy for the sensory side and are oblivious that the two are commonly interrelated in some way.

There are people who are understanding of all aspects except executive dysfunction, which tends to eventually lead to bullying or abuse on their part (even and especially when they realize there's a pattern to it, not just the occasional off day).

There are people who acknowledge and accommodate all areas but at the cost of treating you like a toddler or someone with severe brain damage. These are frequently also the type who don't pressure you to try romantic relationships but are so controlling that they question your judgment down to the level of your clothing color preferences.

And then there are also those who acknowledge all aspects except sleep schedule discrepancies, which they're all too eager to guarantee would be eliminated by frequent vigorous exercise (idk about you, but this tends to activate my brain for longer in the day, not shorter) or forcing yourself to wake up earlier so you'll eventually go to bed earlier, insisting that insomnia is almost always a lifestyle choice rather than a health condition with sometimes extremely complex causes.

This is all still discrimination in some sense and potentially still quite destructive.

I'm not saying that some neurotypicals don't try to do better. I'm not saying you should criticize the things they're doing right. I'm not saying it's OK to savagely attack someone over a genuine one-off mistake. I'm mainly talking here about people who persistently cling to contradictions or counterproductive behaviors, even after being politely and plainly educated about it. I've met folks who legitimately hadn't encountered someone like me before but did respect my needs once I explained them. I have little to no quarrel with innocent misunderstandings - as long as that's what they really are.

But I just think it's staggering how myopic, contradictory, and unwieldy "normals" can be sometimes when some of them accuse us of those very things.

#neurodivergent #actuallyautistic

3 notes · View notes

cherumie · 2 years

Note

i have some hcs about Grelle's pre-reaper life, which i have formed over years upon years of thinking about her 24/7. Bear with me, I'm sick so my brain can't think of the right words to use, and this is very unstructured and full of gaps (which id be happy to fill) because it's my first time talking about this to anyone and idk what I should and shouldn't mention. tw for period-typical queerphobia, mentions of abuse and suicide (because, you know, shinigami):

She was the eldest child. To me, the eldest of three, but the number isn't that important. Her family was well-off but not influential. I am undecided on this, but i lean towards them being comfortable because of her dad's occupation (trade???? medicine????), rather than a noble title.

I just know she was a clever little smartass as a kid! She wouldn't focus on any subject that bored her, but to me she was always very witty, athletic, and a fan of the arts, although her temper and capricious nature were present ever since she was little. She probably had some dark traits and crueler instincts even as a kid, but 1) it was nowhere near as bad as it is in canon, and 2) it was enabled by an overbearing mother and a dad who uhhh,,, will be explained as we go.

She adored her mother, who was a sweet, mild-mannered woman. They were inseperable throughout her childhood, and her mother encouraged her to be herself and was accepting of her feminine/flamboyant mannerisms and habits (something her dad did not like at all). I want to think that Grelle's mom love her throughout her life, even when it hurt, but her passive nature didn't let her interfere and help her child.

And here comes my favourite topic; Grelle's dad! Imo, he sucked, in a period-typical bigot way. I think of him as a hot-headed but otherwise intelligent man (as intelligent as someone like him can be), who had the biggest inferiority complex because of his humble origins (immigrant/working class parents and stuff). This made him obsessed with securing his legacy through an heir, so he really pushed Grelle to act the way he expected an heir should act. After a certain age, they would fight over Grelle's behaviour and identity, and he would often resort to violence to make sure she wouldn't "act up" in public or do anything that would result in him losing face (because i do have a mean streak, i like to think that she's the spitting image of him; same hair and eyes, similar features and build, similar personality and temperament. Even though she's stuck at a fairly young age and she definitely inherited the grace and some delicate details from her mom, the resemblance is uncanny. You know, because im a sucker for the "resembling someone you despise" trope, it makes everything worse when you think about it).

So it basically started to get bad after Grelle turned like, 10? 11? The time kids are sent to boarding school, and when puberty first hits. I think her dad turned a blind eye to her clearly being trans and having different ambitions than what he wanted because he thought it was just his Kid being a Kid and that she would outgrow it. After he realised that wasn't going to happen, he'll broke loose. Now I think that something happened in her mid teens, probably a breakdown, an especially big fight, an event of sorts, that made her snap under the pressure and finally start playing by her father's rules. Imo I see her adopting a persona that has qualities from both butler Grelle and OVA Grelle (which I'd love to expand on but it's an entire post in itself). She maintained the qualities her father thought valuable, but never questioned him or went against his wishes in any way.

This went on for around a decade, until she became a reaper (in canon she's in her late twenties to early thirties when that happens). I would blame that on a steady mental decline; she turned inwards, escaped through fiction, and some of the tendencies that were already there (i don't want to give them a term; im not a psychiatrist, and even though i have my theories about Grelle's mental landscape, again, whole other post) met some growing delusions and a ton of repression and resentment, and it obviously didn't mix well. Even though she could mostly keep it to herself in the beginning, it became more and more obvious that she was slipping away as she entered her mid-twenties.

I think she became a reaper because of an impulsive thought or an event that she magnified in her head to a catastrophic degree, or again as a result of a breakdown. We know from canon that she often acts before she thinks, and that she can have extreme reactions to things according to her mood. I know people used to think about how she went through with it a lot, but I honestly have no idea. I want to say that she killed her dad before she did it, but it might be too gratifying and self-indulgent so I am not decided on that yet.

Aaand that's p much it?? Like that's a very general version of it because I've already forced you to read all that. Thank you sm for your time, I would love to read more hcs about our girl, and to also expand on specific areas of mine if i get the chance. I love our oc Grelle Sutcliff 🥰

(ill star signing these as anon mo if that's okay!)

I was planning on picking apart this ask & giving my own take on ur headcanons but I just decided that that's too hard so I'm just gonna post it like this lol

But anyways YES I LOVE IT. It's obvious that you think about this a lot & I thank you for sharing ur brain with me 😌 It's so interesting how pretty much every fan has a different version of Grelle and her backstory in our heads. I would love to hear other people's personal takes on her!

( and yeah ofc that's okay! nice to meet you :) )

#sorry i couldn't give a more in depth response #im very very very burnt out right now bc of irl stuff (´-﹏-`；)#Kuroshitsuji #black butler #ask #anon #grell sutcliff #grelle sutcliff

14 notes · View notes

deepspacedukat · 2 years

Note

I do really want to know your reasoning on the Cardassians because sometimes I just go ✨PRETTY✨ and have absolutely no other thoughts. It’s a little embarrassing.

But also, if you were stuck somewhere for like a year who would you pick to live with from Trek and why? I’m picking Jadzia, Kira, Dr. Bashir, and Rom. Also Garak because then I could learn how to sew better.

-Horta-in-Charge

Look, honestly, sometimes the ✨pretty✨ reaction is all I have too lol. Okay, so for the placement reasoning:

Fuck: Garak - The man would absolutely know what he was doing, but I feel like because of his Obsidian Order past he wouldn’t necessarily feel comfortable with something as traceable as a marriage record revealing that he had a weakness (aka his s/o). The sex though...the sex. Not giving that up! Dukat - I mean, the man would know his way around, if you know what I mean. The guy has multiple children so obviously he knows what he’s doing. Might not be smart to marry a villain, but to be his good little slut...? *nods head sagely* Madred - Look, he’s evil. He tortured Picard. But...also...I would let him rail me till I couldn’t stand. No logic on this one. Just ✨dirty thoughts.✨

Marry: Macet - He doesn’t seem as bad as his cousin, and he’s still got the sexy voice, so um...Yeah. Not really any logic with this one either. Just would absolutely take pretty lizard’s last name. Daro - I mean, this one to me is obvious. He seems like he’d be sweet and protective and just perfect husband material, so...yep. We don’t even have an official first name for him, but I’d take his last name. Damar - Ok, so...no logic for this one either...He’s a big, pretty, square lizard. And I’d go there. Tekeny Ghemor - He’s a widower and he’s a very sweet man. 10/10 would call him daddy in bed and take his last name. He also feels like the type of person who would be v protective of the person he loved and since he’s obviously had a kid, he knows what he’s doing in bed...

Kiss: Telle - Tbh, he wasn’t my favorite Cardassian, but he was still cute and rather square. 100% would give this lizard a smooch. Boheeka - Look. LOOK. This man deserved better than the Order making him disappear for Quark’s requisition code. Add that to his slutty little comment about a Dabo girl almost bankrupting him, and I’d definitely kiss him. Also, he’s pretty, so... Ari - This good boy just wanted to protect Iliana!Kira and for Cardassia to have a better future. HE DESERVED BETTER. 10000/10 would smooch. Entek - Bad Lizard™ but would I let him pin me up against a wall and kiss me like a back alley whore? Yes. No logic. Only ✨pretty✨

Hug: Mavek - He was on Terok Nor during the Dominion’s occupation of said station, and he was sweet enough to bring Major Kira her coffee every morning. Look. Any guy who remembers AWAKE JUICE for somebody EVERY DAY has EARNED a hug. At minimum.

Kill: Evek - Look. I have strong feelings about Cardassians. For some reason, he evokes a very visceral reaction. Also I’m convinced he’s one of the ones who suggested the Central Command try to blame Dukat for the weapon smuggling in “The Maquis” Parts 1&2. R.I.P. Danar - Idk why I have this reaction with him?? So many of Vaughn Armstrong’s characters are calming or just give me a different reaction, but with Danar, I...I don’t know. Confusion lizard. R.I.P.

As for your second question, oooooh, I love that idea! I’ll do 5 people since you chose 5.

If it can be anyone from any Trek series, I’d say... Shran, Julian Bashir, Spock, Malcolm Reed, and Dukat (for chaos and laughs). Would we survive? Probably not. Would it be fun? Yes (for me; I guarantee nobody else’s enjoyment but my own).

If it can only be DS9 characters...Bashir, O’Brien, Martok, Garak, and Dukat (again, for chaos and laughs).

Are both those sets reverse harem situations in my brain? ...Perhaps...

#again if there's any I missed or that anyone thinks of later lmk #deepspacedukat asks #deepspacedukat wine talks #horta in charge

6 notes · View notes

variantia · 2 years

Text

BELLUM. ALSO GUYS YOU KNOW WHAT’S REALLY CUTE

you know how I have my Undertale musical locket ? and sometimes at work I ask kids who are shopping with their parents “hey you wanna see something cool” and blow their tiny minds when I wind it up to play

well, I have this one regular who sometimes comes in with one or both of her kids, and I believe her son is some kind of special needs (maybe autistic ? I can’t remember bc my brain dumb but)

anyway after the first time I played it for him, every time he comes in he says “I wanna hear!” while pointing at the necklace so I always play it

and last time he said he wanted to wind it up so I’m like ok sure !! anything for my favorite lil man !

honestly this thing is my prized possession but I’ve also let babies touch it and let an older girl wind it up and so I mean I generally trust kiddos to be careful with it (I MEAN I wouldn’t let anyone younger than maybe four or five wind it up just because I’ve worked with preschoolers and they don’t always know how to be careful xD)

but like anyway it’s just

it just makes me so happy that it makes him happy to hear it and wind it up it’s so cute he always makes my day and idk I felt like sharing, he is just my sweet lil buddy and I love it when his mom brings him in

it’s part of the reason I wanna eventually go into occupational therapy for special needs kids, I just ! love interacting with them so much !!

#is that a fucking gremlin ?? ( OOC. )#(( also when I volunteered at the local daycare in high school there was this one kid in like the 3-5 year old's room #and shortly before I left the main caregiver told me he was autistic #and that he rarely ever let people touch or hold him like he'd been letting me hold him and carry him around the room #and I think about that a lot and it just makes me feel so happy like #anyways this particular kid didn't come in today I didn't see him today but I think about him #he's such a cutie and big sweetheart his smile makes my day ;-; ))

2 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

moaazyh

buy weed shrooms acid coke&more

deeniyaat

Rimsha

handle111

Leg Fashions

anzstrek

anzs

changedlives

CHANGED LIVES OF HARVEST CHURCH