#but i am sorry if you did not want this in your brain

[yuri-is-online]

Sorry for making you explain all the yutus but can you do Jades? Bros gotta be so overprotective 😬

Jokes on you I am always down to talk about Jade Leech (my beloved)

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. I think I typed up way more for this than anyone else up to this point, I'd apologize but it has been a second since I brain rotted about Jade, so excuse me for feeding myself (づ_ど)

Put yourself in Jade's shoes for a second.  He is a merfolk from the coral sea, only able to appear human through the use of a potion but still retaining his inhuman features.  He tries hard to appear human, he goes to a boot camp where so many things have to be explained that he is able to mimic but doesn't fully understand.  There's no reason for you to like him, he knows that better than anyone; he doesn't fully understand why he's attracted to you himself but he is.  And he longed after you for so long, he was drowning in his desire that had such a little chance of being reciprocated but by some miracle it was.  You stay in Twisted Wonderland, you let him take you under the sea and agree to be kept there.  You're going to give him a family, he's beyond excited and filled with feelings of love he didn't think he'd ever get to have.

And then it's gone.  There's no evidence as to why, no one to tell him where you went.  Azul starts off confident, excited at the prospect of revenge and encouraging Jade.  They'll find them, between him, Jade, and Floyd they'll find Yuu and someone will have a very bad day.  But there's nothing, they're being lied to and stonewalled at every turn and when finally (it's been 10 months 3 weeks and two days, he could count down to the hours and seconds but who would listen?) Riddle of all people contacts them with a lead, he's dead almost immediately.  Turned into a phantom, all of those friends of yours he was so jealous of too… no one is telling him but he knows.  You're not coming back, he's never going to meet your child, he failed at a moray's one job of protecting his cleaner shrimp.  When he's alone he talks to you both sometimes, nights when you can see the stars are becoming increasingly rare as the sky flares up with ink but he likes to think you found your way up to the sky.  

When he loses Floyd and Azul he sort of loses his will to live.  The only thing that keeps him going is the promise of one day being able to lay them both to rest eventually, but until then he bar tends at NRC and listens to all the little things people talk about when the world is ending. If he was in a better place he'd probably find it funny how lose people's lips are getting, Azul’s business would be doing so well if he were here now…

That's what he's doing one day in September when one of the mage students runs up to him out of breath, Sherish he thinks her name is?  

“The headmage needs you in the hospital wing!”  She sounds scared, out of breath like she's run the whole way and Jade is just curious enough to go.  Something spurs him on to run himself, through the mirror and into the wing and-  

He doesn't even hesitate, his body acts before his brain does launching him towards you and grasping desperately at your hands.  They're cold, you're going cold and he doesn't have the warmth in his body to give you.  Something has mercy on him and let's your eyes open just the bit as you reach just as desperate to be close to him as he is to you and he feels your strength pass into him.  

“Don't apologize.”  He manages to whisper.  

“But I'm sorry.”  You cry.  “I love you so much and I couldn't forget even though they wanted me to.”  

“Who did this.  Who took you just name them and I promise you my pearl-”  he gets to kiss you one more time before your gone.  Jade doesn't move, he thinks Crewel is yelling for his attention but he can't move, he wants to stay here forever he has to protect you, why wasn't he able to protect you?!

“Oh holy fuck that tastes bad.”  There's a dazed voice Jade has never heard before, heavy with sorrow, and though he doesn't quite have it yet, Jade feels purpose begin to return to his heart.

Jade! Yutu is a menace.  I like the idea of him being some form of punk or goth, with piercings and a few tattoos that Yuu doesn't know anything about.  He grew up with a small group of close knit alt friends who would come over to Yuu's house and shoot the shit.  Yuu was really popular with Yutu's friends actually, he had mixed feelings about that. (No, his parent isn't accepting step-father applications, Joshua, keep running your mouth and see what happens)

Has a mixed ranged of emotions about his parent's amnesia. When he was younger not knowing who his dad was made him really sad, he'd listen to other kids talk about doing things with their fathers and he'd dream about doing them with his dad, but the picture was always blurry and felt just... wrong somehow. As he gets older and starts forming his world view he starts to think his dad might have left Yuu for any number of reasons. Did it happen before or after their amnesia, that's what he wants to know.

He has a pretty big problem with authority, residual trauma from the trip across worlds he thinks now… but back in your world he just didn't see the point of respecting someone just because they have more money and power than him.  Almost everyone does, that doesn't make them special!  But he's so sneaky about it, if it weren't for his clothes or his friends Yuu would hardly know what he gets up to in his spare time. It put a bit of strain on their relationship, Yutu sees his lies as something he does to protect his parent, while Yuu sees themselves as well.  A parent.  Who is the one who should be protecting their child not the other way around.  

When he tries to pull similar stunts with Original Timeline! Jade he gets a rude awakening. He tries sneaking out to meet up with some friends only to find his dad sitting with them, polite smile on his face clearly reveling in how awkward he is making this.  Oya, did Yutu think he was being slick?  He's hurt, no really this is the first time Jade has had to fake cry in years, he'd almost forgot how.  Didn't Yutu ever wonder where he got this from?  Because he had to know it wasn't Yuu.

Jade! Yutu also played in a band in middle school and also played bass, it just wasn't a jazz trio or an upright bass.  He would have liked continued to play in bands, but he shares his dad's issues with stage fright which makes it sort of difficult. He has tried his hand at writing his own music from time to time, but he's waaaaay too shy to ever play it for anyone other than the woods.

He really likes horror stories and cryptids, so he wasn't super afraid of the monsters when he first arrived in Twisted Wonderland.  One round with Phantom Riddle changed that nonchalant attitude quick, and while he still is very attached to the stuff he read about back in your world he hates blot monsters and Twisted Wonderland fiends in general.

Speaking of those monsters, Jade hates Yutu fighting them.  Father and son are an absolute nightmare for Crewel to deal with, one is threatening to drown him if Yutu is allowed to fight, the other is screaming curse words and saying it doesn't matter what Crewel does, he's going anyway.  He needs a drink (but not from Jade's bar he's going to get poisoned) 

I don't think Yutu actually told Jade he was planning on going back in time because he was angry and just assumed that he would try and stop him.  He's really proud of himself for the first few weeks he spends in the past thinking he got one over on his old man finally (he didn't, but he did hurt him quite a bit), but the more he interacts with the younger version of his parents the more he starts to regret that decision.

Past Jade is so… fun.  He thinks his dad is fun?!  His weird obsession with mushrooms was never something they talked about beyond a few compliments his dad gave to a mushroom patch he had on his jacket; watching his old man prattle on now he never would have guessed any of this.  Yutu never doubted that Jade loved you, but he didn't really think about what that looked like, or what you might have meant to Jade.  They just didn't talk about it, now that he's forced to think about it Jade was probably trying to focus on having him back and how lucky he was to even have that.  And instead of being honest about how angry he was to have lost you he lied and said he was fine.  With how good his dad was at knowing when he was lying Jade had to know that's how he felt, but respected his boundaries and didn't push. All those comments about being there when he's ready to talk, all the times Jade said he loved him, and those long nights he watched from afar as Jade sat with tea next to your grave, just talking to you as if you were still there are put into context. Yutu isn't able to sleep for a few nights after that.

Jade finds Yutu interesting.  He's a potential source of information about Yuu, a lot of his quirks remind him of himself and he finds the new kids blatant disrespect for authority to be hilarious! And hilariously good blackmail material, now now don't be afraid he really is just here to help...

"Nice try old man you won't pull shit out of me." Yutu sounds smug, but Jade knows when his spell has worked and when it hasn't; how delightful he doesn't seem to remember someone ever being so cocky about it before.

"That's a shame." He makes sure to make his face fall to keep the new kid off his guard as he continues his questioning. "It's just I am curious where did you come from? I thought Yuu's world doesn't have magic."

"I mean it doesn't, probably never would have been able to come back in time if I was still stuck there." Yutu blinks, clarity starting to come into view as Jade pushes through the surprise to ask a final question.

"Oya? And just why did you come back in time, were you worried about Yuu?"

"Of course I'm worried about my parent what sort of stupid question is-" Yutu returns to himself and treats Jade to a look of shock so rare and downright delightful he can't help but smile himself. "Hey just what did you do?"

Old man? What a disrespectful thing to call his father, no wonder his future self never told his son about his unique magic. Jade doesn't have time to doubt his affections for Yuu, once Yutu realizes he's fucked and can't get out of admitting that was the truth he tells Jade who he is and a bit about what the future is like. Jade can tell he's keeping a few details back, but he knows himself well enough to know that everything Yutu is describing would have changed him to a degree that he might not have been in the best mental space to help his son through the loss of Yuu.

Speaking of Yuu, Jade asks Yutu to keep his existence to himself for a bit. He wants to win over your affections without the help of the future looming in your thoughts, he only gets to have this part of his life with you once and he intends to savor it. But the confidence boost he gets from knowing you do end up as his mate does have him acting a bit goofy for a bit. Floyd and Azul are legitimately scared.

They are brought up to speed as Jade insists on introducing Yutu to them "properly" and he is every inch the proud father showing off their new baby to the relatives even though Yutu is practically his height and has a bunch of piercings. Floyd takes a liking to him immediately while Azul is a bit more awkward, not that he doesn't like Yutu he's just a lot different from anyone Azul has ever met before so he's unsure how to sell himself. Luckily he doesn't have to because Yutu appreciates his genuine self just like Floyd, Jade, and Yuu do.

Jade gladly invites Yutu to join the Mountain Lover's Club and is very excited when he says yes. Yutu finds a lot of enjoyment in helping his dad work mushrooms into Azul and Floyd's food by pretending to agree with their complaints. Floyd is so mad he calls Yuu and tells them to come get their kid.

The over protectiveness doesn't end exactly, but Yutu is more willing to understand and Jade is more able to explain himself. They're both extremely protective of Yuu and in sound agreement that nothing like Yutu's future can ever be allowed to come to pass. Jade wanted a family, so to learn that he got that and someone took it away from him? Future him was overwhelmed with grief but current him is overwhelmed with rage. Remember book four? He described what he would do to someone who betrayed him, and it wasn't pretty. His plans for whoever did this to his precious mate and child is going to get so much worse.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu

[forsworned]

That Keegan post you made had me clutching my PEARLS! Your use of words was so masterfully done! I really loved the new vocab I learned while reading your work.

Your depiction of the relationship was also so so nice. Very loving and attentive and just so sweet. I could tell they loved one another and had already established boundaries that they knew they shouldn’t cross. The ending was lovely as well, a great way to tie things up.

Thank you for writing it! I’m excited to see what else your lovely brain comes up with!

-🧢

Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ

Sypnosis: When Keegan finds you petrified, running for your life from creatures unknown to you in the Haunted Appalachia trails after sundown, he takes you in for the night. Things get a bit crazy...

Warning(s): Mentions of Sexual Content, Violence, Petnames (?), Blood, Supernatural Horror (?), Eventual Smut, Barely Proofread, Reader is 28 and Keegan is 30, Reader is also AFAB

Word Count: 7.5k (enjoy keegan lovers ;)

Author's note: Blue cap anon thank you so much for inspiring me to write for Keegan. Honestly, I really love how this fic turned out and I hope you do too. I am so sorry I took so long to reply to you but you seriously warmed my heart so sosososo much when I read your message. I did not mean to put you on the back burner for this long/ Just know I have put so much effort into this to provide you a solid work so I hope that is a good enough excuse to have such a delayed response. Also so glad that you learned some new words LOL that really tickles me tbh, but I want to work more with the relationship that reader builds with Keegan in general or with any character x reader I write. So please enjoy this :)

edit: i think it's lowkey not living up to my expectations but ummm fuck it we ball

Sparks fly as the firewood in the pit crackles, casting an orange ember over you and the stranger sitting in front of you. His eyes, reminiscent of the cool, blueness of winter are lingering on you, and his heavy, leather jacket drapes over your shoulders to shield you from the chilliness of the early April evening. With his black cowboy hat slightly tilted upward, you note the black bandana covering most of his face, adding an air of mystery to his appearance.

"You really shouldn't be out here." His voice edges a precarious tone, though you cannot determine if it's toward you or whatever lurks in the abysmal woods. Maybe it was both. Your fingers curl around the distressed tanned hide, fiddling with the stitching of the material. A shudder careens through the columns of your spine, goosebumps trail over your skin, and the fuzz across your neck rises briefly.

"Don't look. Don't even acknowledge it." He instructs, steadying his gaze on you as he tinkers with the butterfly knife in his gloved hand. "W-what?" You gasp out, eyes reaming as your quivering vision sets on the embers of the pyre. A sinister presence harks over your convulsing body, heart palpitating out of your tightening sternum. But as soon as it arrives it departs and you're left heaving for the oxygen that was stripped from your lungs.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, what are you doin' walkin' around aimlessly in these mountains?" He repeatedly latches and unlatches the metal object in his hands, his gaze fixates on you. Truthfully, you were lost. When the engine of the old Dodge that you inherited from your grandfather abruptly cut out as you passed through a dead zone, it was all hauling ass from there on out. Classic damsel in distress situation.

Your father and he had both warned you about the Appalachian mountains. How apex predators inhabited the woods, preying on the innocent, ripping flesh apart on sight, or disappearing into the ghastly woods to never return. But, of course, you wrote it off as fearmongering. Never had you experienced the soul-crushing, harrowing existence of unidentified, cryptids lurking within the lacunas of the evergreens.

"My truck it—" You start to say, but the sound of him exhaling loudly cuts you off and you glance up at him with misery strewn across your features. Doe-eyes glimmering from the wetness that was welling in your oculars as your lips tremble. He outstretches his arm to the lantern on the perched log, "I've heard enough."

He begins to get up, extinguishing the flame, smothering it with what seemed to be a bag of salt and you felt fear creeping back into your system.

"Come on." As the pyre's embers fade, the lantern's switch emits a squeak, coaxing the oil flame to life, while the blood-curdling shrieks send shivers down your spine, ringing in your ears. And as if on cue, you cling to his side and he lets out a soft huff, feeling your arm coil around his.

The inferno acts as a bulwark from whatever is skulking around the both of you in the obscurity of the night as you move through the forest. You catch glimpses of shadows trekking about, seemingly running away from you now. A stark contrast from the previous frantic sprint through the woods in your petite, white frilly prairie dress that was now tattered at the edges and puffy sleeves. Now, you were safe. At least you certainly hope so.

A tiny light enters your line of sight in the distance, and you can only assume that that is his home. But you were still heeding the noises and images being molded in front of human eyes. It was as if the veil was lifted here, a supernatural existence in the vast mountains and woods of the Appalachia. You don't know whether to be terrified or fascinated, but you keep quiet as he silently leads you down the desire path to his home that is etching itself a little more into the horizon.

Approaching the home, you begin to notice the clandestine features of the house. A zephyr sweeps past you and the distinct smell of lavender and sage gently brims into your senses. You visibly shudder as the steps creak under your weight, your arm remains tucked into his own as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the door. Like a gentleman, he gestures to allow you in first and he follows closely behind, shutting it behind him.

"Shoes off at the door." He directs, treading past you as he tosses another piece of firewood into the lit fireplace.

What the fuck?

Is he just not going to acknowledge the paranormal manifestation that incurred upon them just now? The shadows of unearthly skinwalkers who infest the woods, who are prowling out there now as they barricade themselves from the outside? What is stopping them from forcefully intruding into his home?

You finally catch your breath for a moment, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest before you speak. "Are we not going to talk about what we just saw?"

"Nope." He simply replies, from another room and you blink back in surprise. Then it sinks in.

Of course, how could you forget? How can you forget the rules of the Appalachia, that were engrained into you as a child?

If you see something strange in the wilderness, no, you didn't.

If you hear something call your name, no, you didn't.

If you hear screaming in the Appalachian mountains, especially a woman's scream, no, you didn't. 

If you feel something stalking you, do not run.

Never, ever, whistle at night. 

Never go into the woods at night.

Never leave your windows open at night, even in the summer and honestly, the list dragged on and on and on.

Most of it falls on deaf ears never believing in the legends, and yet, here you are shaken up by things you never thought existed in a stranger's home who found it in his heart to shelter you until what you suppose would be dawn.

A wavering breath escapes you as you take a long gander at the well-maintained colonial home. The timeless and heirloom quality of the home becomes evident upon analyzing the vast array of paintings and framed photographs adorning the walls, each depicting individuals with strikingly similar features—dark brows, thick lashes, and mesmerizing steely blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul. You can't quite make out the framed artwork through your muzzy vision, but it's eerie the way you can't quite pinpoint why the face was so recognizable to you.

Exposed wooden ceiling beams motion your eyes to the inherited items and the mounted deer skull above the hearth. The warmth emanating from it felt different, soothing, lulling your quivery limbs. You oblige and kick off your boots, padding behind him as he draws out his gun from his holster and places it on the mahogany table. He removes his cowboy hat, hanging it on the horseshoe hat rack adjacent to the fireplace revealing his tousled short black locks. As he begins to unmask himself, a small gasp leaves your lips, fixating on his newly exposed features. And he was goddamn handsome and unusually reminiscent of someone from your childhood embarked into the backlogs of your memory, but of course, you brush it off.

And although he hears it, he does not acknowledge it as one hand grips the wooden chair and the other runs over his dark stubble. He's pensive. The last thing he needed was some heretic woman living under his roof for Lord knows how long. At this point, he decides that you are his responsibility and he cannot shirk from that for that would be unbecoming of a man like himself and he was raised better than that.

He glances up at the painting of his father above the hearth and you take note of the reflective state. His daddy was the embodiment of a Cowboy. Gentlemanly, charming, nifty, and always genial, providing the best hospitality a person could provide. No way, he'd accept Keegan kicking you to the curb, leaving you out for those creatures to rip you apart. Plus, his father would simply rise from his grave and kick his ass.

"You hungry?" He pays no mind to your lingering, bewitched eyes as he moves to the kitchen and you like a lost puppy trailing behind him. "Got some leftover potato leek soup."

And as if on cue, your stomach growls and he glances at your hand over your tummy. You flush from the embarrassment of your stomach being that raucous. He cocks a brow at you and you can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. Probably both. "Go sit." He points his chin to the table by the fireplace and you pad back to the living room, the tempering sensation of the flames causes you to become drowsy. You loll your head to analyze his stature. His figure towers over all of the antique appliances in the kitchen, muscles flexing as he prepares to reheat the soup on the stove. Rolling up his sleeves to reveal his taut, tanned forearms to open the cabinet and pull out the loaf of handmade sourdough, slicing it evenly and efficiently before tossing it in the toaster.

His form becomes a bit hazy as you lay your head against the top rail of the chair, mesmerized by the allure of his broadened shoulders, and soft pink lips that all by hide the peeking tongue indicating his concentration in preparing you a homecooked meal. Keegan never has guests over, in fact, no one is ever daft enough to come running around this way anyways because locals know better and tourists are too scared shitless to even enter this part of the Appalachia. He likes it like that, away from everything and everyone, being able to maintain his family's ranch that was inherited by him at the ripening age of 18.

His mother moved out to the suburbs because the death of his father was far too devasting on her already weary soul to continue living her days out on the farm. But Keegan doesn't mind it. He handles the livestock with ease, providing care to the birthing cattle, and maintaining the operations of the facilities as a whole to keep his honest living thriving. It's all in a good day's work for him. So caring after you shouldn't be too much of a hassle right?

You're suddenly awoken to the soft clatter of the bowl being set on the wooden table, the savory aroma of potato leek soup, and freshly toasted sourdough bread. He sets a glass of water beside you before he pulls his seat adjacent to you with his food.

"Eat." He orders, waiting for you to take a spoonful of thick soup. You hesitantly lift the spoon before glancing up at him. He blinks back at you, realizing the weight of his indiscretion, and whisks the soup with his spoon before noshing on it as if to tell you that is not poisoned nor drugged. Your other hand takes the bread in between your fingers and he mirrors your actions, claiming a bite from his own and you visibly relax.

The soup is scalding to the touch, but you welcome the sensation when you get a taste of the heavenly whipped soup. Not a single lump, just the smoothest, most savory supping of such a simple hearty soup instantly heartening your disconcerting body right down to your unsteady hand.

"I'll fix your truck as soon as dawn breaks." He flashes a glance before breaking his bread and scooping it into his soup. "Make yourself comfortable in the guest bedroom." He gestures with his hand to the upstairs.

"Oh, I couldn't—" You begin to say, but he will have none of it.

"You're not going out there until the sun's out." He replies simply, as he lifts his glass of water and sips from it. You observe the way his Adam's apple oscillates under his stubbly throat and you swallow thickly when you realize he's gazing at you keenly.

Warmth spreads to your cheeks and your eyes are now following the pattern of the wood grain. "That's…very kind of you."

"'s just the human thing to do." And there is an emphasis on the word 'human'.

You begin to play with your soup, scooping it up and letting it fall back into the bowl. "Right." Your voice is soft as you try to block out the memory just moments ago.

He narrows his eyes as if to study you. "What's your name?"

You glance up at him, and you're almost a bit hesitant to tell him. You almost want to lie, but you decide otherwise. "[Name], and yours?"

"Keegan."

"Keegan what?" You press. He raises a brow at you as he chews on his bread.

"Russ."

Russ. An esteemed surname that was echoed throughout your household during your adolescence. Presley Russ was a handsome and genial man who appeared at your father's porch steps every so often, tipping his hat at you with that charming smile and those glacial hues that made your heart jump. He'd invite your daddy out for nights at the rodeo or sipping on Highland Gaelic Ales on the porch from the afternoon til midnight, biding his time between Maryland and North Carolina.

You never quite caught glimpses of his son when you were living out on the ranch before you moved out for college, but you did remember a time when you ventured out past sunset in the abandoned village in the Black Hills you knew better than to be in when your daddy had to travel to Wheaton for the grand opening of his old buddy, Presley's restaurant accompanied by his reclusive son who you never remembered the name of. But for God's sake, who was stupid enough to go treading alone around the same location as the filming of the Blair Witch Project?

But you were a skeptic at best until you heard the unrelenting repetition of your name being called which led you astray, causing you to stumble over your own feet and ultimately collide with a rock that rendered you unconscious. Soon enough, you felt yourself being carried back to your home in the arms of the Russ boy with the hardened steely gaze that intently stared down at the knot forming on your forehead. You had never shut your eyes so quickly and the sound of his soft chuckle, caused you to be even more embarrassed as you were being handed off to your worried parents who were more than relieved and thankful to have retrieved you.

Of course, you had to act like you were unconscious. It was already humiliating enough that you were old enough to know better, but being ferried by a cute boy like you were some helpless damsel in distress was just mortifying.

But that was long forgotten by you in hazy summer days during your teen years before you went off to college and moved out into the city. In reality, you had written it off as a dream, a hallucination concocted by that vivid and graphic imagination of yours. That was always the case with you and the Appalachia. Always the non-believer.

But part of you was hoping that maybe he didn't recognize you after all this time, and yet the way he is staring you down is beginning to feel like otherwise.

"Blair." He suddenly says matter-of-factly as he taps his finger at the table and nods again. "Blair." A small toothy grin creeps on his lips before he chuckles.

Your eyes reaming as your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Black Hills, you're the daughter of the farmer right up in Garrett County."

You feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks. He knew. "I—How do you remember that?"

"Knew you looked familiar." He dives back into his steaming soup. "Was tryin' to figure out where I'd seen that necklace of yours." He juts his chin, pointing to the family heirloom that kisses your clavicle. It had been passed down for generations to the women in your family as a symbol of health, wisdom and longetivity. You feel for the 20k gold pendant with lilac and sage engraved into the soft metal.

He looks as if he's stifling another snicker. "Think you pissed yourself a little when I found you unconscious."

Now that gets you real flared up. The abrupt change in mood was beginning to wrack your nerves. You sigh knowing that at the very least you were in good hands. Familiarity begins to set in as he breaks the ice, creating a more comfortable atmosphere between you two.

"I did not!" You puff your cheeks out at him and he's tickled pink by your endearing, agitated reactions.

His gleeful grin only grows to his eyes. "Now, who willing goes into the woods by themselves when they know damn well what kind of activity breeds over there, hm? Gotta death wish if you ask me, kid."

You open your mouth to say something, but it clamps shut. You don't know whether to be abashed by the way his face lights up like the stars in the heavens above, or by the fact that he remembers that you pissed yourself a little through your favorite pair of khaki parachute shorts in a known marked area where people have gone missing. The stark realization of it being a tangible memory was mussing at your trepidation towards him. But he's teasing you now and it stirs a strange kind of desire in your lower belly as you uncomfortably shift in your creaky wooden seat.

Pushing your bowl away, you avoid responding by guzzling down your water and then calmly placing it back down.

"I'd like to get ready for bed now, if you don't mind."

He jovially raises his eyebrows as he munches on the last of his bread. The smirk still curled up on the corners of his pinkened lips.

He wipes the crumbs off his hands and thumbs either side of his mouth before he gets up, gesturing to you. " 'Course not."

You stand up and politely push your chair in as you track behind him up the croaking staircase. Your body is practically heaving with every step and by the top of it, you're feeling a bit winded. Keegan decides to keep his comments to himself as he ushers you down the grandiose hallway. The walls are painted ivory, and wall sconces are tapered candles on held-up aged tin nailed into the parapet. Hardwood floors are well kept, but the small divots in between the grain quickly reveal the age.

He jingles the knob to what you suppose is the guest bedroom, but it seems to be locked. His fingers fish into his pocket and you watch as he phalanges through the set and then finally picks out the antiquated rusty skeleton key. It's honestly a bit jarring that it requires a key to fasten the door, but at this point, if you're being kept away from the monsters lurking outside you'd be happy to be his little prisoner for now.

He pushes the door and it moans open, though much to your surprise it's polished and orderly. In the middle of the room is a wooden four-poster queen-sized bed, with a princess-like sheer white canopy that surreptitiously envelops the bed. The furniture is a bit more romantic with detailed carved patterns on the bookshelves that line up against the wall to the vanity that sat adjacent to the bed. The carmine curtains that drape over the large window, easily maneuver you to the balcony, and the soft calling of your name beckons you to open it…

A sturdy hand clasps over your shoulder and you jolt as you turn to him. He's shaking his head as he towers over you and you look so goddamn feeble with those damn bambi eyes of yours shimmering in the tiny sliver of moonlight that peeks out from the window. He tears his gaze away to tread over to the window, squeezing it shut with the velcro he sewed into the fabric and reinforces the window shut.

A sharp exhale leaves his nostrils and his eyes are on you again. "I totally can see why you ended up the way you did." He glimpses over your dirtied and frayed dress, skinned, bloodstained knees, and contusions running up and down your legs. God, he makes it so easy to feel self-conscious.

He licks his lips as he hovers his hand over the knob to his right, and signals you over. You begrudgingly stride over and you're just as impressed at the bathroom. From the massive mirror above the traditional wooden undermount double sink vanity to the wine-red clawfoot freestanding bathtub. Little golden trinkets pinstripe the rosy walls with the soft warm lighting of the hanging flowery ceiling light fixtures. You squint your eyes when he adjusts the radiance to a white glow with the dimmer light switch before he opens the drawers one by one.

"Towels, robes, spare clothes, toiletries. Gimme a shout if you need anything else."

You open your mouth to say something and his eyes playfully narrow at you. "—within reason, missy."

Your bottom lip reflexively juts out. You hate to admit it, but you were quite the spoiled child. Never receiving more than a gentle chide from your parents and always silver-spooned to the nines by your grandparents. The truck was an exception. More of a parting gift from your grandfather that was left to you for the sole purpose of memorabilia scored into every inch of the tarnished vehicle. You hope that Keegan is capable of fixing it since most parts were made by discontinued distributors and they were definitely not easy to come by as they were expensive.

"Christ, spoiled rotten, weren't ya?" He ribs, nudging you a bit and you frown at him.

"Was not." You childlessly retort, but the small smile on your face betrays your feeble attempt at contempt.

Fuck, she is so cute. Keegan thinks as he assimilates your hilly yet winsome appearance. Just as cute as he remembers when he was seventeen, ignorant of the malignancy that poisoned his father's lungs.

"Not as much as your daddy spoiled you." You shoot back and cover your mouth with your hands as his brows lift in half surprise and half revelry.

"Blair's got jokes now, huh?" The elicitive nickname indicative of your former years sends another rushing warmth to your face and you begin to shoo him out.

"I'd really like to be clean now, thank you." You cast a scowl his way and he's putting his hands up in surrender as he backs out of the bathroom followed by the bedroom.

"I take it that the lady needs her privacy now." He leans against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into his denim jean pockets that are dusty and darkened with wood ash and the smell of the campfire lingers on his skin.

"And her beauty sleep." You add on, folding your arms. His jacket is still resting over your shoulders and he chuckles at your Hello Kitty print socks. The way your hair was mussed up in the soft glow of the lantern lamp on the night table was starting to arouse him a bit.

Fuckkkkkk, you were so adorable. It might have taken every atom in his body not to bend you over the mattress and spank you for being such a dotty woman before pressing his cock past your velvety folds as he makes you apologize in the form of incoherent, dirty little whimpers.

But the thought is quickly dismissed as it's formed in the sullied cogitations of his mind.

"Good night, [name]." He murmurs in his husky voice yet there is a hint of mischief in his tone that sends a frisson up your spinal column.

"Good night, Keegan." You susurrate, as you slowly shut the door and his expression remains the same as your view of him narrows until it disappears behind the threshold.

"Christ." You mutter to yourself as you begin to get ready for bed, as you feel the rush of collywobbles in your stomach start to well up a craving for the cowboy. The time on your cracked phone screen reads 2:03 AM and a wave of exhaustion crashes over you at the realization. Had you really been out there for seven hours?

The warm water soothes your aching bones and forming scabs scattered across your body as you gently exfoliate your skin. Thankfully, Keegan had enough sense to drop off a first aid kit by your door before you slipped into the bath. You weren't looking forward to the sting of the antiseptic, but you were more than grateful to be alive and have all your limbs attached. As you close your eyes and let the sudsy bath take away your worries, a coaxing voice is entrancing you. At first, it begins as a hushed lull intermingled with what sounds like your name and a bit of white noise that makes your brain all fuzzy and warm, but it becomes audible. Forming coherent luring words that resemble Keegan's deep, raspy voice.

Drown, drown, drown.

And you promptly find yourself submerging into the tub and the stillness of the water is subduing, but something is instigating you to open your eyes. You push away the thought, taking in the tranquility, settling into the comforting sensation of weightlessness. And yet, the feeling is not leaving you. You internally sigh as you move your body to the surface, but you remain dormant. Your eyes shoot open and your blood runs cold.

Above is one of the most fear-inducing creatures that you have ever laid your eyes upon holding you down on either side of your shoulders with slender claws digging into your flesh. It resembles a caribou skull with elongated antlers but its eyes were a violent vermillion that penetrates your soul. Its body was dark, rickety, and harrowing. Bones astute against the matted onyx fur and its tongue hanging out of his jaw like it was ready to devour you. Panic surges through your veins as you thrash about but it drives its talons further into your skin and you shriek out in pain. Water enters your lungs, your heart is stammering at cardiac arrest speed and you're choking out for dear life. This is it. This is how you die and the worst part about it is, you couldn't even call out for hope from the man who saved you just moments ago.

But just as you're accepting your fate, the muffled sound of a gunshot pierces through the air and within seconds the skinwalker is incapacitated and then dead. Soon enough, you're being hoisted out by Keegan's strong hands, as you cling onto him naked, wet, and heaving for oxygen.

Water expels out from your esophagus and you're trembling even harder than you were before when he found you, grasping to him and he's immediately talking you down.

"It's alright, you're okay. You're okay." He soothes, one hand tenderly caressing your soddened hair and the other is gripping your body tight as he pulls you out of the tub. He wastes no time unplugging the drain and wrapping you in a large towel to cover your naked body. In all seriousness, Keegan didn't even take a second to gander at your naked form when he was gathering you out of the tub and he makes that clear that his sole objective was to eliminate the wendigo that trespassed into your sanctuary.

He could've sworn that he had locked up every single opening in the house as he does every single night. It was like clockwork to him ever since his father had shown him the ropes to the place.

"…Kee-keegan." You splutter out as you continue to clutch onto him and your body is saturating him with water. He doesn't care though, that was the least of his worries. Your eyes are reaming and glossy as you dare to peek down at the creature that was seconds away from letting you meet your maker, but there's nothing but ash on the tiled floor.

"It was—" You begin, peering up at his harking steely eyes and his jaw tightens.

"It's gone."

"I don't understand." You shake your head, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the soft clatter of the rifle hitting the bathroom counter delineates your scattered mind. "Oh. But—"

"Get dressed." He softly prompts and you shakily let go of his t-shirt and he hands you an eggshell-colored peignoir as he averts his gaze. He's cognizant of the post-distress and panic you're in, so makes no indication of reallocating himself away from you as you slip on the fabric nor does he provide an explanation for what just occurred.

And to be honest, you didn't want to know. There was nothing more disturbing than the encounter with death in the form of a mutated caribou that leaves you shaken up. Everything just seemed too difficult to wrap your little head around, so let him take care of you.

A fresh towel is on your head, soaking up the wetness tangled into your hair and you relax at his balmy touch.

"Thank you." You mutter as your eyes are cast downward, eyeing the imbued, darkened spots on his nightshirt.

He delicately hooks his index finger and thumb between your chin and lifts it upward as he dabs at your features with the towel. And then it lingers. His intense yet pensive gaze, his stout calloused thumb that is now brushing against your jaw shortly followed by your quivering bottom lip. His jaw ticks.

"I'll sleep in here tonight."

Your heart jumps rampantly against your chest. "What?"

"You almost died if it weren't for me."

"Yes, but it's not—!" You fall short of words yet again and you're tearing your gaze away from him. As dire as the situation was (and it was), Keegan cannot help himself from being just the tiniest bit entertained by your endearing little mannerisms.

"I'm not gonna sleep next to you in bed." He deadpans. Normally, he would let you stumble over your words, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and even as a noceur himself he was in desperate need of some z's. "The armchair over there quite comfy."

You follow his eyes to the brown leather recliner that was beside the bed and then back to him.

"I'm tired, Keegan." You profess, leaning your head against his chest and he's absentmindedly rubbing circles into the small of your back.

"I know."

Typically, you wouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger but given the unusual circumstances that were currently trying to slaughter your ass, you found yourself seeking solace in him.

"Let's get you into bed."

And soon he's leading you back to the bedroom, his hand is still on the small of your back as you walk on wobbly legs. He peels off the comforter and you sink into the mattress feeling like royalty in your crisp, clean nightgown, in your large princess-like bed, surrounded by plush pillows as the light in the lantern flickers. It casts shadows over his dashing features. The flame turns his glacial eyes into a soft apricot and an expression flickers over his visage—concern.

He's harping over your safety and the intruder that happened to bypass his heavily guarded home. No tripped wires, no movement detected on his cameras, and not to mention not a single sound was made until he heard your thrashing in his room across the hall. If he hadn't been there in time—

"You saved me, though." You drone, shutting your eyes as you tuck yourself into the cotton sheets.

His hardened glare softens at your words and how you look at ease now. A testament to your full, unshakeable faith in him. God, you were so quick to trust, it honestly scared him a little for you.

He scoffs. "How can you be so sure that I wouldn't hurt you?"

"Because your father would resurrect and beat the absolute shit out of you if you even dared to think about harming me." You state with a sly smirk on your face.

Keegan's expression briefly falters before he lets out a snicker, acknowledging the truth in your bold proclamation. "Crafty little critter, aren't ya?"

You giggle as shift under the sheets. It's almost a bit disturbing how you are seemingly fine and brushing off the situation. "Maybe."

He peers down at you for a moment and the welcoming feeling of your radiance starts to crawl into his chest. Almost like you were right where you needed to be, in his home, in his bed under his safeguarding. He wants nothing more than that. It's almost a bit perturbing how you are seemingly fine.

"Go to sleep." You mumble.

"You go to sleep."

"No, you first,"

"Who else is going to shield you against creatures of the night?"

You pause for a moment. "Good point."

He smiles as he walks over to the armchair, gun propped up against his left leg as he sits to face you. You're already curling up in a ball, and your chest rises and falls at a tranquil pace.

"Good night, Blair." He feels his eyes drooping as his vision becomes bleary.

You chuckle at the idiotic nickname. "Good night, Cowboy."

The remnants of tiny, foolish smiles are left on your faces as you drift off to sleep in your respective spaces. The last passing thought that crosses your mind is Keegan's tender gaze and his fingers brushing against your lips. Keegan wonders what is making you so giddy before the world around him fades out.

As morning breaks, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. The spring breeze wafts into the wisps of your hair and your eyes flutter open. The seat in front of you is now empty and the balcony door is wide open, and yet you're calm as you rise out of bed. Birds are chirping and the incessant droning of cicadas buzzing loudly against your eardrums is merely white noise when you recognize the low rumble of your truck's engine pulling up. There is an urgency that surges within you and soon you're sprinting out the door, and the heat of the cobblestone stings at the soles of your feet but you don't care.

The engine cuts and Keegan climbs out of the truck, sleeves rolled up in his army green henley, and he's wearing a clean pair of relaxed, light-wash jeans that skim the leather of his Tecovas. He peers up at you with wintry hues, tipping his hat, and in that instant, you're transported back to your childhood—Mr. Russ, tipping his hat with those same eyes and that glorious smile that always made your heart race.

The resemblance was both striking and uncanny, but damn, you were totally not complaining.

"Mornin', little lady. You're up quite early." He puts his hands on his hips and he's no longer the stone-faced, vendetta-filled Cowboy that you met last night. He's your friendly Appalachian Cowboy who provides you the sweet, sweet southern hospitality with a charming smile and a bit of a North Carolinian twang that sets your groins on fire.

"Mornin', Cowboy. Fixed my truck, did you?" You lean against the French iron wrought railing with your ruffled hair and white nightgown, rippling in the slight draft that carries the healing scent of sage and lavender. The fabric forms around your body and Keegan notices how it traces the outline of your curves and how the sun is hitting you just perfect enough for you to look like a literal angel.

But it's still the unrelenting, disconcerting feeling that creeps up on him when he looks up at you so unbothered, airheaded with that buoyant grin on your face. Was it really just a facade?

"Fixed it good enough for you to get back on your way." He turns from you to the truck and then back to you. "By the way, where were you headed?"

"Back to the old man." You cross your leg over the other, waiting for his response. He watches as the skin of your legs peeks out from under the peignoir and it's a bit enticing.

"I didn't contact him if that's what you're askin'" His hand acts like a sun visor to block the light out of his sensitive eyes to take a good gander at you.

"I would hope not. Don't need to send him into cardiac arrest." You joke and you see his shoulders shaking a bit, suggesting a chuckle.

"Made you breakfast."

"Yeah?" You simper, leaning a little more against the railing.

He can't help the way his grin broadens as he peers up at your flirty form. "Careful now, can't have you comin' back home with a broken neck, can we?"

Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.

Goddamn him and his pretty face. He's already heading inside as you're locking in on him, but Keegan isn't one to give you the satisfaction. He'll play the long game and he'll enjoy every minute of it. From the way you're sitting next to him at the table with your dress bunched up to your thighs to the way you sensually lick your spoon covered with cream and he's internally chuckling at the mess you've made on the corners of your lips, feigning gullibility to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, it's hot. He wants nothing more than to lick your fingers clean and sloppily kiss your sweet cream-laden lips.

Mmmm.

He doesn't say anything. Just enjoys his breakfast and keeps his gaze lowered like a gentleman. The company of a beautiful woman is enough for him on a fine Sunday morning like this.

You can only wonder what he's thinking as you act like a giddy schoolgirl who's trying to get the attention of her professor. Not that you had a significant age gap with Keegan, but in his original line of work there was a massive lapse. Being a retired Marine had probably mentally aged him over give or take 10 years would have been your best guess. And leaving the farm to his cousins in his absence probably impacted him even more, well, according to your gossip girl of a father at least.

He made trips down to NC every so often to check on his favorite, reclusive cowboy, sometimes tending to his facilities when need be. You never tagged along though. In your mind, you were a city girl who didn't mind dressing up as a cowgirl if she saw fit. So coming down from your city job, in the comfort of your sweet loft that overlooked the NOVA skyline didn't exactly make you miss the Appalachia trails.

Still, it is nice being back here with a somewhat familiar stranger in a home you had only seen the outside of because, for the majority of your life, you had so desperately tried to force out the rural in you. Call it toxic, but leaving the mountains always felt like the haze had lifted from your brain. It was unsettling to be here for too long.

"You're nervous."

You glance up from the runny eggs that you have been working on for the past twenty minutes. You give him a sheepish grin. "This place makes me nervous."

"Itching to go back to the city, huh?"

That elicits a small chuckle from you. "And what do you know about me?"

"Well, according to your father," He says in a knowing tone and you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a coy smile. "you love the city too much to move back."

"I don't think I'm too good for it. Here, I mean."

"Didn't say that. The Appalachia isn't for everyone." He butters his toast and then munches on it and soon it vanishes into his mouth. The night before is washed away from your memory, but Keegan loses track of his thoughts as he stares at the leftover jagged lines embedded into your skin from a creature that he knew you wanted to forget. A glance at his watch and he's up, wiping his hands and mouth with the serviette that was on his lap before he places it on the table. "You ready?"

"You got somewhere to be?" You raise your brows, not quite ready to leave yet.

"Matter o'fact I gotta date with an employee from Tractor Supply Co in about an hour, and it's thirty minutes out."

"New livestock?" You sip at your coffee.

A sad smile graces his lips. "Yeah, my last eldest cattle just passed away a few weeks ago."

You frown. "I'm sorry."

For a moment you swear you saw him get teary-eyed, but he quickly shakes himself out of the grief, grabbing his keys as he downs his glass of ice water. He stops himself for a moment as you get up to push your chair in and he can't help himself from tracing his fingers over the claw marks on either side of your shoulders. You shudder from the remembrance and his touch.

"[name]," He starts to express but your mood sours.

"Stop."

His expression falters and so does his hand as he lets it drop to his side. You didn't want to remember any of it. He notices how you clutch onto your necklace and he drops the subject.

"Your trucks waiting." He takes your hand and deposits the keys into your palm.

You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you."

You begin to approach your truck and you feel relief washing over you as you run your hand over the tarnished, rusted hood of the Dodge before you open the driver door. As you climb in you notice that all your belongings remain untouched. Scattered cassette tapes, polaroids, and the little Hawaiian girl that swayed with every movement still plastered onto the dash. The leather seats seem to have abrasions, revealing the cushion beneath, but you write it off as a bear maybe deciding to try and access your vehicle after you had abandoned it.

"…[name], ….[name]….!"

You're snapped out of your stupor, recollecting your thoughts as you glance over at him leaning his body against your truck. "I checked the vehicle, it's all clear for you to go. Should make it back alright."

"Why wouldn't it be if you fixed the engine?"

The look you give him is blank, free from concern and any worry that may have been left on your face from last night.

He nods, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. "Right, well, it was nice seeing you all grown up."

That provokes a reaction. Heat is rising to your cheeks and Keegan is standing there looking cool as ever as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow before putting it back on.

"Thank you." You say with more feeling, only your eyes acknowledging the horrors of last night. And that's enough for Keegan.

"You take care now." He tips his hat with a good-natured grin and you snicker at his little cowboy bit.

He waves to you as you back out of his driveway and you glance over from your rearview mirror as his towering figure disappears and so does any anamnesis from the evening prior. Or at least, you told yourself that.

And that was April. Months have gone by and Keegan doesn't exactly expect you to keep in contact. He's even surprised to hear a, '[name], says hello, by the way.' from your father during their weekly check-in.

And he definitely does not expect to see your truck in his driveway when he's coming back from milking his cows for the day with his new set of eyes that's in dog form, wagging her tail in anticipation as she sits.

"German Shepherd, eh? Suits you." You simper at him, leaning against the pillar of his home with glossy lips, and a cutesy red paisley swing dress that just barely covers your thighs. Your boots are hardly broken in as they dig into the grassy field and your hair is a little disheveled in an endearing way.

"Name's Miley." He peels off his gloves, shoving them into his back pocket. He's completely taken aback by your sudden presence, though he's not one to complain about a pretty lady showing up at his door.

"Hey, Miley." You coo, holding your hand to her and she's immediately reciprocating your energy tenfold as she jumps up and down, causing you to giggle and pet her soft fur.

Keegan doesn't even need to say anything as he glances down at the German Shepherd and she's already sitting on the ground between you two.

"Miss me?" You ask, coyly.

"Could ask you the same thing, Blair." He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you suspiciously. Something was off.

"I was just in town."

"Uh huh."

It doesn't take long before the act drops and distress is carving into your features. Lips are trembling in fear as your eyes begin to water.

"Something's been following me, Keegan." Your body naturally falls against his chest and his breath hitches a bit at your contact and the smell of your perfume wafts into his senses.

Fuck.

mini taglist: @keegansshark @soapsgf @milkteaarttime

#call of duty #call of duty imagines #keegan p russ #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ smut #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts #call of duty smut #keegan x reader #cod keegan #keegan russ #keegan smut #eventual smut #alternate universe #cod au

[birdkatze]

"But werewolves aren't real?" || werewolf! 141 x werewolf! reader Part 6

Future pairings = poly 141 x reader

Chapter pairings = everyone but Ghost/reader

Words = 1.2k

[Chapter 5] --- [Chapter 7]

Summery: After moving out of the big city and into the forest, you meet some men that might have some awners about whats been causing your pain.

Explicit under the cut

“I did not listen to you Gaz and because of that, Duck, you got hurt.” Price sat on the floor looking genuine.

Gaz sighs before standing over Price and cupping his jaw with both his hands. With his thumb he opens Price’s jaw and spits in it “You are forgiven…You need to listen to me. I'm an omega and have a different perspective than you knotheads.”

Price remained in the kneeling position and looked up at Gaz with adoration and understanding. “I understand now, I am truly sorry for everything.” A soft smell filled the area causing you to sneeze.

“Laying it on thick aren’t ya Cap’” Soap teased gently, “Even the nose blind puppy can smell it..”

“I’m notta puppy!” Huffing you tilt your head to look up at Soap, “I’m 60!”

“Not even that old puppy” Soap teased “Guess how old we are..”

“Um I feel like this is a trick question..” thinking for a second “Price is 100, You are 30, Gaz is 32, and um Ghost is 80..?”

“Not even close puppy..” Price gave you a teasing look. “I’m 800ish, Soap is 67, Gaz is 600ish, and Ghost is 720ish years old..”

“Nu uh no wayyyyy” You look at the men flabbergasted.

“Don’t fret you're not the only puppy, Soap is too” Price gave you a smirk and Soap rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay you three..” Gaz sighed and turned around so he was looking at you “we need to sort out your heat.”

“Oh yeah...” You nod, still curled up In Soap’s lap feeling so safe and comfortable. “What does that look like, um, I kinda got the gist? I just get really horny right?”

“More or less,” Gaz started to pace as he started explaining “It comes in waves, so first you’ll get really hungry, thirsty, clingy, very sleepy and in that stage you’ll put on some weight which isn't a bad thing. Then you’ll want to nest and then you'll sleep. You could get really horny or you could just be very clingy and sleepy.” Pausing in front of you and Soap Gaz gave you a soft look “It’s different for everyone duck…”

“Oh alright…when will that happen?”

“Once your cycle figures itself out then it’ll be twice a year.” Gaz sat back down on the couch sighing. “They rut 6 times a year, which can be rough at times…”

“Duck,” Price looked at you gently, standing up he ruffled Soap’s already messy mohawk. “We will help out since it’s dangerous to go through a heat alone…and please understand we will go at your pace.” 

Kissing your temple Soap huffed as Price ruffled his hair. “However,” Soap started “before heat starts and before it gets to yer’ brain we need to ken if we can help you sexually if needed..”

“I can’t do one night stands” You look at the three men quietly “I get too attached, but if you guys are gonna stay then I wouldn’t mind...”

“Duck, you aren’t getting rid of us unless you want us gone…” Gaz smiled, leaning over to lick your jaw.

“Gaz! You licked me!” You cringe a bit, unused to the custom.

Soap joined in, licking your neck. “Best get used to it, duck!”

“You're supposed to kiss on the lips.” You grumble half heartedly.

“Okay, okay duck come here.” Gaz pulled you into his arms smiling “Can I give ya a kiss?”

Nodding as Gaz pulls you into a gentle and chaste kiss. If felt like molton love pressing onto your lips. As Gaz pulls away you chase his lips. You sigh happily.

“That's what you are supposed to do..”

“Oh yeah?” Soap looked at you mischievously. “Like this?”

Soap pressed his lips to your mouth, he was an amazing kisser. He felt much more wild with his kiss. Soap then licked a stripe up your cheek. You push him off playfully. “Was that good duckie?”

“Alright you pups, lettem’ go.” Price gently scruffles the two men, looking at them with fond exasperation. “Gaz, If you are alright with it, in the next hour or so could you go talk to Simon? Me and Soap will keep an eye on duck, maybe take them into town to get them some nesting supplies…?”

Gaz nodded, looking a bit frustrated. “Simon needs to pull his head out of his ass..”

“Is Simon, Ghost?” You ask, looking between the men confused.

Leaning close to your ear, Soap’s breath fanned over your neck making you squirm a bit from the sensitivity “yup..” then he licked your neck again causing you to squeal.

“Soap!” 

Pulling you both apart Gaz kissed the cheeks of you and Soap before pulling away to kiss Price on the cheek. “I’ll be back, I gotta knock some sense into that big wanker.” Gaz then left out the sliding glass door running back into the forest.

Soap took the distraction to flip you both so he was laying on top of you on the couch. He buried his face in the crook of your neck “You smell so good duckie..” sighing he melted against you “could do for a kip”

You and Soap laid comfortably on the couch for about 45 minutes before Price loomed over you both.

“Soap” Price rumbled, gently running his hands down both of your backs. “We need to get some things for their heat, and for duck’s den…”

Soap made a grumpy noise, wrapping his arms around you. “ah ken but-”

“Soa-”

“You could nap in my bed while me and Price go out?”

“But it wouldnae be warmmmmm.” Pouting, Soap made a sad noise as he snuggled against you more.

“I have a heated blanket?”

“A what?” Sitting up, Soap manhandled you into his lap again. He looked incredibly intrigued. 

A spark of arousal lit through and before shaking it off you hum “It’s an electric blanket that has settings and stays fairly warm..” You look at Soap kindly “It used to help a bit when I had the implant in my arm..”

“Ooo” rubbing his eyes, Soap looked interested. “Would be nice..I’m always cold..”

Climbing out of his lap, you stand ready to get Soap into bed.

“You can do that or you can come help get some good treats for duck..” Price murmured slyly. “If not I’m sure me and duck can find 'em well enough, yeah?”

A conflicted look decorated Soap’s face, he did look exhausted and like he needed a nap but he really wanted to help.

Picking up on Soap’s exhaustion “Me and duck’ll wait on groceries so you can nap okay?” Price looked at Soap softly. In a fluid moment Price picked Soap up and brought him up to your room with you trailing close behind.

As soon as he was set on the bed and covered up with the blanket Soap was dead to the world, softly snoring as he fell asleep on his side.

“Alright duck, get dressed.” Patting your shoulder, Price walked down stairs. 

You bush, remembering you were only wearing a thin robe. Quickly and quietly you toss on some comfy clothes and walk down stairs. Price was sitting at your kitchen table scrolling on his phone.

“Ready, duck?” 

“”Yessir” 

#werewolves #call of duty #mw2 #captain john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle gaz x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #angst #a/b/o dynamics

[joshlmbrt]

i am in the middle of a charlie walker brainrot so. hear me out on this req. what if he had the biggest crush on the reader, like writing all his thoughts about reader in a diary or something. and reader finds the diary. you can decide the rest

charlie walker brainrot you say? (i am as well). thank you for this request!! sorry it took so long! i hope i do it justice! <3 w; fem!reader - anyone can read though, i barely use descriptions :) (you can change the pronouns to your liking!) fluffy!

the door flies open, causing your brows to lift slightly and charlie’s hair to jostle at the movement.

“did you forget i was coming?”

“what? no, no. of course not. i-i was just - uh - i was finishing up on homework.”

wrong.

he was writing in his journal about how you looked today and how he could barely even speak. he’d gotten every answer wrong when called on because he was only thinking about you.

“mhm,” your left brow stays slightly lifted as you give an accusatory up and down causing him to shift on his legs. “so… are we gonna watch those cheesy horror movies you picked out? or do you want me to just stand on your doorstep?”

he thinks you’re serious or upset with him, but he notices the teasing smile that makes its way onto your face. “no. sorry. come in,” he walks away. “i’ll get started on popping some popcorn and getting some other snacks. any drinks?”

“cherry coke?” you’re already halfway up the steps, stopping just to peek into the kitchen over the railing.

“of course.” he nods, watching you disappear up the steps. he lets out a little sigh, tossing the unpopped kernels into the microwave, pressing 2, the smell of butter filling his nose.

meanwhile, you make yourself comfortable on his flannel sheets, rolling onto your stomach and grabbing the tapes on his nightstand he had rented for your movie night, a journal falling to the ground.

‘DO NOT OPEN’ was written with black ink, several lines going over the lettering which makes it look slightly indented.

your brows lift, head tilting as you pick it up from the ground. your eyes cast a look towards the door you’d kept slightly open, before looking back towards the journal that you’re clearly not gonna look in.

you chew at the inside of your cheek, letting out a dejected sigh. “sorry, charlie…” he shouldve had a locked diary at least.

your interest was piqued when you noticed a little doodle on the first page. charlie was quiet about his talents - writing? wonderful. small drawings or doodles? believe it or not, he was great at them.

your fingers run over the doodle of yourself, a small smile pulling at your lips. you slowly turn the page and read the date before the chicken scrawl that was charlie walker’s handwriting.

‘it’s infuriating really - how she doesn’t know. about how i crave the affection she can give me, yet i still run from it. it’s not her fault really, she didn’t decide to be a loveable creature with pretty eyes and-‘

the journal is yanked from your hands, your eyes wide as you stare at charile who’s face is red and eyes turned down in embarrassment.

“can’t you read?” he points to the front.

“i definitely can…” you nod. “i… did you mean those things?”

he lets his shoulders slump and allows himself to sit next to you because this is probably the last time you’d want to be around a creep like him.

nothing he wrote or drew is remotely something an actual creep would do - yet he can’t help but think about how disgusted you might feel.

“yeah,” he shrugs. “for…for awhile - i think?” he never looks up once and you wish he would so you can look at him. “i…im sorry. i know you probably don’t like the way i wrote about you or-or-”

“charlie…” your hand reaches for his. he finally looks up, hesitating and pursing his plush red lips. you smile softly, your thumb moving along his knuckles as you scoot closer. “can i… kiss you?”

his brain short circuits and his lips part, brows lifting slightly at the words because he wasn’t expecting you to say that. “i…uh, yeah. sure. why not?”

you smile at his stumbled on words, leaning closer, eyes fluttering close as your lips brush against his. it’s hesitant because it’s still so new. his lips press against yours finally, hand reaching up and cupping your cheek with more sure movements.

he sucks in a deep breath, tilting his head and your head the way he wants to go, thumb pressing into the soft skin of your flushed cheek. you smile against his lips, pulling away slowly and resting your forehead against his.

“does…that mean you like me too?”

you laugh softly, your own hands lifting and tucking his hair behind his ears before holding his cheeks and rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone. “i believe it does, walker.”

#cherry writes ✿ #charlie walker x fem!reader #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x you #rory culkin x fem!reader #rory culkin x reader

[theamityelf]

"Be still, don't move" + Makoto/Nagito

(Okay, I leaned pretty wholesome for the Kamuegi one, and I already have a hunch that this one is taking my brain in another direction, lol. If someone wants wholesome Komaegi, all you have to do is ask!)

...

Makoto woke to the sound of someone humming.

His whole body was sore– a soreness only interrupted by a few distinct points of sharp pain –but he could feel that he was in a pretty comfortable bed. As he worked his eyes open, he had to fight against the interference of crusted tears that seemed to momentarily cement them shut. Which told him that he'd been asleep for longer than normal.

"Ah. I thought my terrible singing might wake you up. Sorry about that."

He focused his gaze on the face hovering nearby. He felt the vague, niggling familiarity that meant he was supposed to remember that face. He'd recovered a lot of his school memories, with the Future Foundation's help, but some things took longer to come back than others. And surviving a helicopter crash didn't help.

Wait! The helicopter!

"I was just very excited to get to tend to your wounds, is all," the stranger (or non-stranger) continued. His tangled, white hair stuck out in so many directions, it seemed to defy gravity; a ratty, striped shirt hung loose on his narrow frame; and a peculiar radiance in his eyes spoke to an excitement that was triumphing soundly over a deep physical exhaustion. "Of course, for your sake, I wish you had someone a lot more competent to assist you. But for my own, well...I am of course more than glad to serve you any way I can." A pink flush filled his cheeks as he offered up a strangely enthusiastic smile.

Makoto shook his head, baffled beyond words. "Serve me? Where are we? Where's...?" He shut his eyes for a moment, focusing. "I was in a helicopter. The...The city was under attack, and my sister...My friends..."

"Wow! You're so selfless, for someone who broke his leg in a helicopter crash."

He noticed, then, that his knee had been crudely bandaged into a thick makeshift cast. "Broke my leg?"

"Well, I'm no doctor, so I suppose you can take my words with a few grains of salt. It might not be exactly broken, but...I wouldn't recommend trying to walk on it."

Oh, that was never in question.

"It's funny. Your sister isn't nearly this injured. Did you try to shield her with your body, or...are you just that unlucky?" He seemed to delight in the question.

"You saw my sister?! Where is she?"

The delighted expression sobered into an apologetic smile. "I’m sorry to say that she isn’t here. She was made a prisoner of the Warriors of Hope. Ah, sorry! I shouldn't use such an inapt title in front of you, of all people. But I was able to hide you away from them. Fortunately, this house’s previous owners no longer have need of it. Very lucky for us, don’t you think?"

The second reference to luck stirred something in Makoto's mind. A name was trying to rise to the surface, very slowly...But he couldn't focus on that right now. "Who are the Warriors of Hope? What do you mean, my sister is their prisoner? And...are we still in Towa City? How long was I asleep?" His voice cracked as it became too painful to support it; it felt like he might have at least one bruised rib.

The non-stranger laid a pacifying hand on him, smiling besottedly. "There's no need to strain yourself. The world's savior has more than earned a nice, comfy spectator seat for this round. It's someone else's responsibility to prove hope supreme, right now. It would be far too easy for you. Not worth your time."

"But you said my sister is someone's prisoner!" Makoto tried to sit up, but the pacifying hand turned restraining, guiding him back down to the bed. He couldn't try again; the pain that had flared in his ribs would have grounded him if the hand hadn't.

"Be still; don't move. Ahh, the pull to heroism that emanates from you...It's a good thing I'm here to serve you, or who knows what you'd get into. Haha, just imagining it almost makes me feel faint..." One of his hands grasped his opposite arm, whereas the other remained in his lap. The latter was covered by a thick-looking mitten. (It reminded Makoto of Mukuro's tattoo and Kyoko's scars.) He looked giddy, exultant, and it didn't make sense. It didn't go with the horrible things he'd said. Something was seriously wrong here!

A part of a memory came into focus. A part of a name. "Ko...Ko-something..."

The non-stranger froze, suddenly looking almost fearful.

"Isn't that your name?" Makoto asked. "I'm sorry, I still have trouble remembering some things..."

Kyoko and Byakuya both had warned against being too open about what he did and didn't remember. They said that telling anyone how unreliable the recovered memory sometimes was, risked informing enemies that they could pretend to be friends. He knew that he should be more careful, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this person was a friend, or close to a friend. Maybe...a fond acquaintance?

But the look of alarm on his face seemed to mean Makoto had made some kind of mistake. "There's no need to remember me! I'm nobody. I don't deserve to be named by someone as incredible as you. Oh, I certainly hope you haven't been wasting your mental energy on something so pointless. I wouldn't forgive myself!"

"Hey, it's okay," Makoto said. "Please, I just-" He winced. Yeah, too much talking for his poor ribs. "Just need you to explain," he whispered, "what's going on here. The city, my sister..."

Ko-something's face softened at the first sign of pain. He dabbed the sweat from Makoto's face with a cold rag, smiling dreamily all the while. "Poor hope. As I said, you're not allowed to be the hero for this round. Your sister is alive. The city is...well, it's certainly not thriving any longer, but it's not entirely defenseless, either. And you are perfectly safe here. I will use my every breath to ensure that, especially."

Makoto wanted to say something, but the throbbing in his ribs forced him to just focus on breathing, for now. There were so many things he needed to follow up on, with this person he had definitely known before. Why was there a chain around his neck? Why did he seem to know everything that was happening? What was happening? Where did he know him from? Was it from Hope's Peak? What did he mean when he said he didn't deserve to be named? And what did he mean by all that servant stuff? Why had he saved Makoto and not Komaru, if they had been in the same crash? If it was just Ko-something alone, it probably would have been impossible for him to carry two people at once...Most likely, he'd carried Makoto first, because he was so injured, and then he'd gone back for Komaru and found she'd been abducted by those Warriors of Hope people. That made sense, right?

And he still hadn't gotten an explanation about the Warriors of Hope. The name sounded friendly, but the assertion that they were keeping Komaru prisoner definitely didn't. Ko-something had said the title was inapt.

There was so much going on, and breathing hurt.

"My friends," he said weakly.

"They're both alive, too," Ko-something assured him sweetly. "Everyone is alright. They all have their parts to play. And you" (He wiped the cool rag over Makoto's lips, even though there definitely wasn't any sweat there. He did sometimes drool in his sleep; maybe some of that had dried on him?) "just have to enjoy your vacation. Consider me entirely at your disposal to make your stay here more comfortable. Unfortunately, I can't always be at your side; I do have another job. But I'll give you a way to call me, and I promise you I will always rush right over. Nothing over there is more important to me than you. Oh! And you can call me Servant." That smile seemed...really genuine.

Komaeda. That was his name. Komaeda. And...he was from Hope's Peak. Another class. Another...

"You're like me," Makoto realized. "Ultimate Lucky Student."

Komaeda's smile tensed into a rictus of...what looked bizarrely like shame? "You can call me Servant," he reiterated, almost desperately. "Or whatever else you'd like to call me. I can understand if you don't think someone as unworthy as me should be allowed to be called a servant to the Ultimate Hope himself."

"This is wrong....I...I just-"

"I'm privileged to be under the sound of your voice, but I think you should hold off on talking much right now. It's clearly taking a toll, and I wouldn't be a very good servant if I let you puncture a lung." He presented a bottle of medicine and poured a bit of it into the cap. Makoto noticed he held the bottle between his knees to open it, rather than using both hands; his covered hand still lay in his lap. But he did use that hand to hold the cap steady while he poured into it. "This should help with the pain and help you to get some real sleep. Here."

As Komaeda brought the medicine to Makoto's lips, he could just hear what Byakuya, Toko, or Hiro would say about accepting medicine from someone so suspicious. But...he was already at Komaeda's mercy in every other way. He couldn't move, couldn't leave. His hacking gun was nowhere to be seen, and he had no way of calling for help, at least for now. If Komaeda wanted to hurt him, why would he have gone to the trouble of bandaging him and...?

After only a moment's hesitation, Makoto parted his lips and took the medicine.

Komaeda's pupils dilated slightly. "Thank you for your trust," he breathed, maybe more exultantly than Makoto would have liked. "I swear, for all my filthy word is worth, that you will not regret it. I'll guard you with my worthless life, I'll keep you abreast of all the good news, I'll attend to your every need until my final breath. Of course, I mean, until the battle is won. Of course, I will return you to your friends once the danger has passed. Yes, of course."

The tone Komaeda used when he said "of course" reminded Makoto of the many times Komaru had dismissively said that she'd get to something "later" and then inevitably forgot.

"Komaeda?" he tried to say, but he found that his speech slurred on the way out. He blinked and found that his eyelids were heavy.

"Shhh," the upperclassman shushed him, with adoration in his eyes that didn't match the friendly but casual rapport Makoto remembered from school. "Don't fight it. As I said, my hope deserves a good rest. I'll be back with your dinner by the time you wake up. I'll...try to have something that's worth eating, heheh."

#danganronpa #komaegi #my fanfic #nagito komaeda #makoto naegi #servant nagito #naemeshi #is that a thing? #komaegi udg au #yandere nagito komaeda

[enakane]

Hi, I figured you'd have an interesting take on this, as the #1 The Emporer fucker (affectionate) on my dash. I've always seen Ansur's attempted murder of the Emp being less "you're a horrifying monster who I must kill before you turn on us, even if it kills me to do so" and more "the man I knew would never want to live as a mindflayer, the man I knew would be horrified at what he's become, the man I knew would rather die" but he didnt consider that the man he knew was dead the moment he turned into a mindflayer, as it's (I think) canon that mindflayers feel and think differently than other races, so the 'man he knew' had been fundamentally changed in such a way as to become unrecognizable in his thought process, and thus, would no longer agree with his past-self. So while I don't think what Ansur did was right, I don't think he's the out-and-out villian some people paint him as, just someone so blinded by grief and fear and sadness, that he doesnt realize how changed Emp was. And then when you show up, the Emp at your back and an elder brain on the rise, I think Ansur is blinded by rage, and grief, and betrayal. He thinks all his worst fears about Emp have come true, and that you're, at best, a pawn in Emp's game, and at worst, a thrall, so that's why he attacks. Havent played that section in a while, so I might be talking out of my ass, but that's my take based on what I remember. Thoughts? (Sorry this is so long, I am a Verbose Bitch.)

(brb gonna get "#1 Emperor fucker" tattooed somewhere on me, truly an honor)

I totally agree that Ansur's intentions were first and foremost to enact what he thought would be Balduran's wishes! As far as he knew, he was dealing with an illithid puppeteering Balduran's body, and after failing to bring him back to the way he was (if I remember well, Ansur tried for some time to restore Balduran to his former self but failed), killing him was equivalent to putting down a zombie.

Mind flayers indeed canonically think differently from other races, plus (depending on the source), the host's mind either mostly or completely disappears once ceremorphosis is complete. There was a high chance he was dealing with a master manipulator that only pretended to remember who it used to be to be set free. Ansur was hardly evil for wanting to end Balduran's cursed existence/kill the thing pretending to be him, and Emp was hardly evil for choosing to live.

(If I start talking about how the Emperor wanting to live despite everything ties in perfectly with the game's theme of choosing to live in spite of irreversible changes + the I Want to Live song, I may never shut up, HE'S JUST LIKE US FR-)

Ansur remains as a ghost due to his unfinished business, so when he feels Emp near and speaks to you and him... The situation hasn't really changed for Ansur. Either Balduran is still an illithid or there's still an illithid pretending to be Balduran, and like you said, the chances that you're either a thrall or being manipulated are very high, so why wouldn't he try to finish the job and consider you an unfortunate collateral damage? There's no more evidence that Balduran is actually in control than there was the first time. Plus, I'd never considered that Ansur might feel the Elder Brain nearby and assume Emp is responsible; that would indeed make him feel betrayed and more willing to attack.

I definitely understand why people aren't too keen on the idea of trusting the Emperor bc mind flayers have a Reputation(tm), but how people came to hate Ansur is kind of weird imo? He's not a villain at all, his decision to kill Emp was a desperate last resort, a way to free Balduran from his torment and save the many people who were gonna get their brains eaten if he got out. I know some people dislike that he possesses Tav, but I played that scene before reading about it and it never bothered me, I mean... he's a ghost. If I'd played through bg3 without getting possessed at least once I'd be lowkey disappointed.

Thanks for giving me an excuse to ramble about my bg3 fave, I hope I'm coherent lol

#bg3 #bg3 emperor #bg3 spoilers #bg3 ansur #about the 'wanting to live despite everything' thing; #(if you spare Karlach) Wyll chooses to keep going even though he'll forever look like a devil and not his father's son #depending on your choices Karlach lives on in Avernus bc it's the only way to survive #unascended Astarion lives on as a forever spawn unable to see the sun he loves without burning to ash #and after Balduran becomes an illithid he chooses to make the most of it and refuses to die at Ansur's hand #it's all parallel stories and imo it makes Emp as much a companion as the others

[lavalampstealer]

Okay, I’ve made a compiled dump of lore on my interpretations/versions of IEYTD characters (mainly Phoenix and Handler so far) so I can pin this and ppl won’t have to go looking for old posts. I’ll be updating this as I figure stuff out or if anything changes with them. Apologies if this is a little hard to read, I kind of word-vomited info here and I’ve tried to clean it up a little. Spoiler warning for IEYTD 1 and 2

Buckle up it’s gonna be a long one

First up: Handler, he/him (tumblr doesn’t have yellow text so orange will have to do).

He wears a sleeveless yellow turtleneck over a short sleeved shirt, square glasses, and a yellow headset. Originally a Field Agent for the Agency, he made quite a name for himself and was given the internal/honorary nickname of Agent Moray due to his knack for slipping away from Zor’s clutches while also leaving carnage in his wake (little did people know, he usually ran on pure adrenaline, fear, and general clumsiness that worked out in his favor). He eventually had to retire from field work and become a handler due to him breaking his right leg during his last mission and it not healing properly. Before he had to hang up his spy gear, he was selected to be an early implant tester for the Agency, and the one he got was a rudimentary version of the telekinesis where he could float things in place but not grab objects from afar. He has kept it and it has proved especially useful during his time as a handler for hovering important documents like dossiers and building blueprints/layouts nearby during missions. As for his actual work as a handler, he acts as support to Phoenix, mostly with work related things, but sometimes emotionally as well. He acts as an anchor for Phoenix and is there to bring them back to reality should he notice them getting that glassy-eyed, million mile stare every once in a while. He was very concerned for them in the fallout of Operation: Death Engine and after that he became more attached to them, resulting in him being devastated after Rising Phoenix. If there is anything between him and Phoenix, it leans more towards him being like a father figure than anything else. He usually works from his office in the Agency building (the one from IEYTD 1), but occasionally for more urgent/important/overseas missions, he opts to be nearby (in the crowd in Stage Fright, above Phoenix somewhere in Eaves Drop, outside the chateau in Party Crasher, etc.). If I come up with more I’ll add it to here, 10/10 character.

Next (and probably much longer): Phoenix, they/them.

During IEYTD 1, they had short hair and wore a long sleeve dress shirt and their cyan tie. They were able to do more action-intense missions (hijacking Zor’s sub, sneaking into a cargo plane to steal a car, sneaking onto a shuttle to the Death Engine, etc.) and were generally more aloof about their own safety and pretty much saw their job as just a fun game. However, in the aftermath of Operation DE, their left leg was badly injured and needed to be replaced from the thigh down, so the Agency provided them with a robotic prosthetic. It took them a while to get used to it, and while they can walk, run, and stand with it just fine, it’s a bit difficult for them do more intense activity like, say, hand to hand combat (although a good kick to shin usually has foes doubled over) or dodging projectiles. They also got their facial scars from the DE Incident, with the one on their left cheek coming from the beam that shot into their shuttle when the Death Engine fired for the first time. The other two are just general nicks and gashes from crashing back to Earth. Because of their robotic leg, someone in the Agency gave them the nickname “Tin Can” and it stuck (Phoenix pretends to hate it but thinks it’s amusing). After months of recovery, they were cleared for field work once again where they were given slightly easier missions that have most of the action happen while they’re seated (an exception to this is the implied fight with Gibson before Party Crasher because him being there was unexpected). This time around they prefer to roll up their sleeves because it’s more comfortable, allows for more movement, and it keeps them from getting singed/dirty, but they still wear a cyan tie (a new one since their old one was torn). Their hair grew out during their stint in Medical and they liked it, so they decided to keep it longer. Not much happened to them physically during IEYTD 2, but after Rising Phoenix they had their right arm replaced from the elbow down and got an updated leg (their og prosthetic was shattered in the fall).

I don’t have a design for them as they are in IEYTD 3 yet, so for now just imagine more scarring, longer hair, and a metallic arm from the elbow onwards.

Now, enough about their physical description, now it’s time for more on their mental state(s). After the DE Incident, Phoenix refused to actually dive into their emotions about losing a leg and nearly dying and instead preoccupied themselves with learning to use their new prosthetic and getting well again so they could return to field work. They don’t like to be alone with their thoughts for too long otherwise they start to spiral to a bad place so they’re always listening to some kind of music (a radio, headphones, humming/singing a song to themselves, or just replaying songs in their head). Handler helps them with this and pulls them back to the present every so often. Phoenix also once received an anonymous gift package that contained some very comfy and good quality earbuds (three guesses as to who sent them). They weren’t too surprised by Juniper’s twist of actually being evil (they had an icky feeling about the slimeball ever since they heard his tone in his call during their mission briefing for Jet Set). During Safe and Sound (and by extension, the tutorial), Phoenix gets a sinking feeling that Handler was never truly with the Agency and had betrayed them until Juniper revealed his act. Phoenix is furious with him for toying with them like that and mentally kick themselves for falling for it and for allowing themselves to get that attached to Handler (it’s like a taboo/rule at the Agency for handler and agents to not get connected (they don’t have the budget for employee therapy)).

More random tidbits about them and some other stuff that I couldn’t work into the above paragraphs:

- JJ carries a comb in his pocket at all times because he wants to make sure he always looks good (the smug look on his face undercuts the effect)

- JJ’s hair is more on the side of fluffy/soft but when he slicks it back it looks thinner and more wiry

- Phoenix’s color before getting their TK was a darker blue

- Handler’s favorite flowers were marigolds but after Jet Set, he refuses to have any near him

- Before becoming a handler, Handler’s color was more of an orange before mellowing out to a golden yellow after his retirement from field work

- Phoenix and Handler are injured in opposite legs, to which Handler teases them about them becoming an old man like him (he’s not old, about mid/late 40s-ish, idk)

- Phoenix is around 5’8 while Handler is a little under 5’6

- The Agency trains agents with the implant to use a sort of pointing finger gesture to use their powers but they can develop their own hand sign/gesture that better suits them. The pointer finger is generally effective for everyone but is limited in the sense that the user can’t pick up/float heavy objects. Once agents find a gesture that works best for them, they’re able to lift larger objects (like other people, crates, chairs, etc.). Phoenix has yet to find their gesture

- Background characters do not get a color and are either solid black if they’re with Zoraxis or black with grey or muted gold accents if they’re with the Agency

- Phoenix can and does use their powers in their daily life when they’re off the clock. They use them while cooking to hover ingredients nearby, picking out clothes so that they don’t end up wrinkled on the ground, looking through reports on previous missions to study Zoraxis’ preferred attack methods (explosions, guns, darts, etc.), to grab things from high shelves or faraway, etc. They’re really casual about using it and have to stop themselves from doing it when they go out in public (unless no one’s looking)

- Phoenix isn’t a bad cook, they just like to burn their food on purpose (they like the taste and it annoys Handler)

- Handler is a good cook and gets ticked off whenever Phoenix burns food

- Songs that fit Handler: From The Start by Laufey, The World We Knew and My Way of Life by Frank Sinatra, No More by Manfred Minnich, Nothing by Bruno Major, Slow Summer Swing by Essential Jazz Masters, The Lamp is Low by Laurindo Almeida

- Songs that fit Phoenix: Skeleton Song by Kate Nash, Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny, Leave Me Alone by IDKHOW, Debt Collector, Bad Luck!, and Pressure Bomb 3?!?! by Jhariah (Beginner’s Guide versions), My Way by Frank Sinatra, This Side of Paradise by Coyote Theory (thanks @dieing-lilac for sending me some of these <3)

The songs are a mix of songs from ones that fit their general vibes to ones where the lyrics are accurate (to some degree) of their emotions (Phoenix’s especially). 10/10 songs go check them out if you can

Also the way that character colors work for my style/designs is that it’s an artistic choice to color characters’ details rather than their scars/eyebrows/tongues literally being something like blue or green. A character’s color is a reflection of their personality, characteristics, and general feel that I get from them, with the exception of if a character already has a canonical color (like John Juniper and Roxana Prism). Handler is golden yellow because he seems warm and he likes/liked scotch and marigolds, as well as his subtitle color in IEYTD 1 being yellow (albeit a different shade). Zor is red and gold because Zoraxis is also red and gold so it just makes sense that they would have the same colors as their corporation (also the cliché that red=evil, that whole thing). Phoenix is cyan because of their powers and it fits their personality more than red or any other color would. I don’t really have a reason for why Fabricator would be indigo other than her polaroid pic’s lighting looks dark blue/indigo and that it just makes sense to me. Solaris would be orange because of her love for lasers and because her name makes me think of a glowing ember orange. The more of an impact a character has on the story, the brighter/more saturated their color is (Ex: Daniel Sans would have a muted yellow-green and Anna Ulanova would have a muted maroon because they both don’t appear much but aren’t unimportant).

I think that’s all I have for now, but some of Handler and Phoenix’s characterization can’t really be accurately described without just showing them in their element, so I’m thinking of maybe writing a little story about how Phoenix joined the Agency, how their training went, how they got the implant, and how the events of IEYTD 1 and 2 went with them :) No promises though as I’ll have to find time to plan it out, but if I ever do it I’ll be sure to put it on wattpad or ao3 or something, I’ve never posted a story anywhere before so we’ll see how it goes

Enough of my rambling, I set you readers who made it this far free <33 also here’s something for having made it all the way to the end: 🍬

#ieytd #ieytd2 #i expect you to die #agent phoenix #ieytd handler #agent phoenix ieytd #ieytd fandom #john juniper #I am so sorry if this is disorganized #I did say it was gonna be a dump of info didn’t say what the quality would be #also your honor they are in love but neither wants to fully admit it can I bonk them over the head with a squeaky mallet? #it’s now canon that Phoenix has some kind of brain damage #I gotta research how irl trauma works bc I don’t want to write about it/represent it inaccurately by accident #that’s why I was kinda vague abt it in the post #you’re still reading. why. also also while I have your attention go drink some water :) #lava’s rambles

[skitskatdacat63]

I feel like at least several times a month, I have a random insane revitalization of my love for The Smiths. Not that I ever stop loving them, but I'll listen to some song and then suddenly fall into this pit of just deep, intense love for their music again where I can't stop listening to their music on repeat and watching live performances and looking at pics like AAAAAHHHHHH WHY IS THEIR MUSIC SO GOOOD?????? WHY IS IT PERFECT?????? WHY WERE THEY SO GENDER???????

(songs I am feeling intense brainrot over rn in case you're curious: "I Want The One I Can't Have(live)", "Stretch Out and Wait(live)", "You Just Haven't Earned It Yet Baby", "Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others(demo)", "What She Said", "The Boy With The Thorn in His Side(live)"(p.s. I Want The One I Can't Have is Martian-coded to me, pls listen)(also it reminds me of that movie I watched yesterday)

#i want the one i cant have is playing on repeat in my brain rn and i watched a live performance and i was tearing up. why am i like this #the live versions of their songs are just incredibly good like at an insane level to me #i know the guitar is very complicated bcs my brother is equally obsessed w the smiths and rants to me abt how hard their music is to play #so the fact that their live performances are equal if not better than their studio versions is crazy #and i love the way he sings in live versions AAAAHHHH like just so over the top and dramatic #i absolutely love singing along to music and their songs are perfect bcs i can be as dramatic and loud as i want #and that hes singing perfectly and dramatizing it so much also while dancing along to it on stage?????? #their music has an energy to it in every single aspect that no other band will ever be able to reach for me #i spent so much of today just dancing along to their music and singing over the top. i just felt so joyful 🥹🥹🥹🥹 #GAAAHHHH sorry i just am really in it rn hahaha #its just crazy to me ig that ive listened to these songs so many times and they still fill me with such emotion #my mom sings and dance along w me tho shes like 'wow youre so energetic today did you hit your head or smth' 😭😭😭 #also was losing my mind looking at their pictures today and gahhhhhhhhb such gender envy their gender is unmatched to me #but its so funny every time i get gender envy over smiths era morrissey + #because theres some pics of my dad from that same period of time when he was younger where he literally looks exactly like morrissey #SIR WHY DID I NOT INHERIT YOUR LEVEL OF GENDER???????(my dad was a icon sjdkkd we look alike tbh) #anyways: i feel very joyful and energetic about their music. they just make me so happy and i want to dance around again 🥹 #i think this recent lapse into the pit was bcs i listened to the demos/live versions on The Queen is Dead deluxe edition #and im like ....how the fuck are they this fucking good?????? #hehehe tho my passion has affected others 🤭 #my brother is learning some songs on guitar atm and waxes poetic abt their instrumentals #my dad always listens to their entire discography when he needs background music. and my mom sings and dances w me #sorry this is unhinged i just feel a lot of serotonin bcs their music and i need to infect other people LMAO #maybe i need to make another web weave #catie.rambling.txt

[koifsssh]

hello i am to bother you again

I was listening to the song ‘somethin’ stupid’ by Frank Sinatra and his wife and I thought of Rainy

thas it

ohhh my dearest neighbor, you've only added a song to my silly little playlist...

the song is definitely rainy! but it is also maverick... it's maverick AND rainy, its both of them... i wish i could explain, but i simply cannot put it into words...

all you need to know for right now is that they are very silly...

#chit chat #they are in my brain constantly #the amount of drawings of them is insane #this goes for mob au #but also just them normally #you don't understand!!! they!!! are so!!! #i can't write about them and not immediately turn into mush... #it doesn't help they are so so very cute together #the things i have planned for you all to see soon... it is simply insane... #ohhh rainy... ohhh maverick... ohhh the both of them... #did you know they're called ''micdrop''? #it is so very silly... #and you are not bothering! i am so sorry #i see your notifications! i did want to do that ''add your oc'' thing... but i just havent had the time much to do anything #school keeps my attention...

[jatlokgwo]

♡ love you, ᰔ dearest Ouppy. You are the best Ouppy the world has ever seen and you are so good at being a cute lil bab. You deserve the world and all the best pets and snacks and play time and scritches and playtime and soft snuggles.

i am going to learn how make sushi so that i can make your favorite i want you to have soft things and feel so loved and happy and if i get the world then so do you cuz im sharing it with you

#♡kibty♡ #pup talks #sorry 4 taking forwver to awnser you i kept seein this n goin !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so i wanted to hold it for a bit #silly can a cat and a dogthing really get along? to this cat is like family to me and language doesnt have enough words pipeline 我爱你 #<- hope is ok to say that you used the familial tone tag a bit ago but don wanna make you uncomfy >.< #you make the world feel so soft like a blanket and scary things not so bad after all <3<3 #magic kibty full of friend，，，， #tbh a part of me is scared cuz somwone that traumatized me did alot of the same stuff but trust you #i feel safe to say no n change n take a while to awnser n be small n say things wrong/not have words n it means alot to me your so m #much. to me i love you #dearest kibty hugging you in my brain and <3<3<3 your so awesome an soft am so happy that i know you #i wanna say more stuff cuz !!!! but i dont have anything else to say um 🐈

[mangoisms]

i was so insane for this

#something something visceral violence and intimacy in the blood on each others hands FROM each other #something something the helplessness of standing outside of a superhero/vigilante #knowing they can die at any moment and you and no one else can do anything about it #so you NEED to work a thousand times harder to find a way to keep it from happening no matter what the universe says or demands #i was so INSANE for this!!! #this isn’t dc sorry this is from daiya. someone commented on this fic and i wanted to come back to this moment #this scene and the one where they’re taking out the bullets are the ones i’m proudest of #the latter bc it is so HEAVY and emotionally intense. i dig deep for that. like REALLY deep to describe it the best i can #and then this. gestures to earlier tags. you know #it may not seem like it but i am the most proudest of this fic because i executed it perfectly #like from what was In My Brain and onto paper #like idk the dilemma of being a civilian and your loved one being a vigilante/superhero. i really like how i did it #proud <3 and insane <3

[coffee-bat]

What's "whump"?

oh uh. right. that might not be as well known as i assumed💀

basically, whump is hurt/comfort with emphasis on the "hurt" part. the thing that differentiates it from typical angst / hurt/comfort is that it gives a strong dopamine rush to the creator/reader/viewer. not because you're actually sadistic or anything, you just enjoy it for fictional characters you like. i don't know how to explain it or why it's like this. but it makes brain go brrrrr

#i'll be real i spent most of my life thinking there's something deeply wrong with me #for wanting my favorite characters to get hurt/liking when they do #bc these scenarios would always give me a big happy chemical rush #and i did a LOT of contemplating and self reflection like. am i a bad person. #'am i actually sadistic'. no. i hate when real people are hurt. this only applies to very specific fictional characters #i've felt a lot better about it since i discovered it's actually a pretty common phenomenon😭😭 like oh hey i'm not alone it's not just- #-my brain that's weird. y'know #ask #sorry for the ramble. tl;dr it's when you get happy chemicals from your blorbos being hurt then taken care of

[murobrown]

.

#it's that time of the month when I just want to sell my uterus on black market with human organs #the week leading up to my period is far more worse than the actual period #it made me gain 2 kg and I can't stop freaking out about it...i know i lose them every month but my brain won't leave me alone #it's making me want to starve myself or just work out until i collapse #tmi sorry...how is your Friday evening? #I'm bored and I'm deciding between going to bed before 11 pm or let my brain torture me a little bit more #I don't even think I'm excited about the weekend anymore because it means I'll have to eat again #you just eat and work out and eat and work out and try not think about the calories because we're not doing thay anymore #but deep down my brain still knows the numbers and won't let me go over 900 calories #i perfected my body but destroyed my head even more #i shouldn't say thay but maybe it's worth it #feeling happy in my own skin is the best feeling in the world #and I know I'm shallow because of that but for the first time in my life i like my body #i actually like all parts of my body #and knowing that i did it with all that hard work feels even better #but on the other hand now I'm just too scared I'm going to lose it all if I eat a cookie after lunch #i think I'm too deep into this #is it bad that I like the feeling of bones under my skin? #am I becoming delusional? #that's what a menstrual cycle does to a emotionally unstable woman #it makes me feel angry that out of four weeks in a month i get like max two weeks when I feel good and normal #all of that for nothing #anyway maybe it's time to stop myself..

[foxgloveinspace]

Listen. If you had told me in August I would be hyperfocused on Assassin's Creed, Daredevil, CoD, and DBH by January, I would have shoved you. And the fact that I am MORE INTO THESE THINGS THEN I EVER HAVE BEEN!! WHen three of these are re-hyperfixations, and I am just. FUlly, FULLY obsessed with them. And DBH was just last night,fuck. TO be fair I had a long af night. I was up til 3. reading dbh fic (but the fic was not the reason I couldn't sleep, I couldn't sleep so I fic, you see).

#very much so #the ac and dd brain rot is real for me right now. it's so fucking real guys. #I think about Desmond Miles at least once a day #and Matt Murdock??? No one wants to know. seriously it's getting to a point I have experienced since I was a teenager. Thats how I think ab #out him. I think it's unhealthy tbh #I'm so sleep deprived i... why has this happened to me #hopfully i can sleep tonight #pray for me. send sleep vibes. or whatever the fuck. hit me in the head with something. put lavender under my nose (it give me bad dreams- #so don't actually do that) #why did I think I could write a prompt tonight thats so dumb??? I can't spell right now and all I am doing is watching ah compilations #but I am so grateful to the person who sent a prompt anon I love you so much I'm kissing your head a lil' smooooooooooch #if anyone is reading this I am SO SORRY #this got off track. oh well #yes I took the time to make my my capital letters <s> it looks soooo much better #I like the look of <s> a lot anywya whay if i started making all my posts <s> #I'm not editing my misspellings tonight tired sleep now soon

[chameleon-sting]

hello! my sense of time somehow has gotten even worse and it is bc in the time that ive been barely active, i have acquired Dragon Ball Hyperfixation in the year of our lord 2022. i watched all of the original show right at the end of last year and im now 30 episodes into z and i have had Many thoughts but ive been basically bombarding one of my friends with them. i would like to talk to more people about it bc as much fun as we're having i also feel incomprehensible. if you are queer, neurodivergent, and/or a person of color (or an ally for all three) who is also a fan of dragon ball and down to discuss with someone whose brain cells are being shaken around in a soda can by this series as we speak, please interact 🥺 i would like to be friends

#thoughts on #ive actually never done a. whatever these are called. 'mutual call'? sorry if its a little obstructive. i only plan to do this once #dragon ball #dbz #in the body of the post i pointed out three specific traits bc they are minority groups that i fall into that i struggle to find and that #ive found some people can be hostile toward. like im black and i have some. Opinions on parts of dragon ball. #you probably get it #also i am an artist! i draw! i havent posted anything db yet but if in the coming days i do (i may) then... this sentence doesnt make sense #if i posted dragon ball art on my art blog. i dont post it bc i did. no i didnt ❤️ #well if youre here in these tags this is how my brain works so if you dislike these vibes no worries we dont have to talk at all #but i may still want to follow #you know how it is

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

sonic the hedgehog tumblr dashboard simulator

0 notes

💠 extremegayr Follow

got held up in traffic today cause some noob couldnt drive the fucking loop-de-loop. lmfao fucking coward

15 notes

🎛 420zone Follow

ok but robotnik's kind of a dilf tho

🌫 wispgender Follow

he's literally a war criminal can we NOT do this tumblr

🎛 420zone Follow

📰 its-no-use Follow

@wispgender dont u literally simp for nominatus like who is one to talk

🌫 wispgender Follow

NOMINATUS ISN'T REAL????

🛜 viralsensation-destructorofworlds Follow

that you know of

🌫 wispgender Follow

what

10,672 notes

🔷 sonicinthewild

43,834 notes

☣️ lineinthesand Follow

saw sonic the hedgehog irl once. he showed up at my village, released 30 feral pickys in the town hall, paid the ice cream vendor roughly a thousand rings for a single chili dog, told me not to waste my life worrying about the little things, and then caused a fucking tornado

🧿 spiralhillspindash Follow

ok and??? you're not special

☣️ lineinthesand Follow

THIS WAS A PERSONAL POST GO AWAAAAY

173 notes

🌠 chaoinspace2electricboogaloo

sucks that sticks the badger hates all technology you know she would do NUMBERS on here

568 notes

☸️ r0u3e Follow

being an islander be like "are those the kind of eggsplosions i should worry about or the kind of eggsplosions that are gonna repair our crops, fix the economy, and bring my dead grandma back to life"

🌁 eggpawnkindathicctho Follow

being a continenter be like "oh great what primordial diety has risen from the grave to block traffic and fight a 15yo today"

🥭 chao-official

being a chao be like "chao chao chao chao chao"

🌁 eggpawnkindathicctho Follow

you said it my mans

579,056 notes

🏵 sprinkles-the-chao Follow

hold on if sonic the hedgehog is jewish then how is he santa claus

🤖 e123-omegaverse Follow

dont question him

85,628 notes

☣️ sparkygoboom Follow

hey guys real question are human/mobian relationships problematic

💠 extremegayr Follow

op is about to start the anthro church schism of the fifteenth year all over again

🛞 mobotropolis Follow

ok but in all seriousness did your mom never teach you that part of history

🎢 marxiobros Follow

someone doesn't know about the united federations public school system

🛞 mobotropolis Follow

what the fuck is a public school

⏭️ drowningmusic Follow

⚄ paradoxprism Follow

are we gonna talk about op's chaos radiation fetish

💠 extremegayr Follow

OP'S WHAT NOW

🏞 mobiancrossing Follow

ok but am i the only one who thinks that the public school system would be a good idea if handled right? like i know it's traditional to learn from your parents and then experience the world on our own from the ages of 7-13 but like combining all our knowledge and learning together doesnt seem like a bad idea

☠️ fabian-vane-number-1-hater Follow

bitch that's what the internet is for

🌅 s0leanna-apple-barrell

yeah where else am i gonna learn to make infinite chaos emeralds

❇️ freesurge Follow

"infinite chaos emeralds" that's called the phantom ruby

🏳️‍🌈 rainbowwispforgayrights Follow

everybody on this site has brain damage

❇️ freesurge Follow

yeah. from the radiation

603,573 notes

🐸 froggysfriend

caught this today

🏝 digginginthegroundfortubers

if anything happens to this blog i genuinely hope eggman blows us all up as punishment

950,420 notes

🐊 teamchaotixofficial

Hey guys! Sorry to do this again but rent's a little tight this month :( If we've ever solved a case for you guys or made you guys smile, please consider sending a ko-fi our way! we just need a few rings to get through the month <3

6 notes

🖼 give-the-koco-a-gun Follow

do we ever talk about that time the sky turned blood-red and shadow the hedgehog's demon dad descended from on high to murder us all and we only barely survived

❤️‍🔥 songoose4evr Follow

shadow fixed it it's fine

🎮 n0cturnity

yeah that was like twelve apocalypses ago move on

🎆 robotniksbignaturals Follow

kinda wanted to bang black doom tbh

🖼 give-the-koco-a-gun Follow

THE DEVIL???? FROM THE BIBLE????

🎆 robotniksbignaturals Follow

yeah. move over gayboy i'm boutta be shadow's new dad

856,301 notes

🗑️ berrybarry

starting a conspiracy that time hasnt moved since 2006

🗑️ berrybarry

why the fuck was i shadowbanned after posting this

8 notes

🤡 clownfinite Follow

tfw you finally save up enough rings for ice cream and you go outside and get hit by swatbot pieces and the rings just go fuckin everywhere

587 notes

🔷 sonicinthewild

34,452 notes

🌌 h-o-l-o-l-y-n-x

so did y'all see that genesis wave or was it just me

0 notes

🆙 planetsgiantcrack Follow

the virgin tweeter "if you use a bad word in the same tweet as the word 'cream' you get obliterated off the site" vs this chad site of "i want to put knuckles back in a microwave"

💟 presidentyaoi Follow

BACK????

69,849 notes

⬜️ chao-and-wisps-4-ever-so-cute-2 Follow

ok posting my first fanart to this site pls be nice! <3

2 notes

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

why does tails look like he's always about to say "it fucken WIMDY"

🦊 miles-prower-official

Hello, @emeraldfwuitgummy!

I actually quote that image on a constant basis! Sonic thinks it's hilarious every time. He's quite the fan of memes, and it's nice to get a laugh out of him!

Formally,

Dr. Miles "Tails" Prower, PHD

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

SO WAS ANYONE GOING TO TELL ME THAT TAILS WAS ON THIS FUCKING SITE OR--

🏅 iwishhumanswerereal Follow

do. do you not know he created tailblr. dude it's in the name lmao

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

he

WHAT

🍭 milfwisp Follow

didn't eggman invent this site???

🪫 veganswatbot

THE EGG ABANDONED SCRAMBLR IN ITS TIME OF NEED AND THE FOX RAISED US FROM THE ASHES. YOU WILL NOT DISRESPECT HIM

🦊 miles-prower-official

Hello, @milfwisp and @veganswatbot!

Very good question! This site was Eggman's until I ate his bones. Thank you for engaging! :D

Formally,

Dr. Miles "Tails" Prower, PHD

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

YOU

WHAT

🌭 sonicsays

what's not clicking

#long post / #sonic the hedgehog #sonicverse #sth #sonicedit #mine #unreality / #unreality #long post #<< trying different tags here cause ppl are telling me the first attempt wasnt working