#im not kidding I’m fucking dying out here man
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Zukka for the win my guys
#it’s that one scene in the middle of the night in the tea shop in We will last the night by CSHfic#guys Zukka has a chOKEhold on me like#a DEATH GRIP#im not kidding I’m fucking dying out here man#they produce the most egregious amount of serotonin in my brain#like it’s not even fair#like i love them so much you don’t understand#rec me fanfics PLEASE#fanart#Zukka#zuko#sokka#atla#atla fanart#avatar the last airbender#atla zuko#atla sokka
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the movie was ADORABLE and it was QUEER and it was CHEESY and HAPPY and SILLY and CUTE and I LOVED it and I have some THOUGHTS and im going to put them here bc idk what else to DO
bad reputation playing after cakegate into the intro credits was the most slay choice
alex is a bracelets man send tweet
the closet scene at the hospital was such a slay 10/10 alex looking like a pissed off little kid the whole time like yeah buddy throw ur little temper tantrum we love to see it
they didn’t say fuck enough times in this movie they said it so many times in the book wtf like you had the r rating already just use it why would you not use it???
the timeline is hurting my brain they’re shifting stuff around I am questioning reality
rip obtuse fucking asshole
TZP 🫶🏻
HISTORY HUH BET WE COULD MAKE SOME IM CRYING
why did we invent miguel he’s a snake literally for why was he there
while we’re on the topic of miguel I disagree with having alex have been w him bc I think it takes away from his complete obliviousness and his thus huge moment of realization w henry so I think we get less of an alex finding himself and more of an alex exploring this part of him that he already knew was there which isn’t inherently bad for a film or book but I just always found alexs discovery of his queerness and the resulting shifting/understanding of things from his past to be such an important part of the book for me personally like just with the rearranging of things he’s always felt but never noticed or payed attention to is very special and gets lost when you give him this queer experience that he’s fully aware and understanding of
zahra for the win
THEMS ON THE BALCONY WITH THE CROWD OUTSIDE THE PALACE IM SO GLAD THEY DIDNT CUT THE CROWD
ugh the yellow rose tie I’m crying
THE FORCED CONFORMITY OF THE CLOSET CANNOT BE ANSWERED WITH FORCED CONFORMITY IN COMING OUT OF IT SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK IM FUCKING SCREAMING
okay so ur going to talk about alexs eyelashes but NOT give the line to henry excuse me????
“take the american with you” im dying at that
girl they called the election so fast ik things move faster in movies but here’s me knowing how LONG it takes in the book and the SUSPENSE and the ADRENALINE and then it was just over like that before you even know it like damn
uma thurman woman that you are 💗
so I was thinking ab when they do the new years count down and these random girls kiss alex and I’m like damn no what it’s supposed to be nora but you know what then I realized they just made nora into a sister figure for alex since they got rid of june so their relationship is and always has been 100% platonic
it was so slay of them to literally open the movie with alex being nervous and thinking he’s going to mess up at the wedding and get rejected like yes thank you for addressing this boys perfectionism and imposter syndrome head on from the very beginning this is the alex we know and love
putting alex and henry in the same room when they’re talking on the phone to each other was such a good choice I love it
they made this movie for the readers you have to know the LORE you have to understand how DEEP henry and alexs relationship is and you simply cannot get that in a two hour film but goddamn did they do a good job trying
#rwrb spoilers#alex claremont diaz#casey mcquiston#rwrb film#rwrb movie#rwrb prime#rwrb book#rwrb#red white and royal blue#taylor zakhar perez#nicholas galitzine
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i absolutely fell in LOVE with your price fic holy shit. your writing is spectacular. then i read your request info and saw that you love keegan as well and my soul left my body.
So this is me requesting a keegan x reader fic bc i love this underrated man SO much!! maybe some enemies to lovers where one of them gets injured in the field and, thinking they're dying, a teary desperate confession ensues? lol im not good with prompts i just wanna see my man 🤧 thanks in advance i love ur work
(Don't) Go to War
Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader
Synopsis: Some days it became impossible not to lose your tempers with each other. Being enemies was easier than admitting you cared.
Word Count: 12.3k
Warnings: Angst, enemies to lovers, blood & gore, vulgar language, fluff & comfort eventually, suggestive (just a tiny bit)
A/N: Just a few more requests to get done, and then my inbox should be open again. I'm thinking I might do an independent Gaz fic too...but idk yet. Enjoy, Love!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
Some days it became impossible not to yell at him.
“I had the shot, Keegan!” Your voice carries over the hull of C-23 Sherpa, and you didn’t bother to stay strapped into your seat as the aircraft levels out around you. Thrusting your body up, your feet slam to the floor as you stalk over to the silent man who watches you with burning blue eyes, “If you hadn’t gotten in the way the target would be six feet under by now!”
Your face was twisted with rage, and a need for justice laced your brain like an inextinguishable blaze of fire.
Keegan and you had a violent streak of not getting along - to the point where Elias was close to separating the two of you permanently. It wasn’t entirely your fault, the man just got on your nerves when he acted like he could boss you around. No Man’s Land was your playground; you knew the trails, where to take shelter when needed, and what towns and backroads to avoid because of Federation occupation. You spent most of your time beyond the walls of Fort Santa Monica just like Keegan and the other Ghosts did – he had no right to lecture you out here.
He had no right to fuck up the mission.
“Kid,” The man in question warns, his form tense from where it leans against the wall. Around the two of you, the aircraft shakes from turbulence. Keegan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and behind the cloth over his face you see his lips thin dangerously, “I’d be careful what you say next.”
“Oh, shut the hell up!” You growl. The dirt and blood sticking to your skin makes you want to scratch at yourself with blunt nails; rip away the grime. Stomping up to Keegan you stand directly in front of him, a sneer heavy on your lips. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, “You have no right to tell me that. I worked my ass off getting that intel on Vidal Teo for months just for you to mess up my shot in no less than three seconds. What the fuck?!”
Keegan’s dead eyes glare from behind the stain of his black eye paint, the custom balaclava shifting as his hidden face moves. Over his arms, his fingers tense and tighten; a pulsing atmosphere begins to perforate the hull. The already strained rope was snapping.
Vidal Teo was a high-ranking commander for the Federation soldiers stationed in a large portion of No Man’s Land. He was instrumental in leading the frontal assault on the Fort – which had been getting steadily worse as the years went on. Vidal was a man marked for death, and your bullet had his name carved into the silver grooves.
He was yours.
“I don’t like your tone, Princess,” Keegan hisses down at you, but his intimidation tactics don’t work. He was large, sure, with a gargantuan build that made your shoulders square, but the anger in your blood pumped with vengeance, “I’m in command of the mission, don’t go mixing it around. You listen to me.”
“Not when Teo was right fucking in front of me,” Your head whips to the side, hands clenched as you point a single finger into the man’s chest. The two of you were so close you could feel his gear brush against yours when he breathed. Inside your form, your pulse sings, “If you hadn't fired that shot all of this would have been finished. Now,” You lower your voice as his enraged eyes bore into you, “He’s off in the damn wind. We’ll never get an opportunity like that again.”
“Back up.” Keegan stands straighter, arms falling to his sides, and at that moment a sliver of hesitance makes its way into your heart as his shadow looms over you, “Now. Before you do something you’ll regret.”
Clenching your jaw, your finger falls. No matter how pissed off you were at the Ghost, one thing he said was right. Keegan was in control of this mission – technically he was your superior at the moment. You should listen to him.
Listen? Your eyes flash, Like he listened to me? I told him to not fire while I lined my scope up…Why the hell did he do that?
“The sooner you’re out of my life,” Growling, you stare deep into Keegan’s eyes and only slightly shiver at the intensity. You could feel his breath coming out in strained puffs, wafting over your face, “The better. This is on you…All of my goddamn work down the drain…”
Jerking back as you grumble the last sentence under your breath, you storm past the Ghost’s stone-still figure and enter the cockpit, feeling his locked gaze on you the entire time. You slam the door shut, only serving to make the pilots snap their attention to you, mouths slack and optics wide.
“What?” You growl, glaring and practically releasing steam out of your ears. Damn that man and his stupidly handsome face…What?
The pilots quickly stutter back to their controls, backs straight, and heads forward.
Blinking, you scrunch your lips; your sense coming back to you as your shoulders deflate.
“Fuck,” Grumbling, you bring your hands up and place them on top of your head, lacing the fingers together as your elbows stick out. You glance remorsefully at the two stiff profiles, “Sorry, boys. Long day.”
Elias was going to lecture you again.
He always did when you and Keegan got into fights – they were becoming more and more recent in the past few months. From common disagreements about misplaced knives or weapons to full-blown yelling matches over accidents on missions, the recurring bouts of thrown words never seemed to end.
You were so incredibly sick of it.
Why were you always fighting with him? Why did every action strike you in the heart like a blade? You were always tense around Keegan, sending sharp glances at him every time he was in the vicinity and sharper words a second later. He did the same in return, it wasn’t like this was one-sided. The man was determined to push every button in the book, and damn it if you didn’t do that as well.
Keegan was a man on a high horse; arrogant, hard-headed, rude, and held authority like a stick you could beat someone over the head with. He demanded utter perfection.
Sighing violently, you lean back against the door and shove your palms into your eye sockets; head tilting back to rest on the cool metal and soothe the growing headache.
The problem was, most of the time the man was right when he told you something – whether work-related or not.
“Tango to the left – weapons hot.”
“Contact Scarecrow, Exfil in five. We have a group just above the pharmacy building.”
“West, Kid. Snipers scope, take ‘em down.”
No Man’s Land was supposed to be your playground and all of a sudden some other kid comes along; starts throwing rocks at the equipment with a damn painted balaclava over his face. You didn’t want someone telling you how to do your job.
Frowning, your teeth nash in annoyance.
This flight back to Santa Monica couldn't end soon enough, and now you had months of Recon intel sitting in your office to throw into the trash.
—
You grabbed at the pinned-up files with paper-cut fingertips, looking over the contents before frowning. Tossing them to the side, your ears twitch at the flopping sound of them flying into the garbage bin at your feet.
The bulletin board was bare of all the red yarn, maps, and intel that you had once hung up with pride. Vidal Teo was gone, and just so the board was once more empty. It was hard not to feel cheated, angry, but maybe a part of you felt emptiness as well.
All of that work… just for one shot to mess it up. And the bullet wasn’t even from your own gun.
“I swear,” You whisper, itching at your nose, “If I ever get up on a team with him again…”
Trailing off, your legs shift and carry you to your desk where you throw yourself down into the chair. Thoughts of Keegan made your brain race, mind going to try and understand why. Even if you didn’t like the man, at least on the surface, you still respected him.
So, why? None of it made sense. Why fire off into the city at an unidentified target and send Teo rushing for cover? Why not explain to you what had happened when you were back on the plane? If he had made a mistake and admitted that, you would have accepted it… eventually, of course, but you still would have accepted it regardless. You would have had to.
Licking your lips, you tap your knuckles onto the metal of your desk, playing a long-forgotten tune. You never heard the door open.
“Heard the Op didn’t go as planned, but at least the two of you didn’t kill each other. I’d have a helluva a lot of paperwork to do if you put a bullet in his ass,” Sitting up straighter your head snaps to the open doorway, seeing the stocky stature of Thomas Merrick with his arms crossed over his chest, “Still, though, heard ya’ nearly made those pilots piss their pants when you yelled at ‘em.”
“Merrick,” You groan out, tipping your head past the chair’s backing, your neck digging into the wood, “You’re acting like I try to be a bitch.”
“Are you not,” When you glare at him, the man’s dark eyebrow raises slightly, “Because you’re failing at it – often. Elias’s at the end of his rope with you two.”
Grumbling, your nose scrunches, lips pulling back in a small snarl.
“It’s not my fault. Keegan hates me just the same.”
“That any excuse to yell at a superior?” Merrick sighs, shaking his bald head and walking forward, “Thought I trained you better than that?”
Your eyes flicker to his own, but seeing the blatant disappointment in them, you find it better to look at the empty bulletin board. Swallowing stiffly, your feet shuffle on the floor.
“Look at all my work, Thomas,” Shoving yourself to your feet, you walk to the small garbage bin and pick it up; holding it aloft, you watch the Ghost’s Field Officer's lips thin. There was a mass amount of wasted paper, pictures, and yarn that caught his eye. You go and slam it onto your desk, hearing the clatter as the pencil holder falls to its side, “Wasted. Because of one man’s actions – how many people are going to die now because I couldn’t make the shot? Ten, twenty, thirty…?”
“Kid–” Merrick begins, but you cut him off – still angry at Keegan and trying to strangle down the guilt of pushing it onto Thomas.
“If you don’t mind, Merrick, I have a shit-ton of reports to sign and no time to do them,” Once more flopping back into your chair, you rub your hands over your face and feel the skin pull. If you were anyone other than yourself, you would be getting a reprimand for interrupting a superior like that but Merrick was something of a friend to you.
Closing your eyes, you let the darkness behind your lids flood you as you take a deep breath.
The Ghost leaves after a moment without noise or a sound of encouragement, but that was just how he was. You feel his dark eyes on you, lingering, before he closes the door behind him and stalks away.
Finally left alone in silence, you let your thoughts run to try and answer the age-old question that ravaged your mind.
“What happened to make us like this?” You whisper, hands falling to your lap as you stare off into the distance with blank eyes.
You had never given it much thought – sometimes people just didn’t like each other. Ingrained enemies written into the annals of time and cursed to forever be at each other's throats like rabid animals. But then you realized that this wasn’t high school and you were an adult living in a fucked up world full of death and war. Coworkers no longer had the privilege to talk shit about the other behind their backs or not communicate their problems; being out in No Man’s Land forced people to compromise and work together like a well-oiled machine.
And well-oiled was not the way to describe yours and Keegan's relationship…more like a run-down and rusty car that screams every time you turn the key; practically begging someone to put it out of its misery.
Blinking, you realize, perhaps for the first time, how much of a problem this predicament with Keegan really was.
This could kill us both.
All of this began, you knew, a long time back, and, as it usually did, it had started out beyond the Fort before bleeding back into the ramshackle place you called home. The both of you were enemies far longer than you had been friends.
Your body was hot, sweat dripping down your temple and slipping the expanse of your chin, but still, you stood outside Elias Walker’s door with a tense jaw; fingers itching to rip into Keegan’s flesh. They were speaking inside, their voices hushed as your boots pooled mud and dirt onto the floor like a brand.
“She…went over the ridge?” Elias asks, voice deep, “And she’s alive?”
“Hm,” Keegan makes a savage noise in the back of his throat, and you have to hide your panting breaths to hear it. The damn bastard was always so silent any sound would perk your ears, even if they were ringing with reverberations of spent bullets.
“Then I don’t exactly see what the problem is, Keegan.”
A pause.
“...She’s impulsive. Combative. Doesn’t listen,” There was an inhaled breath, and you feel your face burn at the profound gravel-toned words, lungs making your chest tighten as they zip closed as a bag would. But those next comments make you growl in the back of your throat, rage like fire in your heart, “I don’t want her. Kid’ll get the people she’s placed with killed if she’s allowed to do that again!”
A sigh through the shocked silence.
“Then what do you suggest I do? She’s a valuable asset, I can’t just ground her – the Recon work she does is vital to finding Federation strongholds.”
“I don’t care what you do with her, Elias. Just keep her far away from me and the boys. Kid’s not my problem. Never want her to be again.”
Whatever harsh words are uttered next are lost to you, because your legs are already carrying you down the corridor with brimming tears stuck in the corners of your eyes.
It was more the way he said it than the contents of the clipped sentences. Like you were less than him, pathetic, and unworthy. Nothing more than a rookie holding a gun and parading off into the wilderness to have a good time. That was what wrecked you.
The next time you saw Keegan it was only narrowed glances and clenched fists; terse words. When you snapped at him for the first time, you swear his eyes slightly widened, cold blue one second then boiling bright the next.
You liked that look on him – shocked into a different type of silence. A type of anger you could meet head-on.
Fighting with Keegan soon became too addicting to ignore, a constant activity that never changed like the destroyed world always did. A failsafe at the end of the day.
The anger had never dimmed, infecting you like a poisoned worm stuck in your veins and weaseling its way to your heart. It had only grown the longer you let it sit, and at the end of the day, you festered over the image of the Ghost’s face with his eyes digging into your skin. You stayed awake at night mulling over the arguments, taking the insults and words like bullet wounds to your heart with barely restrained tears; feeling guilty because you threw some back as well.
But what hurt you the most was that, before the hushed meeting in Elias’s office, you had looked up to him. To Keegan. Perhaps you had even enjoyed his quiet company at one point when the loneliness of No Man’s Land got to you. The terrain was incredibly quiet in between the violent hails of gunfire and, on occasion, it would make paranoia infect your bones like a cancer; producing shaking limbs and tense fingers. When Keegan was with you…you hated to admit this, but he made the silence better. More survivable compared to when you were alone doing Recon with only a gun and a combat knife as deadly companions.
Your narrowed lids flicker to the trash bin on the desk.
There was still a small pinch of anger – resentment for the waste and for words spoken in haste – but your mind pulsed to find an explanation. A reason.
There must be a reason that Keegan would fire off a shot into the city prematurely…obviously it was to hit a target, but why? And why hadn’t he told you the reason?
I’m gonna rip my head apart if I keep thinking this over, You warn yourself, huffing under your breath.
You had reports to write up – tell of your failure to kill Vidal Teo and how many lives that will ultimately cost in the future. While you were stuck with a pen in your hand, scribbling away even as the sun had set outside, you had no idea of the stare-down going on in Elias’s office one floor up.
—
Elias’s eyes are sharp, a wave of dark anger deep in the iris as he stands with his arms crossed behind his desk, “Why’d you fire?”
Keegan's feet are shoulder length apart and his arms are clenched behind his back, spine straight; a deep tension lives in the thick air, bearing down weight on the men. The Ghost was still in his gear, the balaclava and black face paint in all its glory situated over his head. That was his best form of armor, allowing him to hide the deep sneer over his cruelly scared lips.
“Tango. Off in the next building,” Keegan’s voice was low, harsh, and cut to a point. He didn’t want to be there – there were many more important things to be done than getting a lecture like a five-year-old.
His sniper rifle needed cleaning, rookies needed to be disciplined, and the treadmills were calling his name. He had to work off all the bullshit in his head.
“The Girl had the shot. Vidal Teo needed to die, Russ – she knew that well enough. I want an explanation as to why a high-priority target is still up and walking.”
The silent beast of a man keeps his body still, even if his head is pounding. Hot adrenaline was still in his veins from how you were yelling at him in the Sherpa, the memory of your rage-twisted face burning into the back of his eyes. He had never seen you that angry before; shaking with the need to release your displeasure onto him. It had slightly taken him aback.
Fighting with you was predictable. You’d both throw insults, get into each other's faces and cruelly break down each other's psyche piece by piece – the man knew what to say and where the unspoken line was just as you did. Fighting was easier than admitting there was something deeper going on, something that you two were hesitant to even speak of.
But, hell, you had never gotten that upset at him previously. And, problem was, even if he wanted to deny it, Keegan knew he fucked up. Bad.
There wasn’t a way in hell that he was going to tell you that, though. He wasn’t going to tell you that his finger had moved before his mind could, pulling down on the hair-trigger of his prized rifle like a fucking novice. Even now self-resentment was worming into him.
He had never felt that to this degree before. He didn’t like it – couldn’t afford to acknowledge it.
What gave you the right to provoke those emotions from him? Maybe I need to ask to have her transferred. Brat’s messin’ with my head.
“Miscalculation. Won’t happen again.” His feet shuffle, boots shifting silently over the floor like that of his title. Miscalculation – he doesn’t make those. Never had after ODIN hit the US. There wasn’t any room for them.
Keegan was a master of taking lives with a swift movement and a pull of a trigger; no one had ever known him to be reckless.
They had you for that.
Elias narrowed his eyes, head tilting, as a tightness is seen rippling through his jaw, “You’re going to have to lie better than that, Son.”
Keegan stilled, dead eyes boring into the other man’s. The sharp blue deepens, darkens. His shoulders set themselves, but the ingrained looseness is still there if someone looks close enough and spies it. Instinct is hard to fight.
“Elias?” He asks from behind the fabric of his face covering but utters no more.
Keegan was a man of few words – very few. Actions served him better, but in this room, there was no point to them. Walker was his superior; his Captain, but more so the closest thing to a brother Keegan would ever have. There wasn’t a choice in this, even if the men had gone through hell together as Ghosts.
“Don’t play me for a fool, Keegan,” The graying man mutters out, shaking his head and going to rest his hands on the top of his desk, “I’ve known you a long time. You don’t fuck up something like this. Never have. So don’t insult me with that half-assed answer.”
Elias pauses, sighing when Keegan just stares at him with blank, black-laced, hard eyes. The man was a damn empty slate, never moving, never giving away anything to betray his emotions.
“I want a full report on my desk in a week. I’m sure the Kid’ll have hers done in a day, but I want you to explain yourself. In detail. You hear?”
“Copy.”
“Dismissed.”
Keegan turns and leaves without another word, just a burning in his gut and a righteous sense of surety in his bloodstream. Your face slashes over his vision as he exits the room, he closes the door behind him and thumps down the halls. People move out of his way quickly, sending glances with pupils so tiny they practically disappear altogether; Keegan knew he was intimidating, especially with all his gear and smelling like gunpowder and blood. Didn’t bother him much.
It seemed like it didn’t bother you either, judging by how you were in his face screaming all the time.
Damn brat, Keegan thinks, itching at his nose bridge and sending stiff glances at the rows and rows of closed doors and windows, She doesn’t know anything.
Before long his feet had carried him down corners and hallways as his head pounded, and it wasn’t a surprise that when he shook himself out of his trance the entire make-up of the floors and walls had changed.
Wait…where was he?
His pace slows to a stop, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Where had he ended up while his mind was running at the thought of you? This had never happened before – the Ghost’s head was all out of sorts if he was talking walks around the Fort without a destination. Every action of his had a purpose, why was that now becoming anything less than fact?
Annoyance plagued him.
Sliding his eyes around, a certain office window catches his viper-like attention. It was the only one with a light still on, warm rays shining out into the hallway, and the shuffling of paper and manila folders flowing to his ears. The door was only minutely ajar, a sliver, and nothing more. About to turn around and leave the area, Keegan halts at the sound of a familiar voice grumbling. His heart jerks.
Blue eyes narrow, and that annoyance at himself grows to find an external outlet.
The hell is this Kid doin’ up so late? Doesn’t she know when lights out is? Fuck, looks like she can’t follow simple guidelines either.
With shuffling feet, he takes a step forward and has every intention to bust down the door and force you to the barracks; lecturing you on the importance of rest when he suddenly realizes something.
Why does he care if you get a good night's sleep?
Growling under his breath, he happens to get a glimpse of a moving shadow through the window that gives him pause with one gloved hand on the woodgrain of the door. If possible, he feels his body completely stop at the scene; his eyes flickering into a widened look.
And what was that tightening in his chest?
You were staring at the hung-up bulletin board, having dragged your desk chair over and situated it right in front of the bare rectangle that once held an innumerable amount of papers and information.
Keegan had seen it himself right before the mission had started. Your eyes lit up when you could tell him everything you knew about the target from his schedule to what he ate in the mornings.
Eggs with a protein bar. Two cups of milk.
You had gathered all of that info yourself – countless trips into Federation-occupied territory that left you coming back with bruises and deep lacerations. Keegan knew; he had watched you limping back through the gate with a shielded look in his eyes. But now the board was blank and useless, holding nothing but your knowledge that it was once filled with your labors.
The Ghost’s hand on the door loosens, and he takes a slow inhalation of breath as your tired eyes get glossy. When had you gotten those bags under your eyes? Keegan’s lips pull thin behind his balaclava. Had…had you always looked that tired?
Had you both really been fighting so much that he had stopped noticing the most basic parts of you that he had watched so closely before?
“I had it…” Keegan’s shoulders tense when he hears you speak, but he doesn’t move. A needle of guilt moved to dig deeper. Your hopeless sigh leaves him gritting his teeth, “Fuck.”
Digging your palms into your eyes, he watches you shake, limbs tense and hunched over nearly into a ball. He has the sudden urge to push the door open, not to scold you but to simply stand by your side. Tell you the truth.
Keegan’s eyebrows pull together, gaze flicking away from you so his brain can focus. But it was like a magnet was stuck behind his optics because it wasn’t long before his eyes flowed back to the small figure.
He stays there for a good while, watching, with a weighted chest and pounding heart. Keegan couldn’t really say what he was thinking about, but all of it certainly involved you. So why couldn’t he open the door?
When your head jerks back up, his eyes widen, body swiftly moving back.
By the time you look out the office window, his shadow is already disappearing down the hallway.
—
You nearly lose your cool when Elias tells you Keegan was accompanying you out into No Man’s Land once more. The bags under your eyes burned – weeks had passed since the fight, and you had gotten little sleep since then.
“Teo was sighted by one of the drones near an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of San Francisco. I want you and Keegan on the trail, and, hopefully,” Elias mutters as Merrick and Ajax listen in the background. Your apparent partner stands behind you, leaning back on the wall with his arms crossed, “We can put this to rest.”
Standing rail-straight, your face is twisted but you keep yourself under control. Even being in the same room with Keegan made you want to lash out. At your sides, your hands slowly clench into tight fists, and behind you, a sharp gaze digs its claws into your skull.
He’s watching you. Studying like he always does when he thinks you don’t notice.
“Sir,” You answer the older Ghosts blankly, lips stiff, “If you think that’s best.”
“I do,” Merrick raises a brow behind Elias, and you pretend not to notice as Ajax’s shoulders shake, “That going to be a problem?”
Ironically, Keegan and you both answer at the same time, a strangling silence before a snarled, “No, Sir.”
The pair of you shipped out in thirty minutes, but neither of you bothered to look at the other as you gathered supplies in the armory; grabbing magazine after magazine and strapping knives to thighs, arms padded with thick clothes and heavy black combat vests. Keegan was applying his face paint despite the dark color already stained into his eye sockets. You doubted it could come off anymore – the skin was probably so damaged by the chemicals it was pointless to try. Like some brutal birthmark. He slipped the balaclava over soon after.
The fabric covered the dark hair and strong jaw, slightly marred with stubble – long scars that grew harsher when his skin twisted; the angled lips below a sharp nose that had captured your attention the first time you had seen them. Keegan was undoubtedly handsome, carved from stone and silver – the remnants of that artistry only now glimpsed in his eyes as a cold reminder. It was funny, you thought, that someone so beautiful could be such an ass. You watched him, terse-like, and grabbed a revolver hanging from the rack, shoving it into your thigh holster.
He was acting off.
Keegan was more silent than he usually was; at this point, he would at least make a quick quip about your annoying habit of packing extra ration bars in your front pouch.
‘Gonna weigh you down, Kid, if you stuff one more of those damn things into your vest.’
But the more you sneaked glances, the more your feet started to shuffle in unease. The Ghost wouldn’t even look at you.
“You sick or something?” Your voice carries, echoing off the walls as you tighten the vest strap on your side. You had never bothered to be subtle when talking to the man – he appreciated bluntness, and that was one thing you could get behind.
“No,” Keegan slips past, suddenly colder than ever before, and disappears without another word.
Watching his back shift as he strides off, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and perhaps a bit of shock.
What the hell was that? You ask yourself, hands falling to your sides where they twitch. Keegan was damn confusing, but he had never been outright numb like that to you besides when you both first met. Your resentment flares in your breast, but with a shake of your head, you force it down. That wouldn’t help anyone, and you still wanted answers.
If this was how Keegan wanted to be then fine, you’d just have to ask Elias for his report when you got back and figure out for yourself why he had ruined the previous mission.
You grabbed a canteen of water and shuffled out the door, flicking off the light with a heavy finger and followed after the Ghost’s footsteps; dreading the Op but feeling your pulse beat at the thought of nabbing Teo once and for all.
This was ending. Today.
—
The aircraft landed just far enough away to be unseen by Federation soldiers and on the line of being annoyingly distant from the target. The hike would be through mountainous terrain – the land ravaged by the remnants of ODIN’s destruction and just beginning to heal. On top of steep cliffs, and sharp rocks, there would also be rampaging streams and thick foliage. Speaking from experience, you knew it was going to be a sweat-inducing mission…and that was before you got to the main point of it all.
Both of you disappear into the treeline after the pilot tells you the future Evac Point, hoofing it at a jog into the shadows and blending in like animals. Under your feet, the leaves crush, telling stories of where you placed your weight as the packs over your body jump with every jerk forward. Keegan takes the lead, silently expecting you to follow as your eyes stare into his back.
He still hadn’t talked to you. It made your skin crawl.
Watching his gait, you frown and clench your jaw. Why did it bother you so much? Wasn’t this what you wanted all along…for him to leave you alone?
Sighing, you hop over a downed log, seeing Keegan quickly send a look behind him at your form before snapping his head forward.
“There’s an old structure west of the Warehouse – a hunting lodge still standing from before ODIN was fired, I found it on one of my other Ops,” You call, moving faster to run side-by-side with the man. Dodging a tree, your tongue runs over your lips, “We should set up there – we’d have a clear shot.”
For a moment there was only the sound of shoved foliage, steady breaths, and clinking gear before Keegan replies.
“Affirm.”
He pulls ahead, and you’re left widely watching his shoulders, seeing the muscles under his attire ripple as they propel him faster away. Your eyelids narrow, a thin sneer flickering over your lips.
Keep your cool, You follow after, careful where you place your feet as the ground begins to ascend, If I get him in a good mood, maybe he’ll answer my questions later.
It was easier said than done, of course, and although your efforts were valiant, none of your plans to get him to speak to you landed. The hike ended with panted breaths and a setting sun, mist seeping like snakes over the rocks under your feet; the world was quiet, and try as you might you found a deep sense of loneliness in that. The pair of you were on top of a ridge, surrounded by deep green and gray. No birds sang, and no animals trampled the land – it was just the harsh wind and the creak of stretching metal from far ahead. The occasional smell of dirt that left your nose full of particles and led to coughing fits.
Perhaps Keegan had the right idea for a face covering, even if it was never intended for the reason of keeping the elements out.
The Warehouse was near a crater, one of the places ODIN had struck directly into the Earth, and teetered on the edge of oblivion as it was half-falling apart and drenched in red rust. Occasionally, as a tremor rolled through, pieces of it would fall off and slam to the ground a million miles away, deep into the crust of what was left.
Definitely a place for a safe house. No one would bother to look here unless you already knew about it or were hiding something.
Thinking to yourself, you rub the sweat off your nose with the back of your hand, eyes flickering to the hole in the Earth with shielded disgust. It had been over ten years, but the horror was still there. All of those innocent people…
“Here,” The smooth voice startles you, but your attention diverts quickly to the man at your side. His hands hold out a red cloth in his first and second fingers and pointedly avoids sneaking a peak at your shocked expression. Your mouth opens and closes, optics bouncing back and forth between the gift and the strange Ghost.
You could hear a pin drop if you had one to throw.
“The fuck are you doing?”
“Your stench is going to alert the guards – wipe yourself off. I need to repeat myself, Princess?” With an unamused face, you snatch the textile and rub it over your heated skin, reveling in the dismissal of layers of salt.
“Asshole,” You mutter, “You better not have used this before me; if I get acne I’m shaving your head in your sleep and siccing Riley on you.”
“Sounds fun. Better make sure I’m dead by the end of it.”
“Trust me, I will. I’ll make sure to chuck your body from the Fort wall, too,” Sliding past him, you toss the cloth at his chest, “Hunting lodge is this way.”
You get so close your shoulders lightly brush, and although you hate the implications, the action leaves your chest tight as you inhale his scent of blood and shrill chemicals. Clenching your jaw, you don’t take in the way his warmth floods your veins or the cold gaze that follows your back as you walk away; briefly softening around the edges like a blunt blade before being sharpened once more under stone and rock.
Hearing his feet lightly caress the ground behind you, you let out a slow breath, shoving away a branch of a low tree and peeping back. Keegan's gaze locks on your own as if he was waiting for this, and you curse not being able to see his expression – but it wasn’t like that would give away anything either. The Ghost was blank, much like the bulletin board had been when you ripped your work from it.
Raising a dark brow, the man grunts under his breath in question as his large shadow leeks over your form.
“Nothin,’” You mutter and turn back, fixing the strap of your rifle and side step a piece of cut wood, looking like it was the remains of a windowsill that had been broken during the shockwave and flung from a house, “Thanks for the rag. Even if it did smell like Gun Oil.”
Blinking down at the forgotten object, your arms push through one more set of fauna and huff when you lay eyes on the run-down lodge that would be Base Camp. Rushing up the decaying steps, you push the paint-peeing door open and throw your hands out.
“And here we are,” Walking with acute familiarity into the one-room area, “Home sweet home,” You nod your head to the left, where a large window gives a clear view of the Warehouse down below, “We’ll take the shot from over there, but…here…where did I…?”
Stumbling to a stop, you take one step back and ignore the narrowed eyes on your back.
“The hell you looking for, Kid?”
“Shh,” You snap your fingers at a loose board near a broken-down TV stand, “There we go!” Jogging over, you place your foot on one end of the board and grab the now-propped-up opposite side with a heavy hand. Like a teeter-totter.
Tossing the wood away, you grab the stash you had hidden years ago and hold it aloft near your head as you turn around.
Keegan watches with small eyes, head tilted, and feeling a bit curious about where this was going. What were you holding in your hand…? Was that…?
“Chocolate bars? I thought those were under strict ration laws?” His booted feet carry him closer to you and the plastic bag holding three bars of the old treat, “Damn, Kid.”
The man didn’t ask how you knew they were there – at least, yet – but he had an idea. You had logged more hours outside than anyone else besides the Ghosts, and with your affinity to keep to your own, it was only common sense that you had stashes all over California.
“Special occasion,” You mutter, opening the bag and tossing him one. Of course, he catches it, flipping it over in his hands and rubbing a thumb over the wrapper. Keegan’s eyes filter back to yours slowly, and under him, his feet shuffle to shift his weight.
“Y’know these things are probably older than Fort Santa Monica, right? It’ll give you gut rot.”
“God, I hope so,” You rip the wrapper open and snap off a piece as you hear crinkling from the other bar being opened; you toss yours into your mouth and smirk, “Maybe Ajax’ll finally lend me his alcohol stash to help me out for once. Bastard keeps making excuses.”
The bar was a bit stale if you were being honest, but it was still chocolate in your books. Stuffing the rest of it in your side pocket, you slip the rifle from around your back and head to the window, with the butt of the gun you raise it up and bring it down. A corner of the glass shatters into a million pieces, falling to the ground outside like tiny stars and reflecting the dying light.
Far below, miles away, the Warehouse seems dead to the world, but your and Keegan’s trained eyes spy the microscopic shadows in the rust-strangled metal walls, slipping past like rats over the holes and windows.
“Visual?” The man next to you asks, pulling back down his balaclava, and your ears twitch as you gaze through your scope; watching with perfected focus. Pulling back with a grunt, you flip the gun and rest the barrel against the wall, sighing.
“Negative. There won’t be until the sun sets fully,” Keegan turns to look down at you, and the fabric around his mouth shifts into a frown. You raise a brow and explain, not needing him to ask his question, “I‘ve tracked this guy like a teenager on the internet who has a crush. I know his routine. When the sun sets he checks the perimeter with two of his guards, Fabián Julieta and Santos Rosa – I have reason to believe they’re his cousins, but it’s never been confirmed.”
“You sure he’ll do that?” Keegan scoffs, looking back out and tapping his fingers over his thigh holster, “There was just an attempt on his life. Not exactly the time to follow procedure.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to leave it to fate. Plus,” You can’t help but mutter, “We wouldn’t have been in this situation if you hadn’t messed up.”
The air thickens.
Keegan’s body stills, frozen like his bones had just been covered in frost and doused in frigid waters. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch with bated breath. But he notices the trap, it seems, because his neck never enters the snare laid out. The tension that had lived over you both like a dark cloud suddenly gained lighting, quick flashes of light over the sky.
“It’ll be too dark by then,” Is his only response – even if it’s clipped and growled out like a man ready to snap. He wanted to start an argument, you could tell with growing amusement. Keegan’s arms clench at his sides into shaking fists.
“Then it’s a good thing Ghosts can see in the dark,” You smirk, tilting your head to the side and beginning to reach for the rest of the chocolate bar resting in your pocket, “Isn’t that right? Make sure not to freak out and fire at the birds–!”
The hand latches onto your shoulder before you can process the man had even moved; eyes widening to the size of plates as the pressure snaps your body to face forward. You let out a light yip as your feet drag. Despite the hold being firm, Keegan’s fingers never dig too tight.
Your eyes level on his, gazing deep into his boiling blues that shimmer the longer you stare. Had the middle always had flecks of green? Inside your chest, your heart pounds like a drum as, behind the balaclava, his jaw clenches. Keegan’s breath is like a breeze over your hair, rustling it.
“Don’t…do that,” He says slowly. You just watch, wide-eyed, “Don’t speak on shit you have no idea about.”
Whatever had made your lungs constrict fled in an instant.
“What?” Your lips twist, “You mind telling me how I’d have ‘no idea’ about an Op I was supposed to come back with a confirmation of death on?”
You shove his arm off your shoulder and hate the way the chill of the air overtakes his warmth.
Keegan’s shoulders set, “Kid, I’m ordering you to–”
“Cut the shit!” You yell, finger going to shove into his face and watching his head whip to it before wafting back to your visage. If possible his shoulders widen even farther, legs tense and straight. This was it – your confusion would go no further, you decided, “You’re going to explain all of this, Keegan–!”
“Watch the damn volume–”
“Explain why I’m out here, why you messed up the mission–!”
“Listen to me. I need you to–”
“Why my fucking work was all wasted because you pulled the damn trigger and I’m reaping the consequences like an idiot with a guy who hates my guts–!”
“There was a sniper on the roof.”
Your rampage stops just as you were about to open your mouth once more. You stare at him at the bombshell, not even able to process it for a moment. Blinking, you realize you had moved Keegan backward so his back was pressed into the opposite wall; your body was pressed tightly up next to his. With every fast breath, you could feel your chest connect with his, and your finger was still against his peck, digging into the gear.
Sucking in a quick breath, you gathered what little courage you had gained and looked up into his face with a fire lit in your blood.
“...W-what?” Keegan’s body shifts and his arms go to grab your elbows.
He doesn’t move you, just gives them a firm squeeze and explains as his heart pounds in his chest. Under the cloth, his mouth is slightly parted, and his pupils are wide.
“Federation sniper,” He utters, blinking as your face goes void of emotion, “I didn’t know if he’d seen you yet, but I…”
The Ghost trails off as his thigh brushes yours, all of the pouches uncomfortable to feel digging into his skin, but worth it if he can make this right.
“Why…Why didn’t you tell me?” You whisper out, the skin of your eyebrows moving to press the tiny hairs closer together. This changed everything, “Why did you…?”
Keegan’s face is so close to yours that he can smell your shampoo through the dark fabric over his nose, suddenly suffocating on the comfort the covering usually brought him. Why was his heart racing in his chest? You were being irresponsible, yelling like that, and stubborn, hard-headed.
But, damn, if anger wasn’t a good look on you. Your body heat was leaking into him, making him swallow heavily.
“Because…knew you’d blame yourself,” He said simply, staring at you deeply as your expression softens just as Keegan’s body does against the wall; you lean in deeper to his hold, “Just didn’t expect you to take it all so hard.”
“What? You just wanted me to let it go?” You utter, feeling and finally admitting how addicting it felt to be this close to him. For the life of you, you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. What was happening?
“Again, didn’t know you’d take it so hard,” He raises a brow, grip falling from your elbows to lightly grab your hips. You force down a shiver, veins alight with molten lava at the strange contact. The Ghost continues, “Where’d you get the idea I hated you?”
Your throat swallows down saliva, not understanding the feeling in your gut.
Shit, You think, Maybe that chocolate was bad – my head’s spinning…All I can smell is Keegan. But why am I not trying to leave?
Just a moment ago you were angry at him, but now everything made sense. A sniper, God, he could have just told you. It would have fixed a lot of things.
You mull over his question; do you answer it honestly? But for some odd reason, your mouth runs faster than your mind – it always had, and certainly always would. At least around Keegan, that is.
A breaking point had been reached, wherever you went from here was entirely up to the two of you.
“You said you didn’t want me,” The man’s breath stills, and you feel it just as you hear it; his scanning optics halt their study of your features, as if he had been seeing them for the first time in this light, “That I’d get people killed…why…why do you think I always work by myself nowadays?” Your nose begins to hurt, eyes falling to Keegan’s chest. You try to shove it down, but your hand over his vest shakes slightly. Where was this coming from? Why were you telling him this? The source of your animosity, how you two became, at least in your mind, enemies, “I just didn’t want to be a problem.”
Muttering out the last sentence, you swear Keegan’s chest hitches, heart kickstarting.
“I…” He begins after a long moment of mutually avoiding eye contact. If you look into those beautifully cold blues you might break.
But voices from below snap whatever the both of you would externally loathe but internally revel in; the longing in the two pairs of eyes is replaced by duty and unsaid words. The action was mechanical, and both parties rushed to the window, with your fingers grasping the rifle and Keegan grabbing the binoculars from his largest pouch.
Like birds of prey, the two work in such sync that others would question if they even hated each other at all – and if they had seen the scene just moments prior the thoughts of denial would have been strengthened ten-fold.
Did you hate Keegan? Or did you hate what he had done? Now really wasn’t the time to question it, but as the Ghost called out the distance and spotted Vidal Teo in pitch darkness, you can’t help but mutter, “Knew you could see in the dark, Kee,” And lined up the shot.
Your finger pulls the trigger with little more than a second thought, and your shoulder catches the recoil with a grunt leaving your lips.
“Direct hit. Target down,” A soft hand squeezes your shoulder as you watch the body drop from the scope. Grim satisfaction breeds in your heart. Your eye roves to Keegan’s face, who nods his head at you, “It was a good shot, Princess.”
Face heating, all you do is scoff, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, well…I suppose you called it.”
“Really, you can’t just take the compliment?“
“Do you want me to beat you over the head with this rifle?”
You both stand up and send coded glances to the other, and where the backhanded comments would usually be hostile, the small differences in presentation lean more toward teasing than anything.
It was…nice. Foreign, but nice.
Chuckling, you toss the rifle around your back and listen to panicked voices echoing out from the warehouse. Keegan still stands near the window, with his back to it, while you inch to the door and itch at the back of your neck. He stares at you strangely, no doubt thinking about what you had confessed prior.
He had no idea you had heard the conversation with Elias. The Ghost’s chest constricts, remembering the words he had said in concern and anger. Had you really heard all of it? That would explain the sudden cold attitude that was mirrored back to him all those months ago.
Damn, Keegan blinks, and his head tilts as you stare back at him with a questioning expression. Your face was innocent with sweaty flesh filled with dust and grime. His fingers itched to wipe away the slash of black dirt from your forehead and, against his will, his stone blue softened to water in his eye sockets.
Your lips twitch at the rare expression. You had a lot to talk about when you both get back to base.
“We should get going before–”
Glass shatters, and a loud pop like an opening soda can startles you so bad you swore your heart stopped. Two things happen in that instance that will be ingrained into your head forever, carved like a scar in the fine tissue and tender to the touch.
One, his blood splattered your face, making you blink rapidly and reel back.
Two, the sound of Keegan’s hitting the floor – deadweight – and the loud gasp that exits his mouth, all the air expelled from his lungs not allowing him to even scream.
“Keegan!” You yell, rushing over and grabbing onto his shoulders, flipping him over with a grunt and panicked breath as you brush away the crimson from your eye sockets with a fast hand, “Shit!”
His body slams once more to the old wood, this time his back now on the floor. Blood pools down from a gunshot wound over his right abdomen, and your eyes land on it immediately, lungs struggling to suck down air.
Below you, Keegan lets out a wheezing sound, arm coming half-up to clench in the space above him, shaking violently.
“Fucken’...” The man gasps, and his body jerks, trying to move despite the hole in his side. Your fingers rip open your medical pouch, eyes darting back to the window. You lightly stand up, frantic eyes darting and freezing. Spying a glint of light reflected from the moon, you quickly dip back to the floor.
Sniper scope.
Rushing to grab Keegan under the shoulders, he yells out curses as you drag him to the side and out of the line of sight of the window. Tearing out a rag and a roll of gauze from your stash, you look at his face as you shove the cloth against the leaking wound, bunching the fabric and working it into the crater.
Keegan snarls, head going back to slam to the floor as his eyes flutter. Those blues of his were wide and whizzing back and forth in a primal display, and behind the balaclava, you could see his throat bob with strangled, open-mouthed, breaths. Fuck, fuck, fuck…!
“Hey!” You shout, bringing up one hand and lightly slapping his cheek as you lean your body weight into his side. Your heart was going too fast, it was going to break out of your chest if you didn’t get a grip. But…Keegan’s blood was staining your hands; leaking down your face to drip from your chin. And the fact remained that the Federation soldiers now knew your position and were rushing to the dilapidated lodge. You needed to get him out of here, “Keep your damn eyes open – the only person who gets to kill you is me!”
“What…what the fuck, Princess?”
“You heard me!” Your body was shaking just as much as Keegans as you gnash your teeth together, “‘Doesn’t listen,’ my ass, your ears work less than mine do.”
You’re panicking; using born and breed sarcasm and clipped words to ease you back into focus.
You had to move him – had to get him out of here. But would you be able to? He was big; far larger than you and weighed twice as much in muscle alone, not to mention the gear... Your mind did the math even as you pleaded with it not to.
He would have to help you on his own if this was going to work. And that meant keeping him conscious.
Keegan lets out a loud cough, and your fingers itch to move his face-covering so he can breathe better. But you unravel the gauze instead, going to shift his body to wrap it around the rag – holding it in place.
“Gotta’ move,” He snarls at you, trying to keep the pain at bay as it sweeps over him like waves of water, in and out, in and out.
“Working on it.”
Right as you tie off a tight knot on the already bloody wrappings, the Ghost tries to get up, an arm turning to slam to the floor behind him and vibrate as he forces his weight on it. Knowing that was a bad idea but not having another choice, you loop one of his arms over your shoulders and grunt. Bearing the brunt of his weight you hold your breath and angle your feet; shoving with all of your strength and gasping out.
“What the hell do you eat, man? Rocks?” As you grip with your free hand at his limp wrist, you take a quick glance at Keegan when you don’t hear a response. When he’s up, one of your hands goes to wrap around his waist.
The man’s eyes were fluttering fast, pupils retracted in pain. The blood leaking from him stains your body as you hike his form closer to you, feeling the warmth of the flesh enter your skin like a candle’s flame.
“Keegan!” You call, shaking his body. The man lets out a low groan, sharp eyes snapping to yours. You're taken aback when you see them immediately soften as they land on your panic-laced form, “You’ve gotta help me, okay?”
Speaking slowly, you hope he listens as he blinks at the blood on your face, eyebrows tensing.
“Copy,” He mutters and sends about the closest he can to a stiff nod your way.
Immediately all weight is taken from your hold and he stumbles to stand up straight, a hand snapping to his side as his feet drag.
“Not all of it! Idiot!” Growling, you rip him back to you, hissing in disapproval as he lets out a deep curse; nearly falling into you. Forcing him forward, you go as fast as you’re able to the entrance door and already a sheen of exertion is falling over your face. How the hell is he so heavy?
“Fuckin’ confusing, Kid…Just tell me what you– what you want, I’m bleeding out here,” Keegan barks, annoyance falling from him onto you. Was it really that impossible for the two of you to get along that you were fighting while he was seeping crimson all over you? You were getting along just a second ago.
“You’re impossible, Keegan Russ,” You lock onto him in the corner of your eye as you practically drag him to the door, shoving it open with your shoulder. Your fingers dig into his side and his wrist, trying not to get distracted by the strong muscle you feel writhing under your touch. Without meaning to, your grip had gravitated under his shirt, touching bare skin littered with scars and burns – hot and pulsing with life.
Your grip goes deeper, nails creating crescent moons in his flesh as you, somehow, get him down the stairs without falling flat on your face.
Did he just shiver?
“Evac point,” Muttering to yourself, you move faster, heart beating as shouts echo out over the hills, “Shit.”
“Focus,” Keegan utters to your side, “Don’t think about it. What…what’ll happen will happen.”
“Bullshit,” You growl and glance back to see the trail of blood over the ground. Shaking your head you stumble into the treeline, mouth open to help you suck down more air into your lungs, “If you expect me to believe that, you’re a fool.”
“..Maybe,” He coughs, and you have to pause for a moment and look in concern as dark phlegm splatters to the ground. No, you think, no not yet. He can’t do this to you, “Maybe I have been.”
“What,” You attempt a wet chuckle, not liking the conversation but if it kept him awake you would entertain it, “It only took you taking a shot to the side to realize that? There’s no hope for you, Kee.”
“Like when you call me that,” Lips thinning, you work your legs faster, dodging a rock and shimmying past a tree, “Sounds nice.”
Your face heats at the shock-induced confession, breath inhaled in a sharp breath.
You look at him, only to find his eyes already locked on your visage. The unrelenting optics ripped you open with how lucid they looked, even if his mouth seemed to have lost its filter. Taking it as a good sign, you tear your head back to the front, biting into your lips as your legs shake.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” You whisper, clearing your throat as Keegan lets out a small strangled sound from the back of his mouth as you stumble over a log on the ground, “But keep talking to me, yeah?”
“I don’t hate you,” He confessed with a soft voice, “...Was jus’ worried you would hurt yourself. Too hard-headed for your own good.”
“Could say the same thing about you,” Your lungs are burning, but you remind yourself it’s not even half as much pain as Keegan is going through. He carries himself so well, even holding some of his own weight to help you. How was he even still standing? If you had gotten shot like that, you’d be screaming your head off.
He’s a Ghost, You remind yourself, They defy all laws of nature and common sense.
“I’m sorry, Kid,” That makes you stop, body halting halfway through a step as your face blanks, panting out air and eyes popping out at the weak words, “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”
Swallowing down saliva into your dry throat, your mind tells you to keep moving. The meeting in Elias’s office…he was…he was apologizing to you? Stuttering only a moment, you resume your break-neck journey with a burning face and jumping heart.
“Apology not accepted,” You growl, sending a sharp glance his way. Keegan’s eyes widen in surprise – but they look slightly buggy, “When we get back to the Fort, you’re saying it again…When you’re not getting me all covered in your fluids.”
The chuckle he lets out startles you, but you resist the urge to bring him even closer to your form and bask in his heat. He was…nice to feel against you, you admitted. Strong. Comforting in a rabid dog sort of way.
“Yeah, but you’d like…like that wouldn’t you, Princess?”
…Did he just..? When your jaw drops in shock, he lets out another gasping chuckle that divulges into a coughing fit. Getting your bearing back, you roll your eyes above the embarrassment in your blood even as your lower body pulses. Your legs shuffle as your breath goes thin.
“Let’s keep the dirty jokes under wraps, too, okay?... Who knew blood loss made you into a fucking comedian? Mr. Stand-Up over here.”
“Hm,” Keegan grunts, wheezing in a breath. You watch a dribble of blood fall from the side of his mouth with a grim face, mind running.
He can’t die, You shake with nerves and adrenaline, I won’t let him.
There was a brimming affection for the man you had been forcing down like a mouthful of food, and his drunk honestly right now was throwing you for a loop.
“I’ll get you to the Evac point, Keegan, I promise,” The shouts were getting closer, and the Ghost’s eyes were falling closed once more.
You wanted to see his face – make him stare at you.
“Know you will,” His eyes clenched closed and you felt his weight fall more over you. Groaning breathily, you take it and continue onward with little concern for how your nerves tingle, “Y’know,” The next words he says are so muffled you barely hear them, but when your brain processes the gravel and sifts through the depth of it, you feel tears wet the sides of your vision, “I think I a-actually like you, Kid.”
Keegan goes slack, and the sounds of shouting grow ever closer. It takes everything in you not to scream out.
—
He wakes up with a buzzing in his ears and a bright light assaulting his eyes. It takes Keegan a good while to fully open his eyelids, flinching as the bulbs set into the ceiling seem to only get more violent as his senses come back to him.
A groan exits his lips, and the scent of bleach and sterile air makes his head rove on the hard pillow under it.
“Well,” A masculine voice results in Keegan jolting up like he was hit with an electrical current, body spasming at him to stay still but not able to stop the ingrained instincts in his head, “Took you long enough. Ajax was just about losing his mind for one of you two to wake up. Had to order him to go run laps.”
“Merrick,” Keegan clenches his hands in pain, but his eyes fall to the man sitting in one of the visitor chairs at the door. The Medical Ward's familiar walls soon entered his sight, and ignoring the flair of agony in his bandaged side, the dark-haired man brought a hand to his face. Keegan takes a deep breath and flinches, “Explain.”
“What happened,” Standing, the stocky man cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders before glancing down to his side. Merrick points over Keegan's shoulder and nods his head, “Is that the girl dragged your limp ass all the way to the Evac point with a bullet wound in ‘er shoulder. Took out a few soldiers as well – one helluva hot exit.”
Sneaking a peak back, Keegan was stunned to find a matching hospital bed not a few feet from his own, a rack for a curtain drawn back to allow a view of a woman asleep; her right arm was in a sling and heavily bandaged, the covers pulled back to her midsection. You. His eyes stay locked on your form, momentarily forgetting the pulling of sutures in his side.
You had…gotten shot. Protecting him.
“How bad,” His lips move faster than his head, a trait he was beginning to pick up and associate with only you.
“You needed to go into surgery–”
“Not me,” Keegan growled, itching at the gown that had been put on him. His eyes never left you, the peaceful expression on your face he had never seen before leaving a warm feeling in his gut. With a sigh, he mutters out with a tone far softer than it had been before, “Her.”
Merrick smirks, watching the rise and fall of your chest and seeing Keegan doing the same, just far more closely.
“Prescribed pain meds and on leave for two months. It was a clean shot – lucky for her.”
Keegan nods his head stiffly, moving the pillows up on the elevated mattress and leaning back with a throaty groan.
“I’ll go tell Elias you’re awake,” Merrick swiftly turns and opens the door, but pauses in the opening. The other man watches closely with a frown. Without turning around, Thomas utters, “Kid was pretty shook up when you wouldn’t come ‘round. You should fix that.”
The Ghost disappears and closes the door behind him.
Blinking at the wooden barrier, Keegan wastes no time in pushing back the covers of his bed and pressing his feet to the floor; hissing at the chill but only running a hand through his hair in retaliation. His dark eyes watched you as he gritted his teeth at the strain in his side, the faint ripping of stitches.
The pain didn’t bother him, didn’t sway his actions. His socked feet move over the floor to stand above you. He breathes slowly, sucking down cool air as he pauses for a minute or two.
“You’re something else, Kid,” Keegan whispers, cold eyes narrowing as his thumb goes to swipe away the dirt smudge on your forehead with delicate movements. He didn’t want to wake you.
The mirror across the room shows a beast of a man carefully cleaning the face of a woman who murmurs to herself, shifting closer to the hold with a small sigh. Keegan, whose lips quirk in a small smile that pulls at scars and black, irreversible, face paint, finds the warmth in his blood addicting. His heart slowly speeds up, and although crimson was staining his bandages, he couldn’t find it in him to go back to bed.
“If you keep doing that,” Your voice snaps him out of his stupor, and his hand is snatched back to his side in an instant; feet shoulder length apart and tense, “I just might die on you.”
The light above you plays in your eyes, bouncing off the color and reflecting it directly into Keegan’s iris as the skin of your eyelids peel back. You blink up at him, vision coming back into focus as you stretch your legs out under the covers.
Sending a small smile to his blank face, you chuckle, “What?” You groan, “I was being sarcastic.”
A smirk is all you get, a slight twitching at the side of his lips at the fatigue in your tone.
“How long?” Keegan asks, raising a dark brow. Knowing what he’s asking, you scoff, face bright.
“Only about five minutes. I caught the end of Merricks conversation,” You reply.
“Hm.”
“Don’t give me that look – I’m in the room, what do you want me to do…not listen? Tch,” Your hand presses into the mattress, shoving you up.
A hand splays over your back immediately to help.
Goosebumps litter your arms as Keegan’s grip lightly digs into your gown, assisting you where your other arm can’t. Sparing him a glance, you watch with heat on your ears and neck as his attention remains solely fixated on you. Blue breaks open your skin and infects you with its chill. Liking the feel of it, you let it in and embrace it.
When you’re sitting up, silence ensues, with Keegan’s eyes studying your body as you do the same. His hand remained on your back.
Does he remember what he said? You wonder, locking on the thick wrappings under the man’s gown with a frown, Or was he too out of it?
“Feelin’ alright, Princess?” Your eyebrows raise as he tilts his head.
“I should be asking you that.”
“We both got shot,” Keegan shoots back, and the black around his eyes creases as he deadpans at you.
“You passed out – I didn’t. Don’t blame me because you decided to take a nap, Big Guy.”
“So, you’re just full of nicknames now, are you?”
“Hm,” You smirk, voice low and teasing, “Perhaps…Raccoon Eyes.”
Keegan scoffs, turning his head away in exasperation. You were both the same people from hours ago, but something felt different – the air was lighter, bordering on sacred. Looking at each other with hesitant vulnerability, hearts yearning but not quite certain where to begin. So many jagged pieces of glass to buffer out, smooth along the edges, and pray that they became mosaics of brightly colored perfection that glittered in the sunlight. But you could still slice your fingers open, despite the years of practice and knowledge of that sacred art, feel the blood splatter the table and leak into the fine lines of your palm.
But, perhaps, it was time to try.
“I guess I owe you one,” You admit awkwardly, suddenly avoiding eye contact and feeling sheepish. This was new to you, “You saved me from a sniper but I couldn’t see the one behind you.”
“You owe me twice, then,” When you send him a scalding look, he puffs out a breath to show it was a joke and continues as you roll your eyes and smile softly, “..but, uh,” Keegan clears his throat, “Don’t…worry about it, Kid,” Your eyes snap to his side profile, blinking in shock as his eyes rove the room, watching the cracks in the floors as you gape at him. Why…why did he sound like that? Like the gravel in his words had smoothed over and was suddenly a paved road with moss along the edges; gentle to the touch. And why did your heart skip a beat at it, “Forget about it.”
“...What?” Your voice is small, genuine confusion whispered out as you watch the muscles in his face move. Keegan’s jaw was clenched, his nose scrunching as he rolled it and fixed his stance. It was adorable the way he was trying not to face you.
His head turns to his gear that Merrick had placed on the large table across the room. You watch him lightly limp to it, mind still trying to think through what was going on. His shredded hand goes to the back pocket of his folded cargo pants, and your ears twitch at a crinkling nose. The Ghost pulls out an empty chocolate wrapper and you feel your heart stop all together when he holds it aloft. He shuffles back over.
“It was alright, little stale, but not bad,” Those steel blue eyes slide to yours, and your face heats; throat tightens. Since when has your pulse rampaged like that outside of a gun battle? Keegan’s lips quirk into a slow smirk at your expression, “Not bad at all. I’m sorry that I ate it all.”
You have to look away before you pass out, all confidence now gone and dignity stomped on when you realized that you liked when he looked at you with those eyes of his. Your hand clenches over the covers, finding that double meaning with brimming affection.
Oh, you just hated him…but your breath still gets stolen all the same.
“Yeah, well,” Your hand goes to scratch at the back of your neck to ground yourself, “Don’t get used to it, Kee. That bar was worth like fifty bucks if we’d have just sold it.”
You decide his laugh is better than any old chocolate bar, and that you wanted to taste it on your tongue until the very sun died out. Until your bones were bleach white from age.
There was no doubt he remembered what he had told you as you dragged him along, scared and wishing he would stay awake; that was simply judging by the sparkle in his pupil and the way he was facing you now.
Smirking, you raise a brow and grab the man by the collar of his gown.
Ah, what the hell. Better to start strong.
When you smash his lips to yours, you decide right then and there when Keegan melts into you, his hand going to grip the back of his head, that maybe being enemies wasn’t so bad at all.
#keegan p russ#keegan russ#call of duty keegan#cod fandom#cod fanfic#cod#cod ghosts#cod keegan#keegan x reader#keegan russ x reader#cod x reader#cod x you#x female reader#female reader
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You said you willing to write another part?! WELL IM ALL FOR IT!!! EREEEEEEERFFHENEN
Ok so perhaps the mother or father of Ken goes a little crazy perhaps they set reader’s home on fire. (It’s up to you if the kids are in it or not. Or perhaps you can make it where they come in one by one.) Reader could probably die from the house fire and end up in hell. Noah could’ve gotten shot while on the job and Emi could’ve gotten murdered(when she’s a tad more older of course) the family back together in hell and reader thinking she was free from Al only to fall into his arms again.
There is always going to be that one angry family member blaming reader and her kids for the death of their loved one.
IMGONNAGETYOUBACK.
[why not read the story first? 😋]
— 6 years after your husband’s passing, he decides that it’s been far too long. and, he enlists the help of a certain imp to retrieve his wife from the over-world.
hell was not all so bad. it was quite similar to the living world, only with the company of the supernatural. as soon as alastor had arrived in hell, it was quite easy to gain power— inflict terror by using their fear of dying once more and take advantage of their greed for power.
but, this was all just far too boring. killing overlords, quite repetitive. and it was so awfully dull to terrorize sinners on the streets of pentagram city. alastor wanted someone who’d fight back. alastor wanted you.
he was in hell though. was there even a way to get you? of course there is. if it was you that alastor desired so badly, it’d be you who he’d get. he’d find a way, even if he had to claw his way out of hell and drag you down to the dark depths with him.
though, it seems he wouldn’t have to. rumor has it there’s a small start up company in imp city. a company who specializes in killing humans in the over-world given pay. might as well investigate, right?
and so, alastor headed off to imp city, finding a rundown office building where this I.M.P. supposedly ran their business. and on the 7th floor (according to the sign in the elevator), he, indeed, found their headquarters.
“oh fucking finally, someone’s using the door for once!” the tall imp cursed out. “nice to meet ‘ya. i’m blitzø, the ‘o’ is silent.” he said, shaking alastor’s hand. “right, my name is alastor. pleasure to be meeting you, my good man, quite the pleasure!” he nodded assuredly as he wiped his hand on the coat. “sooo… if you’re here, you must want someone gone, hm? who is it? ex-wife? did she fuck the next door neighbor or something? c’mon, give me the all the dirty details!” blitzø asked, overwhelming him with questions.
“ah, not quite. you have a portal to the human realm, correct?” alastor asked, confirming the rumors. “yeah, if you’re thinking about going in with us, no can do.” blitzø shrugged defeatedly. “ah, no, no. just confirming the rumors.” he said. “i want you to go into the human realm, yes. and, i need you to kill my wife. i miss her dearly.” he sighed sorrowfully, despite his smile.
“yeah— see, i can’t guarantee your wife’s gonna go down here if she was some sorta saint or whatever.” blitzø said. “oh, she will most definitely go to hell, i can assure you that.” alastor grinned. despite alastor’s assurance, blitzø seemed unconvinced… “i’ll pay you handsomely.” alastor said, summoning a sum of money with a flick of his wrist. “it’s a deal! MILLIE, MOXXIE, GET YOUR ASSES HERE!” blitzø shouted out to what seemed to be a conference room. “don’t you worry, sir! we’ll make sure your wife’s down here by the end of the week!” he assured alastor cheerfully, his demeanor seemingly changing after the topic of money was brought into the conversation. “ah, very well then!” alastor grinned as he shrugged off, dropping the sum of cash by the doorstep as he left.
by the end of the week? he could wait that long.
1939, the great depression had finally passed. without alastor to provide for the family, it had been hard. but, the three of you had been able to manage. your children had grown into wonderful adults, noah taking in his widowed mother and unmarried sister along with his own family.
your daughter-in-law was simply the sweetest thing. she reminded you of your innocent self all those years ago. but, your son is better than his father. there’s no reason to worry at all.
everything was good now. everything is fine.
“ma, you okay? you hardly touched your food.” noah asked. “hm? it’s alright, dear. i’m not so hungry anyway. francesca, eat up, will you? you must nourish yourself after all.” you pushed your plate towards your daughter-in-law, pregnant with her second child. “ah, really? alright then, thank you…” she bashfully grinned, accepting your plate.
“here, darling. let me take claire to bed.” you smiled, taking your granddaughter into your arms from her high chair. “eh? you sure, momma?” noah asks. “of course i am! just eat, dear. i’ll be fine if i skip a meal or two.” you assured your son as you headed up, taking claire to her cradle upstairs.
the small thing was already drooling and passing out in her chair. she had to rest in her crib, lest she get terrible posture. you burped the tiny baby over your shoulder before lowering her down as she clings to her binky, a plush of a bunny in a pink dress.
you admired the adorable baby for a few more moments before deciding to return to your room. but, as you were doing so, a bullet pierced the window, glass shards getting all over claire. “wh…what in the world..?!” you panicked as you ran back to your granddaughter, removing the sharp shards from her soft skin.
“satan almighty, what the fuck was that moxxie?!” a voice roared from outside, in the trees..? “i’m sorry, sir— there was a child! i couldn’t hurt it just because the target was there.” the so-called moxxie reasoned. “well, good job, cause you got glass on the little shit and woke it up!” the voice huffed out.
you cooed to your granddaughter, hushing her cries and gently rubbing her wounds. and just then, these mysterious creatures hopped in from the window. “ow— fuck, thanks a lot, moxxie, you fucking cuck!” the tallest creature groaned, painfully picking out the shards of glass on his feet. the moxxie creature looked rightfully offended as he held his gun towards you.
“who are you? are you here to kill me..?” you asked, frightful for your life. “who sent you?!” you started to grow defensive. “yeah, that doesn’t matter. all that does is that someone wants you dead. so, can we skip the whole ‘begging for your life’ thing?cause that’s not working on us.” the creature shrugged.
you looked everywhere for some sort of escape route. your eyes darted everywhere, trying so desperately to find a way out of this odd situation. but, there was nothing. there was no way to win this, the only thing you could do was accept your fate.
you kissed claire one last time, laying her in her cradle with her binky once more. because— well, that was all that you could do. you went in front of the gun, and lowered yourself to your knees. and with the muzzle in physical contact with your forehead…
BAM!
you bled out on the floor.
and, when you awoke, you were in an alleyway. the sky was red, and it smelt awful. your body felt weak. you stood up, looking for any reflective surface. you didn’t know what it was, but something was off.
you searched, coming upon a window from a store. and, there it was. your new appearance. your skin shined, reflecting in the red sky. and, clinked with each step you took; porcelain. your lips were as red as blood, and you were dressed in a simple dress, befitting a woman of your time.
the bell of the store rang, a red-deer man had been exiting. he glanced at you, curious. “ehh… pardon me, sir. do i know you? your staring is making me awfully uncomfortable…” you told the man. “ah! just as i thought.” he said through a radio filter. “just as you thought..?” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“oh, darling, don’t you remember me? it’s me, your husband!” he grinned widely, taking you into his arms.
…
it all made sense now. he had paid those creatures to kill you… for his own selfish desires. from a demon such as alastor, you should have probably seen it coming.
“come along now, my love. 6 years is an awfully long time. we have a lot of catching up to do!” he pulled you along by your elbow. “and, smile, darling. you’re never fully dressed without one!” he sang out. “of course, darling…” you said as grit your teeth. the vomit you had to hold back was almost irrepressible.
and, as he dragged you along, it made you think.
was there truly a god?
a god who was merciful?
because, no merciful god would bind you with this demon in life and death.
EKKK HI!!! i acc have my own lore for wjen the children die 😋💞
— noah; age 56 (he goes to hell for his cover-up last chapter and animal cruelty) he married and had 3 kids 😋
— emilia; age 62 (she goes to hell for manipulating sm people into doing dirty work for her) she died unmarried, lowk thinking that she’d move in with her best friend despite it being controversial at the time
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hasbin alastor#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor hc#alastor headcanons#human alastor#alastor the radio demon#yandere alastor#yandere hazbin hotel#yandere
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***I'm going to apologize now this is probably a long post but I just need to vent about this masterpiece of an event!***
I can full heartedly say Glorious Masquerade is giving me life again 😌
JUST EVERYONE BEING SUPER FUNNY AND NICE TO THE MC BUT I CANNOT STOP GUSHING ABOUT EVERYTHING INVOLVING THIS EVENT!!
FIRST OF ALL, I LOVE HOW MUCH OF A SWEETHEART DEUCE IS TO US!
DEUCE SPADE IS SOMEONE EVERYONE NEEDS IN THEIR LIFE HE IS JUST ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE AND I LOVE LOVE LOVEEE HIM
*cough* *cough* Unlike ANOTHER person who is a cheeky asshole who should learn from Deuce (I’m kidding I love you too Ace you stupid bastard)
The Grim and Malleus banter back and forth is fucking hysterical from us freaking out about not knowing who Malleus was previously to messing around ITS SO GODDAMN PERFECT
AND MALLEUS BEING SO INTERESTED IN SPENDING TIME WITH US LIKE ALCHENFIENDJ I LOVE YOU MALLEUS!!
(And Grim being protective of us 🥹❤️)
And Idia trying to convince Grim to sit in his lap 😂👏🏻
SEBEK ASKING AZUL TO SIT IN HIS LAP SO HE CAN BE CLOSE TO WAKA SAMA!? CRYING AT HOW SERIOUS SEBEK WAS!
I’d like to imagine we were sandwiched between Rollo and Malleus MY GOD THE TENSION BETWEEN THEM WOULD IGNITE THE WHOLE TOWN
Also, was anyone else crying and cringing deep DEEP inside when they keep saying so many good things about “The Righteous Judge”!?!
LIKE I WAS SEETHING AT THE FACT THAT EVERYONE COMPLIMENTED HIM AND KEPT GIVING HIM PRAISE
LIKE NO GRIM YOU ARE MORE GALLANT THAN THAT CREEPY OLD MAN PLEASE DON'T SAY THAT
IF ONLY THEY KNOW WHAT THAT MAN HAD DONE I HATE HOW OFTEN THEY COMPLIMENT HIM I JUST WANNA LAUNCH MYSELF THROUGH THE GAME AND DESTROY THAT DAMN STATUE
......But at least they're giving tons of lore, easter eggs and praise for both Esmeralda and Quasimodo (BECAUSE YOU KNOW THEY ACTUALLY DESERVE IT)
But Rollo just trying to convince us that there shouldn't be magic or mages....
…..Rollo honey noooooo that’s not how I see it
I mean yes, we’ve been through so much goddamn shit with the overblotters (CROWLEY AND ALSO ADEUCE ALONG WITH GRIM, I LOVE YOU GUYS BUT LIKE WTF) but to the point of subjugating people to potentially lose their magic permanently?!
Something they’ve probably worked hard for? Nah, that’s not okay
I would love to learn more about magic anything beats the curriculum in schools here in the US
THEN SEEING HOW MALLEUS ALMOST PASSED OUT FROM THE FIRELOTUSES!? THAT HAD ME REELING LIKE MALLEUS DRACONIA HIMSELF!? LEAVE THAT MAN ALONE!!
YASSSSS SILVER AND SEBEK! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING!! MALLEUS HAS THE BEST GUARDS
BUT ONE FUCKING PART HAD ME ON MY KNEES READY TO FIGHT ROLLO!!
CARD SOLDIER!? CARD SOLDIERRRRR!?!
MY BOI IS BECOMING A MAN
MY BOI IS BECOMING A MAN
MY BOI IS BECOMING A MAN AND I CAN'T STOP BEING HAPPY FOR HIM EVEN THOUGH HE'S IN THE MIDST OF DANGER
…But anyway I’m getting psyched to see the last two parts cause this event is FULFILLING MY HAPPINESS ITS TOO MUCH
And Malleus Draconia….My sweetheart…❤️❤️❤️
AHHHHHHHHHHHHH HE IS JUST TOO MUCH I LOVE THIS MAN!!! ❤️❤️❤️
I cannot wait for the next part of the event, IM DYING TO SEE JAMIL AND RUGGIE BOND OVER USING OTHERS TO KEEP THEMSELVES SAFE!!
Now let me go daydream scenarios with all these lovable people while I wait for the next part, AND FINALLY WATCH THE FIRST PART OF STAGE IN PLAYFUL LAND! (ACE TRAPPOLA I NEED TO SEE YOUR SPOTLIGHT)
Enjoy the rest of your day, everyone~~~!!!❤️
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twst event#malleus draconia#deuce spade#ruggie bucchi#azul ashengrotto#sebek zigvolt#twst silver#silver vanrouge#twst rollo#rollo flamm#twst glorious masquerade#glorious masquerade#I DONT WANT THIS TO END#ITS SUCH A GREAT EVENT#MALLEUS DRACONIA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN#I LIKE ROLLO BUT NOT RIGHT NOW
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You should send more asks my way little man.
Figure I’d return the favor, so here’s a question for you~
When I’m giving you backshots with the intent to breed you until you’re big enough to carry a family football team, feeling every hot load shoot up into you while I fuck it deeper and ensure you’re getting more and more pregnant,
Do you want my hands gripping your waist, or your throat?
(Ps. Im dying to hear you whimper and whine on my cock 🤍🤍🤍)
Choking is in my turn-off section on my pinned, so it has to say waist.
Or maybe thighs 🤔 I was going to say stomach as a grip too but If your fucking that much cum and kids into me it would definitely be a lost cause of grip.
I'm actually pretty quiet in bed, even when I cum! But you could try to cum so much of that potent cum into me that all my brain, dick, and womb could think about was pumping out more eggs for you to violate and constantly impregnate. So I'd be cumming unabashedly loud, groaning every time you stretched out my belt line with another baby. Stomach groaning almost just as loud as I was as it was being forced to carry it all 💙
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Tangerines and deers- part 5
“Im gonna go get something.” You said, looking in Ladybugs direction.
“Do you really think that’s necessary, deer?” He asked
“I think it is. It’s what I’m best at.” You said.
“Okay, what are you guys talking about?” Tangerine said confused.
“She has a katana. She always brings it with her.” He rolled his eyes.
“That’s.. new.”
He’s never seen anyone actually fight with one.
“And if I’m dying, I’m dying with it.” You said.
“Where is it exactly? The katana?” Tangerine asked.
“Oh, I hid it. It’s stowed away safe, why?”
“Cause Lemons looking for you both.”
“Oh, got it. Well, I’m going anyways. I’ll be quick!” You said, and ran away.
Ladybug sighed and shook his head and turned back to Tangerine.
“You know what’s waiting for us in Kyoto.”
“Mm-hm.”
“We should just get off this train. Now.”
“If you think I’m stepping off this train without lemon or the case, you must be mistaken.”
“The case is in the first- class lounge. It’s behind the bar it in a trash can. It’s yours. Uh, me I’m calling deer and we’re getting off. I’m gonna go find a temple and reevaluate my choices or something.” He pulled his phone out and began to walk. But tangerine went in front of him.
“Ooh, that sounds very lovely, but here’s the deal, I still need a fall guy. Or- girl.”
“Shit.”
You came back, panting and sitting down.
“You need a fall guy.”
“Wait what?” You said, snapping your head up.
“Yeah.”
“No, I understand. I get it.”
“It’s a bit of a conundrum, cause I’m thinking, do I hand you both back in one piece or do I chop you guys up into little pieces and stuff you inside a fucking momomon doll. That’s what’s going through my head right now.”
“That’s not fair. What about the date?” You sighed.
“Oh my god. Is that seriously all you gathered from that?”
“Yeah. It definitely was.” Ladybug answered for you.
“I have an idea. Instead of giving my amazing friend and partner here to the white death, we can use the hornet as our fall guy.”
“Friend? Hey, you finally learned something from me!” Ladybug smiled.
“That’s if we can find him, which is pretty much impossible in this goddamn train!” Tangerine said, raising his voice and clearing his throat.
“You know, before us now is just a wall, but it’s an illusion, man, it’s a construct. You know, cause within that wall sits a window. A window of opportunity.”
“I think that you meant to say door. You always say door.” You said.
“Within that wall is a door.” He corrected himself.
“I’m finding it very hard to follow this story.”
“He says it all the time.” You chime in.
“My point is, that door is closing.” He kicked tangerine and he went outside.
You sighed and stood up, ladybug laughed at him.
Tangerine got up as soon as the train started moving, and he ran. Then he hopped onto the back of the train.
❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎
“Now the only question is, which one is the diesel, which one is the duck?” Lemon said as he pointed a gun at the two.
“The duck?” The girl asked.
“It’s a kids show. Thomas the train engine.” The man said.
“Close. Thomas the tank engine.” He corrected.
“Please mister. This man, he kidnapped me, and he said that he’s going to hold me for ransom.” She started crying.
“I’m sorry. I get captivated by white girl tears. Bravo. Common sense tells me that this old, shaky geezer here is the one in charge, but I’m really good at reading people, and something tells me that you are just not fucking right.”
He clicked his tongue and thought. “So.. let’s see here. I mean, I can’t shoot you both. Then I get no answers. You know what? How about this? I’m sure you’ll love this. We’re gonna play a little game. I you wanna play a game put both your hands up.”
Both of their hands were still up.
“You’re gonna close your eyes, and I’m gonna count to three. Whichever one is In charge, raise your hand, whichever one isn’t, you point at the one who is. Now if you both raise your hands or you both point at each other, I know you’re both liars and the truth ain’t in ya. And then I’ll fucking shoot you both. Ready?”
“You said you couldn’t kill us both, you’d get no answers.”
“I did say that. Didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes you gotta shoot first and come up with answers later.”
“One.”
Kimura thought back, and remembered that she had said if she didn’t answer the phone to kill his son.
“Two.”
He thought, he would do anything for Wataru.
“Three.”
He had his hand up, and the girl pointed a finger at him. He didn’t realize he had been shot, he looked down at his hand and the blood and collapsed onto the ground.
“Am I dreaming?” He asked as he saw a snake and was carried away by the two.
❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎
Tangerine struggled to stay on, but he practically hugged the glass.
❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎
Lemon and the girl had dragged him into the bathroom. He set him on the floor.
“Sorry, mate. Not your lucky day.”
He took another sip of water as the girl kept speaking, he silently hoped she would shut up.
“I have a wire in my bag, and I think that we could use it and lock the door from the outside.” She said While going through her bag.
But, as she set her bag down she must’ve forgotten to close again. Because Lemon now saw a gun in her bag. He reached into it and took it.
“It was so scary.” She said, as she tied the wire. “He said that if I didn’t do what he said, or if I yelled or anything, that he would do awful, awful things to me.”
“Then why didn’t you use this, then?” He showed her the gun.
“N-“ she struggled to find an excuse.
“Yeah, he kidnapped you and uh, gave you his gun to hold, right?”
“No, no, no. Um-“ she stood up and tried to think of something.
“Easy.” He pointed the gun at her.
“Please. I don’t know how to use a gun. I don’t know. Please.” She put her hands up.
“Fuck me. You are fucking good- you are really good. You sure you didn’t study? You’re not even afraid and your lips quivering.”
A tear came out.
“That’s a tear. That is really authentic, mate. You’re the diesel. I gotta kill ya.” He laughed.
“Please, I’m just a kid. Please.”
“How do you do that?! It’s really unbelievable!” He said as she begged.
He sighed “You are-“ He felt dizzy. He stuttered and breathed heavily.
“I got, uh… it’s fucking— you stay right there. Did you—? What the fuck is happening?” He walked back slightly “Everyone loves lemons.” Is the last thing he said, before he fell back and hit the floor.
#tangerine x reader#bullet train#bullet train x reader#aaron taylor johnson#tangerine bullet train#tangerine#aaron taylor johnson x reader
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Grim Reader here ☠️
That whole little portion where Rosie's talking about the Brass paying the men to never talk about it? I'd love to see some expansion on that. Is there anyone out of the men that actually WOULD talk about it and the Brass would try to enforce a policy of silence? Statistically speaking, there oughta be at least one man who's unafraid to speak about it, at least to Rosie and Ida. And how do the Brass respond? If he's a military man, are they trying to stifle his career because it's not a good look? Are they trying to pay him off or find ways to buy his silence? Where's the support system for this person who is so willing to talk about it but no one will listen? Just a thought haha.
Holy smokes you’re over the target.
Because, not only are the brass both angry over it and have the leverage to damage and suppress his testimony of the same, I feel that the support group is indeed non existent. Becasue who the fuck wants to bond over that? Hell no, they wanna go home and get jobs and enjoy hamburgers and marry women and have kids and never be suspected of ever being less than a man ever again.
So not only do you have the brass being pissed over this, I think his fellow servicemen would as well. Like, just shut up already so this stops being a subject, ya know?
It gets even hairier when you start digging and learning much of this abuse took place in a extortioned bartering sort of scenario, which in military jargon that immediately gets categorized as an event with a certain amount of complicity. Although we’d all recognize it for what it is, this isn’t the same as sexual favors for a nice room at the Ritz, putting yourself in a position between your men and an abuser is not an act of compliance. But try telling that to a society that doesn’t operate from the same presupposition.
Ok but who is this brave and irrepressible whistleblower? Thats a fascinating idea and im not sure i have someone I’m sold on. To be honest i can see Howard Hamilton having the guts and the moral fiber to not give a shit about the nature of things but only their wrongness or rightness. Maybe not a massive disrupter so much as just someone who won’t not say shit, even if it’s not something applicable to himself. Even if it’s about others he witnessed he cannot be bought off and will to his dying day maintain that “that shit was fucked” and say it at a squadron reunion while the clatter of cutlery comes to a dead silence and his pilot gives him those betrayed eyes from across the white table cloth.
I’m also side eyeing Crank for a similar gentle and morally driven rebellion in this way -even if it’s for the cause of others and not his own experience. But I think he’s also discreet so if the victims want it mum? He might stay mumm.
But I think we are all thinking of one guy. Already bucks the system over and over and fights from the heart and not the head, decades ahead of his time in how much emotional expression he gives and demands… John Egan may have not personally experienced a damn thing beyond a black eye but as he sees it, the men and women under him were abused, and they all belong in the same pot, don’t matter if some were attacked or others were forced to trade themselves for their due rations, that don’t matter at all. It is what it is.
And this makes it interesting to think about how the men respond to this. Because they’d want anyone else to shut up already, as mentioned, but they respect the hell out of Bucky so they’d be slower to abandon him than they would one of their own rank and file.
#grim reader#those who can#tw: sa#angst sessions apply here#blame the fact I helped a professor write a whole ass medical study on this my first year and while it was mainly Vietnam centric?? I was 🤯
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legally required to send you an ask? what if i pull a neil and lie to the fbi when they come to get me??? genuinely tho, tsc was so fucking good. jeremy and cat and lalia's dynamic has me chewing on walls, but so does the unrequited kevjean (fucked over by another pretty face??? jean teaching him french?????) and reading about the foxes's wins from jean's pov has me screaminf crying etc but I'd really love to hear if you have any theories on Jeremy's family?
Surprise I’m actually the FBI and I’m onto u now
But for real I’ve been going crazy thinking about TSC since I read it. The kevjean dynamic has me losing my mind like I got SHIVERS reading his asking Jean to teach him French. And the way my stomach FLIPPED reading “did you know I’ve never been skiing?” From Jeans POV. Puking vomitting screaming crying throwing up okay
Jeremy’s family. I have NO idea. It’s so vague they’re purely like random shots in the dark as to what it could be but here’s my thoughts as of rn:
1) Jeremy’s family are big investors in USC. It’s why he’s Captain, it’s why he has to show his face at Knox family events, public gatherings and all that, because he’s the proof that the money is worth it for the returns, and he’s the face of USC. They’re counting on his success to bring them more money.
2) Half of his family are homophobic. Maybe it’s just because he’s gay and his Political Old Money family seem to not get along with him very well that I think that, but also him bleaching his hair blond and then being unwelcome at dinners because of it. It seems like image is very important to them, and even if he’s quietly gay, dying his hair could be perceived as a Gay Thing To Do. His sister says to him “you destroyed the family,” what specifically could he have done to tear his family apart? Imagine your family investing (millions maybe) into your team, your sport, and then you put their image in jeopardy for being the out and proud gay kid that creates a negative talking point. He also quickly puts his phone away when he realises his sister is around which feels like a gay kid hiding from his family thing to do.
3) the banquet im at a loss for to be honest. I’ve been trying to rack my brain around what could’ve happened, but what we do know is a) whatever happened at the banquet tore their family apart b) his sister pretends Exy doesn’t exist because of it c) she’s never forgiven him for it. Gay Trauma brain of mine says maybe he took a man as his date and it caused a lot of problems in his home life, maybe they asked him not to and he said fuck you and did it anyway. But would that really destroy his family? The therapist thing too. Fight back against what???
4) there’s obviously some weird relationship problems in his family too. Doesn’t like to be called Knox, says his grandfather is not his grandfather, avoids his brother like the plague. The only person he seems to talk to is the butler. His sister barely regards him as well. He feels like the black sheep but I don’t know why!!! Also at some point it’s mentioned (I’m pretty sure anyway) that he doesn’t seem to be getting much in terms of monetary handouts from his family so he’s potentially having Allison type problems where he’s lost his inheritance or cut out of his grandfathers will or SOMETHING. He feels like the disappointment of his family but I can’t place my finger on why other than the fact that he’s gay. I don’t know. I’m going CRAZY not knowing tho.
Jeremy is fascinating me and it’s infuriating that I don’t know more. I know it’ll make the reveal in TCS2 much sweeter but damn can I pls get a little crumb of his backstory? His trauma? Just a little bit?
Anyways this an incoherent jumbled mess of thoughts about Jeremy but I am SO curious about his family. The banquet especially because it’s pretty intense, or seems to be at least from that little paragraph about it. I would die for you Jeremy Knox just tell me everything first pls!!!!!
#Jeremy!!!!! my boy!!!! my gay boy!!!!!!!!!!#he’s too happy! I have to know why!!!!!#tsc#tsc spoilers#Jeremy Knox
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My King Will Be Kind Chapter 7 / Kendall Roy x OC
an: YALL ITS BEEN A MIN! my bad!!! ive just been doing my thang and honestly fell out of love with this story for a sec. i had to rewatch some episodes of s4 to get myself back into it and here we are! this chapter is a bit of a filler, as next chapter is going to be Living Plus which should be a shitshow lmao. PLEASE enjoy and lmk what u think! i love getting your messages it literally makes my day!
tw: mentions of death, cursing
Even when the first season of Delirium came out and was trending on every platform, Stella was still flying mostly under the radar. Sure, she had her fans, but the hype around her was nothing like it was now.
Stella had given up on Twitter, as the reactions to her and Kendall were not so great. People either had no fucking idea who she was or were completely disappointed in her choice in men.
im not gonna lie idk who tf stella allen is
Stella...girl...kendall roy...?
E! News even did a segment on her a few nights ago.
"Who is Kendall Roy's new girlfriend?" The peppy anchor said. "Well I've got you covered, folks!"
Some of Stella's scenes from Delirium flashed across the screen. They even had a blurry pap picture from the wedding to complete the package.
After the segment, her mother called her, almost in tears.
"Stelly, baby, what have you gotten yourself into?" She asked.
"Everything's fine, Mom, please don't worry."
"I don't want you involved with that family. Your dad hated ATN, remember? And that guy...how old is he?"
She cringed. "I know, I know."
"I thought you liked that boy from the movie?" Her mother mentioned.
"You mean Damien?" Damien was a costar who she went on two dates with over a year ago. she knew her mom wanted the best for her, but that had been over.
"He was such a nice boy. Why don't you call him?"
"He broke up with me, remember?"
"Oh." She thought for a moment. "What about--"
"I like Kendall, Mom."
"Really, babes?"
"Yeah..." Stella paused. "I mean, he's actually a really good guy."
"I'm sure he is, but doesn't he have kids? Doesn't he have an addiction problem? Are you really ready to deal with all that?"
"He's clean now, he told me."
"Isn't that what every addict says?"
"He barely has time to use, Mom, he's so busy."
"How does he make time for you, then?"
Stella thought for a moment. To be honest, she didn't know how to answer her mother's question. Things were hectic, to say the least, for the Roy's right now.
As she sat in her apartment, scrolling through Twitter and defending herself against her mother, Kendall was at his father's wake. He had invited her to go with him, but warned that all of his family and company would be there.
"It's gonna be a fucking fuckfest." He had told her.
Though meeting Shiv was definitely on her radar, Stella couldn't bring herself to go. It wasn't even really a wake, it was more like a business meeting in a dead man's penthouse. There wasn't a place for her there, and she didn't want one. Kendall didn't seem disappointed, as there were other things on his mind. Neither of them wanted to be questioned by his family when there were important decisions to be made.
"It's going to be tough, Mom, but I like him. It'll be okay."
----------------------------------
It was later that night when Kendall appeared on Stella' doorstep again. They had been texting every day, but with Logan dying, Kendall and his siblings were busy. It almost felt like things were back to normal, if it weren't for the thousands of tweets about their relationship. She thought that Logan's death would have surpassed them in the news, but it only intensified the spotlight on her and Kendall.
Again, it was late at night when Kendall called her, saying he was at the front door. This time Stella was more prepared, as she was still up doing work. Still, she was eating cold pizza out of the box and wearing a big t-shirt and shorts when he called.
"You need to stop doing this." She teased, opening the door for him.
He was quiet as he stepped into the threshold of her tiny apartment. For once, he had nothing to say to her as he entered.
"What's up? How was the wake?" She ran her hands down his arms, genuinely concerned about his mood.
"It's--" He started. "It's me."
"What do you mean, baby?"
"It's me. I'm...I'm CEO. Me and Rome, we're gonna do it but it's me, mostly."
Stella's jaw dropped. Sure, she was used to having Kendall as COO of WayStar, but CEO? This was on a whole different level.
"You're what?"
"I'm the fucking CEO." He said, looking at her, his hazel eyes brimming with tears.
"You're the fucking CEO."
"Yeah."
Stella threw her arms around him. Though it was a bit of a shock, she knew that CEO was Kendall's dream. He worked his entire life to be in this position and he was finally getting to it. He returned the hug, picking her up.
"H-how did this even happen?"
"Dad wrote it down. Before he died. The board still has to decide, and the GoJo deal is still there, but for now, yeah, I'm it."
"Oh my God. That's insane."
"I know. Fuck."
"What have you done to celebrate?" She asked.
"Well, I just got out of the wake." He sat down on her couch. "I came right here."
Stella's heart soared. It made her incredibly happy that Kendall wanted to share this news with her first. She sat down next to him, trying to ignore the pizza crusts on the table next to them.
"Well what do you want to do?" She genuinely meant it, not in a sexual way.
"Honestly, I just really need to sleep. I, uh, have to be in the office tomorrow at eight."
"Oh, shit, okay."
"It's okay. I wanted to see you before the shit show starts tomorrow."
"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you want, but I don't want to keep you."
"No, no." He pulled her into him. "You're stuck with me."
"In that case..." She kissed him softly. "Do you wanna smoke some weed?" Stella nodded towards the pipe on her endtable. There was a half-smoked bowl inside already.
Kendall smiled, "I think you read my mind, pretty girl."
She laughed, trying to reach the pipe while still in his grasp. Her hands reached the bowl and Kendall magically produced a lighter.
They sat across from each other on the couch, Stella handing the pipe to Kendall.
"You first, Mr. CEO." She giggled when a giant smile spread across his face.
He thanked her, taking the bowl and lighting it.
"Wait," Kendall said. "Won't this set off the alarm?"
"Oh, they're broken, don't worry." Stella laughed.
He nodded, lighting the pipe and inhaling.
---------------------------------------
After twenty minutes and a few too many puffs later, Stella was curled into Kendall's arms on her tiny couch.
"The wedding was nice, you know." She whispered into the cold morning air.
"I'm sure it was. Con planned the whole thing."
"It was beautiful. Even the loony cake."
Kendall chuckled. "I'm glad you stayed. It says a lot about you."
"I love family. And I love weddings."
"You want a big wedding, Stella girl?" He said, weed clouding their minds.
"Yeah." She said, eyes glazed over. "I want a huge ring too. You think you can do that, Ken?"
"Definitely." He smiled, secretly promising to himself that he would actually, one day, make that happen.
"Not a boat though. Kinda tacky."
"Anything you want, Stell."
"Think you can get both of our families to get along?"
"That, I'm not so sure about."
She was quiet for a second. As much as talking about weddings was fun, it just reminded her of her father. Who would walk her down the aisle? Who would she dance with at her first dance?
"What's on your mind?"
"Nothing, I--" She started, "I miss my Dad."
"Me too." Kendall said.
She immediately felt bad for even thinking about her own grief. Kendall's wound was still fresh while Stella had grieved over a year ago.
"What happened to him?"
"He, um, went to sleep one night and didn't wake up." Hot tears pricked at her eyes. "My mom woke up next to his body. It was like, the worst thing ever."
"I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about it right now. You're like, grieving your own loss."
"My Dad was a piece of shit." Kendall laughed. "But he was still my Dad."
"I know baby." She looked up at him, both holding back tears. "I know."
He kissed her softly. All she could see in the dark room was his face.
"I think I love you." Kendall said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
"What?" Stella sat up. She was not expecting to hear those words.
"Sorry, uh--" Kendall stuttered, and for once, he didn't really know what to say.
"You love me?"
"Yeah. I fucking do." They sat across from each other on the couch again, Stella frowning to herself.
She had no fucking idea what to say, but she knew one thing. "I love you too, Ken." Stella mirrored the goofy smile plastered on his face.
"I fucking love you, Stella girl." He kissed her face all over, pushing her down on the couch. "Let me make you mine."
She hummed as his lips traveled down her neck. "I'm yours, Kendall." Stella giggled as his cold hands reached under her shirt.
"As much as I'd like to fuck you, I really have to get some rest." He whispered, putting his head on her collarbone.
Stella nodded, knowing tomorrow was just first day as CEO and staying up late wasn't exactly the best idea. "Do you wanna stay?"
Kendall's face lit up. He nodded eagerly.
-------------------------------------
Stella was awoken the next morning by her dog growling and barking from the kitchen. He probably wanted to be taken out. She rubbed her eyes, realizing that there was barely any light coming from the curtains. It had to be four in the morning. She rolled over, expecting to find Kendall, but he was nowhere to be found.
"Ken?"
"In here!" His voice boomed from the kitchen.
Stella reluctantly got out of bed, walking to the kitchen and seeing possibly the funniest thing she had ever seen.
Kendall was sitting criss-cross on the counter, hiding away from her dog. Stella couldn't help but laugh. Her dog was less than 15 pounds and was all bark and no bite. Of course, Kendall didn't know that and probably had never been around dogs in his life.
"Ken, oh my God." She giggled, taking a picture of his scared state on top of the counter.
"He was barking at me!"
"He's a chihuahua, Kendall." Stella said as she scooped up the little dog.
"Last time I checked, chihuahuas were mean."
"Okay, true. But Kurt is a sweetie, right baby?" She kissed the dog on the forehead. "Don't be mean to mommy's friend."
"Friend?" Kendall pretended to be hurt.
"Sorry. Don't be mean to mommy's boyfriend."
Kendall got down from the counter where Stella noticed he had been trying to make coffee with her old ass coffee maker.
"Oh, God, you didn't try to make coffee, did you?"
Kendall looked at her sheepishly. "When did you get this fucking thing? 1998?"
"When I was two years old? No."
"Jesus, you're a baby." He smiled at her. The age-gap thing was kind of weird for her still, as she had never dated someone as old as Kendall.
"And you're fucking old." She said, rummaging around to make coffee for him. "This coffee isn't great, sorry."
"It's okay. I'll have Fikret get me some. He's on his way."
Stella frowned, not ready to let Kendall leave their little bubble yet. "I'm so excited for you, Mr. CEO." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "You're gonna kill it."
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No because I need to know your thoughts on Hamish RIGHT NOW.
Like, give me your live reactions I BEG OF YOU 🤣🤡
Or better yet, have your hubby play those episodes and let him react. I’m dying to know what y’all are thinking afahsjdjdkfkf
Also, that’s what you get for slandering Toby, just so you know...
Just kidding, I love you 🤍
Omg Rae I am so TORN.
On one hand, I really wanna work on my Elliot villa because I have a lot of plans laid out but… dear God Hamish needs to be fixed????
(Y’all tell me— Hamish redemption Villa fic or Elliot Villa??? Doing Elliot either which way so)
He’s so fucking rude. Get there “where are the other girls” oh ok hi how are you fuck you too????
I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was cracking some jokes at Marshall that made me laugh like the fucking CHEEK “do you wish someone’s twin was here instead of them?” HAMISH! TIME AND PLACE MAN!
The way this mf rolled into a fucking BURRITO in bed and starts a pillow fight. And I chased him. I did, im chasing tf out of him to see what happens and purely for that.
Then THIS MAN KISSES YOU WITH HIS EYES OPEN. OPPPEEEENNNN!!!! And he’s so chaotic it’s obvious the guy wants to turn you off. He’s an asshole.
So I think to myself, surely he’s into one of the girls??? NO HE WANTS TO TAKE A NAP???
Like okay yeah not everyone is a big flirt or whatever but you’re on Love Island??? Don’t you wanna talk to anyone??!!?!
God I hate this man. I miss Elliot. I want Elliot back. The only thing Hamish has right is that he wants to nap. Me too. I’ll join you— wake me up when it’s time to go back to the villa and see Elliot again.
BTW— if he IS available for me to bring back to the villa, I will bring Hamish back. I will bring him back, stick Ivy with him since Elliot is probably bringing her back. That’s what she gets. She gets Hamish. Stupid bitch.
Editing to add my husband’s reaction:
#litg#litg Hamish#Hamish SUCKS#Ha-missed opportunity#fuck this man fr#I want Elliot back#I just want my short gamer king#GOD.#wake me up with casa ends#jesslay answers#bestie rae
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Hey, I’m a transgender adult who, despite a lifetime of dysphoria and self-hatred, didn’t realise I wasn’t cis until I was in my late twenties, and then stayed in the closet for another eight years because what if I lost my husband, what if I lost my friends, what if I lost my job, what if someone threw acid in my face…
I had a mental breakdown because it was all too much but I’m still here now just a few months from my 38th birthday. My (formerly cishet) husband has stayed with me every step of the way, he tells people he’s in love with my soul so it doesn’t matter what I look like or call myself, and that two people who love each other transcends gender or labels. He proudly calls me his husband now and would defend me with his dying breath.
My family have welcomed me with open arms, my brothers just laughed and said I had always been the most macho sibling anyway, my Mum marches in her local Pride parade and knits me trans flag sweaters.
My friends say they love me even more now because I’m really me and I’m happy all the time, they don’t have to worry about me anymore and that watching me blossom and thrive has been a beautiful experience.
My work added gender neutral bathrooms and fought with HR to allow me to change my name before I had the official documentation. I work with children with learning disabilities and they have adjusted to my new name and pronouns in a way which is truly humbling, and will defend the fact that I’m ‘not a girl’ to anyone who suggests otherwise. A six year old told me that he’s going to be “a big strong man” like me one day- I’m 5’3 and weigh 130lbs. Two kids at school have come out as queer.
I don’t pass as anything, at all, but nobody who knows me has ever used the wrong pronouns or name, and has happily included me as one of the boys in everything I do- including letting me use the mens changing rooms on swimming days and inviting me to pool night and beers. Coming out has shown me that people are okay, people will care and will stand up for you.
I don’t want to take hormones for various reasons but my husband and my mum are helping me save for top surgery, which I should be able to access in a few years, and I have a strong network of supportive queer friends.
Things are tough, life fucking sucks right now, it feels like the whole world is going to shit. But if you survive, if you persevere, if you live life as your authentic self, the only thing you’ll lose is stuff that didn’t benefit you anyway. It’s cheesy to say “it gets better” but I promise, it does. Fighting all the time is hard, but it’s worth it, and you will get to a place where the suffering seems far away.
I am ALWAYS here if you need someone to talk to, feel free to message me any time. Hang in there, friend, I’m rooting for you even if it feels like no-one else is.
Love,
Arthur Xx
THIS MEANS A LOT TO ME. THANK YOU SO SO MUCH. i love hearing your story it really gives me hope,, id say more but im really tired,, but THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART.
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Hello! So to recap my day: took the dude to the doctor. He in all seriousness during HIS OWN IMPORTANT CHECK UP, asked the doctor about testicular cancer and what can happen to a person. The doctor obviously got a bit worried and started checking his test results thinking he missed something. My brother continued to ask questions about it, such as ‘how can chemo affect sex? Is chemo or radiation the same for testicular cancer as it is for other cancers?’ And so on. I am trying to intervene to stop this madness and my brother talks over me so it’s as if im not even in the room. And mid questioning, the doctor is going through the test results looking kinda more and more worried until you could actually see a lightbulb go off and he just stopped dead in his tracks and went ‘(his name), please for the love of god, tell me that this is NOT about that guy from the tv show and that you have a legitimate reason as to why you’re asking me this’ And this idiot goes ‘okay, sure…but i think we both know the truth.’ The doctor got a little angry at him and had to explain that his check up is real life and Brian’s cancer is fake and my brother actually fucking gasped! Hand on his fucking chest! And went ‘well its real to me, it literally just happened!….hey did i tell you, I got a cat named Brian?’ Then he started showing pictures of Brian the cat to the nurses and the doctor had to bribe him with a coffee (for the next check up) if he focused on and i quote ‘himself and not a version of brian human OR feline’ also keep in mind, he is wearing his Team Brian shirt while all this is happening.
ANYWAY, then we got to the vet. And for some reason i thought he got all his weird energy out of him. Wrong. We walked in and he was holding the fucking cat like a baby. Mind you he IS STILL WEARING THE FUCKING SHIRT. He explains he is there to get any type of papers he would need and shots and all that for his new cat. I’m thinking wow look at him actually acting like an adult. Just to set the scene: it’s a waiting room with a counter and there were 3 people behind it, two are standing behind the receptionist (one was the vet and the other vet tech). And theyre like helping her with the cats file she’s putting together. She asks for his info and is writing it down and then she goes ‘and the cat’s name?’ And he looks at them (while he is holding the cat like a baby) and goes ‘this sweet little baby here, is Brian’ and they all look down at the file and she goes ‘…Brian. Okay’ and then they all stop and just slowly look up and look at his shirt and he’s confused and looks down and goes ‘oh no, that’s a different Brian. *long pause* he’s also a sweet little baby…except when he’s a dick’ And I’m dying inside but i think we can all tell by now I’ve experienced worse with him. So the vet asks to go with him and we’re in his office and he casually points to the shirt while checking the cat and goes ‘so who’s that Brian?’ This man went ‘okay so. My Brian is named after my other Brian’ and the vet tech nicely goes (thinking she’s dealing with a normal person) ‘oh so is that your boyfriend?’ and he goes ‘ha, i wish. No, it’s a tv character..besides he’s already taken so not like id have a shot’ and the vet tech clearly still trying to make conversation asks him ‘what tv character is that?’ And then all hell broke loose. It was like a kid in a candy store that was on speed. In a span of 5-10 minutes, he managed to tell the entire plot of season 1-3. And then he finished it off with ‘now I’m on season 4. They just broke up…again. AND HE HAS CANCER! On his balls! That’s just cruel. And now he’s all sick and Justin is gone and I am so so so scared. Thank god, i have my other Brian’ and then the receptionist walks in with papers and no knowledge what all happened and goes ‘so Brian is now all yours to take home’ and the fucking vet goes ‘i bet you wish she was talking about the other one, huh?’ And then when we got home, he called our parents on zoom to introduce the cat and that’s also a whole other story.
Dear sweet anon! I had a few minutes between meetings today and read these messages and showed up to a meeting where I'm the boss completely laughing and with tears streaming down my face.
Your brother is doing research about testicular cancer with his actual doctor. I'm dying. This is some fanfic prep he's doing. (Also, can we discuss Brian's death wish for a cancer with a 99% survival rate? And he calls Justin dramatic!)
‘oh so is that your boyfriend?’ and he goes ‘ha, i wish. No, it’s a tv character..besides he’s already taken so not like id have a shot’
DEAD. He, too, has a crush on Gale. Lesbians and straight men, I guess!
#ask winderlylandchime#dear sweet anon#queer as folk#a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023
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what'd you think of ep 8 of the last of us. personally im dead on the floor sobbing (it's been three days and yet.)
fucking incredible!!!!!!!! I’ve seen a lot of praise for pedro in tlou (which is completely warranted because that man is a phenomenal actor and I’m SO glad he’s getting the attention and appreciation that he deserves) but jesus h christ. bella ramsey. they’d already shown how amazing an actor they are but this episode was fucking amazing. I could honestly gush about every tiny detail from them but I’d be here for hours and hours but GOD I hope they get every award possible for playing ellie because they fucking deserve it!!
one of the stand out moments for me was how they went from playing an Ellie full of rage and fear and adrenaline fucking pummelling that asshole into the ground he lay on, literal blood sweat and tears on screen, and the next minute ellie is just a child. she’s scared and alone and you can see that the second she realises joel is with her now, her entire demeanour changes and she’s a fucking kid again, holding on to her dad, trying to explain what had happened but nothing but incoherent mumbles comes out, and the way she collapses into him and sobs into his neck was just so. a complete 180 from seconds before. a completely different person. I’m in awe of bella
PLEAASSEE let me know your thoughts too!! I’m dying to hear them. I’m joining you in the sobbing pile because “I’ve got you babygirl” BROKE me
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Cracked open a word doc for this because this one is gonna be long, settle in. It might be screaming. It’s probably mostly gonna be screaming. Frankly. God. I read this for the first time at 6 am.
GOD THE CALM AFTER THE STORM THE WAY THIS STORY STARTS MAKES ME INSANE GOD THE PARALLELS??????? THE FACT THAT RIGHT FROM THE START I JUST WANTED TO SCREAM BECAUSE SCAR’S HAIR HAD LEAVES AND STICKS AND BLOOD IN IT? AHHH I do love that it took the three of them to be this beat up to actually lay it all out on the table to be honest. It’s very fitting. I do also love how they only talked about what they were supposed to talk about for like 5 minutes before completely derailing to emotionally devastate themselves and each other
Related but the fact that they never come back to grian going up against blondie on his own is so funny the man avoided so hard that he would rather tell them he killed three gods. Mood, Grian.
‘I don’t want people dying because of me’ HIT ME LIKE A SACK OF BRICKS, FYI. SCAR. SCAR. I AM HOLDING HIM BY HIS WET AND PATHETIC FACE. GOD AND IT ONLY GOT WORSE AS HE TALKED ABOUT HIS DAD, AND JUST. AHHHH.
Now. We are going to deal with the fact that Grian can SPEAK ANCIENT bc of the WATCHER BIBLE because its making me insane. He’s got two supernatural boyfriends who speak their language [and I think the fae had their own?] AND Natural and Grian just. Casually. Bc of this holy tome. Knows Ancient and didn’t even realize it was disconnected from Avian bc of the midnight alley. I’m. I am shaking him.
WE’RE ALSO GOING TO TALK ABOUT THE CHANGELING THING. ‘Don’t worry about it’ SCAR I AM GOING TO. Especially w my secret friend knowledge slkdfhs GOD. I AM WORRIED
And then the whole magic flux thing and scar’s dad dying and SCAR WATCHING HIS DAD DIE AUGH. The fact that this whole time everyone’s been saying watching a sorcerer go out isn’t pretty and somehow I didn’t properly connect the dots until the lead up to the talking about it my LITTLE HEART AH. This scene genuinely made me cry while I was reading it.
AND THEY’RE ALL HOLDING ONTO EACH OTHER YOUR HONOR GOD. THIS IS WHAT THEY DESERVE FINALLY. I AM CAPTURING THIS MOMENT IN A BOTTLE AND NEVER LETTING IT GO. MY HANDS ARE CUPPED AROUND IT SO I CAN PEEK IN AT IT AND GIGGLE AND SQUEE SOME MORE. GRIAN IS USING HIS WING AS A BLANKET. A SHIELD. A GROUNDING MECHANISM. AHHH
I love that with Scar the story always come back to not being able to make decisions for other people. It’s a cycle – Scar tries to let go of that part of himself, something happens that puts someone in danger, he clams back up but he clams up too tight and gets himself on the path to hurting himself, someone puts him on the right path – ad infimum until the cycle breaks. God. Parallels between that and Mumbo’s ‘Putting myself back out there to try and do some good – Oh god Ive fucked up and everything is bad – I need to hole myself away for decades and hide from my mistakes – the coast is clear and this time I’ll do it right’. Mwah.
Also the Dad stuff going on here. How Scar and Mumbo get either other on a deeper level because they are/were parents. They can put themselves in each others shoes in a way grian can’t [yet]. But also Grian fucking chirping and making bird noises is. So.
‘I was useless as a natural and Im useless now” right okay that’s why Scar has what I believe to be a good handful of history books ABOUT YOU AND HOW USEFUL YOU WERE EVERY STEP OF THE WAY IN YOUR LIFE okay jumbo. But god also the fact that the thing he talked about was all his friends dying in the revoltion and not his wife getting slaughtered means that is probably still locked away so tight in his lil noggin oh boy. That’s gonna rear its head hard and fast one day if I know anything about you. But also ‘a memory only he can pass on’ H I T me. Like a moving car.
And then all his kids dying lsdakg this poor dude. He just wanted a kid. [its fine hes got tubbo now] and then Anna dlgkfh lord. Mumbooooooooooo
I did notice he didn’t actually talk about Anna he just got in his head and G O D that is gonna come back to bite all of them in the ass at some point huh. Isnt it.
‘four and a half centuries is plenty of time’ NO????? FOUR AND HALF CENTURIES IS PLENTY OF TIME TO HAVE MORE TRAGEDY, SURE. SURE. RECOVERY? NO.
Also his name being Alexandre Moore is so cute and fitting for c!Mumbo wow. Mwah. AND I WANT HIM TO START INVENTING AGAIN PLEASE THE REDSTONE CONSTANTLY BUZZING IN MY HEAD BEGS FOR IT LDKSGHSD
Also grians nestmates are fucking dead aren’t they. They’re like absolutely fucking deceased in that cave huh. Bottom of the cavern, never came out? Dead. Dead dead.
But the fact that Grian talks about being chosen but he was just like a servant l;dsaghklllkdf a servant to the watchers is my guess that fucks me up so bad like he thought his life was so elevated and im never ognna forget when him and scar were talking and scar realized grian was definitely not a noble im.
And the WAY grian talks himself in circles and into corners like Scar and Mumbo’s shit is clearly emotionally devastating but they’ve clearly at least processed it somewhat but we KNOW bc we’re often is grian’s pov that he avoids even thinking about midnight alley for himself so he probably hasn’t processed anything properly and ahhhhh just the way he talks about midnight alley is so different from how scar talked about his dad or mumbo talked about his friends and family. Part of that is character difference sure but. But part of that is definitely that grian hasn’t actually processed anything isn’t it. Oh god going to the alley again is going to fuck the three of them up like crazy isn’t it.
AND THEN THE WHOLE DREAM THING ON TOP OF THAT TOO I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT GRIAN WAS ACTUALLY UNWORTHY BECAUSE IF HE WAS THEN WHY THE HELL IS HE HAVING PROPHETIC DREAMS!!! Heres a theory I just pulled out of my ass – Grian was already a watcher, he didn’t absorb a watcher soul when he killed three of them because he was already a godling. Something about the fact that he’s held onto the god soul for 2 years with basically no side effects. Somethings not adding up here. His body should be having to fight it based on how Scar is talking about it – ATHERIX I AM SHAKING YOU
GOD AND THE FACT THAT GRIAN IS THINKING OF WHEN SCAR GOT SHOT WITH WITHER BECAUSE HE KNOWS WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE WHEN SOMEONE WITHERS AND THEN ALSO THE FACT THAT HE’S THINKING ABOUT IT NOW AND THERES GOTTA BE SOME PART OF HIM PARANOID BLONDIE IS GOING TO COME BACK FOR THEM
And then the fact that Mumbo and Scar and Fate and Tying Grian back to everything good that’s happened and the way it grounds him I am shaking the bars of my enclosure like a New York sewer rat.
And the fact that theyre all sitting there realizing that Grian is now basically a ticking time bomb the same way scar is. That Mumbo is realizing sitting there that his mates, the two people he loves as deeply as he loved Anna, are ticking time bombs. That Scar who just confessed he doesn’t want people to die because of him, is now looking at his boyfriend like hes a ticking time bomb. DESPITE ALL MY RAGE I AM STILL JUST A RAT IN A CAGE. AND GRIAN DOESN’T EVEN REALLY PROCESS IT EITHER DOES HE he just files it away in his ‘Traumatic Junk’ FOLDER.
AND THEN THEY’RE GOING TO GO TO MIDNIGHT ALLEY AND GOD I CAN ALREADY FEEL THAT THIS IS GOING TO BE A DISASTER IN THE HIGHEST REGARD AND I AM SO READY.
BUT then they go to bed and mumbo has to go to bed with thew knowledge that both his mates are ticking time bombs and he doesn’t know how to stop it. I AM SHAKING YOU SO HARSHLY.
See me cracking my fingers bc I need to go to bed but I'm stubborn-
YEAH MY MANS WAS MESSED UP HJFSKJS. I mean what's a little emotional instability without Near Death Experiences to highlight what's at stake here hjgfkfd
Ah yes, avoidance. They're all very good at that. Nothing like a good Emotional Talk to distract from the fact that they'd all rather let themselves die than Inconvenience Each Other or Put Each Other In Danger hjkgfdkjfd
Look, man swerved so hard they ended up on a completely different plane. What's a little battle against Blondie when you find out you're dating a literal god-
YEAH. YEAH YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD IT WAS TO RESIST TALKING ABOUT THAT BACKSTORY I AM HFSKJKJS I WANNA HUG HIM. And today you learned something that makes this even worse heheh-
Yis, the Fae have their own language yis <3 Haha Midnight Alley speaks Avian and reads/writes Ancient. Honestly it's a miracle Grian even knows Natural. Wonder if he had to crash-course learn it in his first year out of the Alley because I highly doubt they taught it there :) hehe-
LMAAOOOO you have every right to be worried. Scar has too much faith honestly <3
This is even funnier considering I PROBABLY GAVE YOU MORE HINTS TO IT THAN ANYONE ELSE LMAAOOOO JKFSKJS good good, I was going for emotional devastation. Max angst and trauma for the little Elf man AND the readers-
YES OMG I LOVE WINGED CHARACTERS USING THEIR WINGS AS SHIELDS/BLANKETS I AM KJKFSKS I LOVE IT SO MUCH <3 They will have more days like this HOPEFULLY HAPPIER ONES JHFSJKDS-
You get it <3 I love parallels and bookends and themes. Vicious cycles that need to be broken and lessons that need to be learned and just jhfdjksk it's something I wanted to explore from the start with this story. It's all about the regrets and the fears. Mumbo learning to accept he's a Vampire and taking his place in Vampire society, Scar learning to accept that he deserves to be happy, too, and he can't make the decision for other people...... also has anyone noticed the irony in Scar? He rejects a lot of his Fae instincts and attributes because Fae magic is naturally manipulative and he doesn't want to control people, but then he tries to manipulate them anyway. Has- has anyone noticed this? I'm-
LOOK. I love that Scar and Mumbo have that Dad to Dad communication and understanding <3 And you just KNOW if Mumbo had found out about Tubbo earlier things would have been so Different jhfskj I love it. ALSO GRIAN deserves to make bird sounds sorry not sorry <3
Hahaha he sure skipped over that part :) You know. Blondie looks a LOT like her sister. I'm sure that :) won't come back to bite :) The fact that he instantly stumbled when talking about Anna dying :) The fact he froze up when Blondie got Grian :):) hehe. LOOK. LOOK. Something that KILLS me about history is that there are SO MANY LITTLE THINGS we will never know, because they weren't "important" enough to record and only the people who were there could ever pass it down. It destroys me on a deep emotional level so I knew I had to include that line somehow-
Pretty weird how all three children died huh-
cough cough anyway he will acquire children one day <3 Which sounds. Vaguely threatening but I swear it's wholesome, he becomes Dad again <3 Though the moment Tubbo realizes Mumbo has elevated to Other Father is hilariously tragic but. But. You know all about that-
Heheh :) Maybe :)
YEAH BUT ALSO THE FACT HE BOTTLED IT ALL UP AND TRIED NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT AND TOLD NO ONE HJKJKHSKJS-
The name popped into my head and I was immediately like "Yep that's it <3" HE WILL START INVENTING AGAIN I PROMISE. HE WILL REAWAKEN THE PASSION <3
:) Hahaha guess you'll have to wait for Midnight Alley to find out huh :)
Grian's life view was greatly skewed growing up, he was too young to really understand what was happening and by the time he was old enough it was just Normal to him and he felt like he owed them so much... hjfkjskd sometimes I think about that scene from Scar's perspective tbh, just listening to Grian talk about his life inside the Midnight Palace and unconsciously comparing it to your own and realizing This Is Not The Same and just jkfgdkjdk-
YEAH. They may not have recovered but they've at least processed. Grian has been avoiding this for- gee, I think in-story it's been almost 4 years now?? I know my timeline is vague as SHIT but Midnight Misunderstandings didn't happen until nearly a year after Grian met Scar, so this conversation comes roughly 4 years after Grian left Midnight Alley. That's 4 years he's been avoiding even thinking about this shit.
(quick timeline note- Tubbo turned 18 shortly after Scar met Grian; this is when Scar told Grian he has an apprentice now. Tubbo is 19 during Midnight Visit, and now Tubbo's 20th birthday is approaching- so it's been roughly 2 years since Grian met Scar and Mumbo hjkfdkj.)
Hahaha going to the Alley is. Going to uh. Be. Um. Yeah :) That is going to be Fun and I am CHOMPING to start writing it-
Haha I told you on Discord but you're paaaartially correct here, not 100% but definitely onto something :) But you know. It's interesting :) Isn't it :) that all of this stuff with the Watchers is happening now :) After Grian has Mumbo and Scar and the Coven... :) You know. Like he. Uh. Like he's fulfilled part of the Tenets to be a Watcher. :)
Grian will Always be on the lookout for Blondie now. Soft moments? He's glancing around. No more walks in the woods at 2 AM, no more dancing in the clearing, none of that. He is. Definitely worried. :)
KFSKLFJKS yesssss. Grian came into their lives and broke down Scar's walls at exactly the right moment and just. So much would be different if Grian wasn't there and if that's not Fate then idk what is hjfgdkkd-
Grian is very good at compartmentalizing. Unfortunately he's NOT good at the "get back to it later" part. This bird man. I swear-
BUT YEAH HHHJSHJ Mumbo already having to deal with and accept that Scar is basically one magic overload from his deathbed finding out Grian is one step from either Death or Immortality and just hjfdhjsjks it's scary fhjdskfds SHAKE THE BARS ON YOUR RAT CAGE HEHEH-
I WANT YOU TO KNOW. THAT I HAVE BEEN EAGERLY AWAITING MIDNIGHT ALLEY FOR NEARLY TWENTY PARTS NOW.
Hehehehehe I hope they sleep well :) I'm sure there won't be any nightmares after this :) I'm sure Mumbo will sleep just fine even knowing that both his mates could literally die any minute-
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I’m sorry but my mind has latched onto your Female Viserys AU so bad. She’s so interesting. Unlike her parents she was quiet peaceful and scholarly and yet was brave enough to go against the family ‘traditions’ and marry out but still finds herself having an affair with Daemon because who else can ‘understand’ her. The two of them would have grown up in lockstep, surviving as their family dwindled they wouldn’t be able to fully healthily separate themselves.
Otto meanwhile just constantly wants power and pride and Viserra in a way gives him both. He has a princess for a wife but also he’s married to someone he Quite Likes. This might be weird but in the show I felt kinda like he tried to live through Alicent so he could be always closer to Viserys. If he had Viserra as a wife, a deeply complicated woman who nonetheless gives him attention and care. He’d never do anything about her infidelity because whatever the fallout that would take her away from him.
and Daemon. He grew up probably with the assumption that he’d have his Valyrian bride only for his sister to marry another. Sadly her husband is fucking hard to kill so he just keeps deluding himself that they’ll be Happy Together eventually and meanwhile is Dying each time the kids call him uncle. He will be his sisters dog until the day he dies even if he causes a Lot of Problems unrelated to that because Daemon was created to cause problems.
What do you think the immediate fallout of her choosing to marry Otto would be like though? Before they have kids?
do not apologize i love that other people are into this and i Love ur thoughts about it <3
(i cut out a bunch here im gonna post separately, cause it got LONG)
i have two conflicting ideas for how the otto/viserra marriage goes down.
idea one: shotgun wedding but the bridge is holding the shotgun and the bridegroom is not the father
in this version, viserra and daemon have always been having an affair and he gets her pregnant. she loves daemon, but does not want to be his wife. so instead she goes to her boyfriend otto and rushes into a marriage with him. viserra tells daemon that the babys his though, so he doesnt do anything publicly to try and stop the marriage. trying to like, comfort him with the idea that they have this secret together now. viserra might not be willing to marry him, but shes willing to have his children, and that will always bind them together.
its only after the marriage when viserra starts to show that she claims the babys ottos, but like hes not stupid. he knows the timeline shes given him doesnt work out. (because he was a good 7 star gentleman and did not have premarital sex with her) but he loves viserra, and bringing any accusation against her children or daemon would mean losing her too. so he swallows his pride and accepts her children as his own.
after all she did marry him, so she must love him too. and her children will have his name, and its not obvious to anyone except them 3 that they are not his.
second idea: viserra marries otto the way youd rebel in an alt family by dating a nice boring button-down office worker
viserra marries otto as a way to try and reject her fate. she saw what happened to her mother, grandmother, all her aunts, and doesnt want it to happen to her. so she picks the nice steady man who will coddle her and never make her think too hard about the things shed rather not. she picks otto to reject daemon. and maybe they even drift apart for a few years, each trying to figure out who they are without the other.
but then viserra learns that they are planning to marry daemon off (maybe to aemma?) and viserra is SICK with the idea that she might loose her brother, or worse, have to share him. (either unaware or ignoring the cruel irony that this is exactly what shes doing to him) so she goes to him, starts an affair with him, and convinces him to break the betrothal. and daemon is insane enough to do it, damn the massive political fallout it causes, as long as viserra keeps letting him sleep at the foot of her bed.
but oops! the man you married to save you from a fate of being a political pawn is secretly insane and sick with ambition!
and oops! but you cant escape your family unless you are also willing to let go! and viserra has daemon in a bloody death grip and cant even entertain the idea of him not being wholly hers.
i think daemon and otto have very similar views of each other. neither of them see this relationship triangle as being a 'viserra' problem but rather the others problem. that if only the other man was gone viserra would be Free. and she could truly love and devote herself to HIM, the man she REALLY loves.
but viserra loves them both. in her own way. its not the way that they love her, but if thats the price they have to pay to be with her, then theyll grin and bear it. and just keep plotting to bring the other down. coping. deluding themselves that One Day itll all be better and they will be happy
#daemon and otto on their looney tunes shit#viserra twirling her hair around her finger like omg guys stopppp lol#female manipulator viserys#asks#my posts#viserys i targaryen#otto hightower#daemon targaryen
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