#mission failed………we’ll get em next time…..

[robyntherav3n]

so………slayer huh………………..

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

GRANDPA, explaining lab rules to MOM: Two drink limit does not mean first and last. Two drink limit does not mean two kinds of drinks. Two drink limit does not mean the drinks can be as large as you like. "No drinking of alcoholic beverages" does not imply that a jack daniels iv is acceptable.

MOM: :(

[ask-sora-aguilar]

Yes, I'm bored

*Esther tries to steal this bag*

HAH! EPIC FAILLLLLLLL!!!!!

(Esther looks SO CUTE! Omg the STORA!!!!!)

It’s beautiful! I can’t wait to see more of your drawings!!!!

💙💙💙

¡Nunca cambies! ¡¡¡¡¡¡VALES MIL!!!!!!

[barkov]

i need one of my teams to NOT flop tonight thank you

[johnny-boy-17]

My only gripe w/ ATSV: I didn’t see them anywhere.

Mission failed, we’ll get ‘em next time.

[warnersister]

Talking with your mouth shut.

König x Reader

Call of Duty x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, death, sniping, family deaths, mutism

Reader Callsign: Tasmanian ‘Devil’

(Not my gif)

When you first joined the 141 the group were all warned. Your last mission had been gruelling and painful and as a result of your trauma, you no longer spoke. This didn’t hinder your work, when they asked over the radio to check you were still okay they’d receive a moment of static or another type of noise you’d allow yourself to make, half of the time it was you knocking in morse code to confirm. When soap had asked if you’d speak to tell them if you were truly in danger, you’d just given an affirmative nod.

You spoke with your eyes. That’s what Konig had noticed. You always joined in the conversations just not with your tongue. At least that’s what he told himself when he found himself staring at you for long enough that you noticed and offered him a quizzical look with one eyebrow raised.

Konig was enamoured by you from the moment you walked through that door. And you may think that he refused to admit it - the love he held for you. But no, it was one of the very few pleasures he allowed himself. His austere and stern position towards himself simply melts away when you are near.

It wasn’t difficult to fall in love with you. Not at all. With the way your belt tightened your camos to your waist, and your black t-shirt hugging your body in all the right places, stance upright and rigid, muscles prominent enough to poke through your clothes, enough to make himself rut into his hand a lot more nights than he cared to admit. But what really enthralled him, were your eyes.

You were sleeping off the last mission when Ghost and Konig were talking about you. Ghost said your eyes scared him. “When she looks at me there’s just nothing. It’s like she’s dead behind ‘em. I wanna ask what happened, y’know?” He asked and Konig had nodded. “But then again I think that if I do ask she will drop dead.”

That’s not the look you gave him. Not at all. Every time you looked up at him they were bright and full of emotion. They could shine happily or burn with anger or roll sarcastically, but some of the time when you didn’t know he was looking, they’d be full of something he could relate to. They were full of pain and tears.

He knew you were crippled with pain. A weight heavy at your shoulders other than your gun. But like Ghost, he would never ask. If you wanted to ‘talk’ then you would. And if you never did he didn’t mind. He understood enough.

From day dot you had naturally gravitated towards Konig. The first person to never be surprised when you looked up at him and noticed his height, simply giving him a passive once-over and moving on. New mission? You were on his left. Spare time? Winning him at cards. Free night? Laid next to him looking at the stars while he pointed out constellation to you. You were always there and he was always here, ready for when you were ready to open your heart to him that he had done for you.

Tasmanian Devil was what they had named you, Devil for short. The small beasts had the same temperament that you held behind your eyes, they have a reputation for flying into a rage when threatened by a predator, fighting for a mate, or defending a meal - exactly what your bursts of rage represent. Konig liked to call you his little devil. He could tell you smiled under your mask when he said that, the only time you would.

This new mission contained teams of two. “Konig and Devil, we’ll send you to the north building, best sniping position for the house.” Konig said something and you gave a thumbs up before you turned to go get ready.

And here you were, laid on your stomachs side by side, snipers in hand and looking for the enemy target - a captain and his comrades. What they had failed to mention was that his comrades were his family. Wife and two children. A boy and a girl. The boy looked no older than eight, and his sister four. You inhaled sharply and exhaled a shaky breath, lowering your weapon. Konig lowered his slightly and turned to you, watching your eyes swell with salty tears, your eyeblack beginning to run. He had to admit, you looked gorgeous. But now wasn’t the time for that. He raised his mic so nosy ears couldn’t listen and he reached his left hand out to grab your hip and draw comforting shapes along it with his thumb. You buried your head into his neck, eyes shut tight so he couldn’t see them.

He raised his gun, grasped your waist tightly and took four shots then silence as he dropped his gun and used both hands to pull you into an embrace. He manoeuvred you to be sat in his lap and cradling you like a baby. Lowering his mic again, he spoke. “Devil got the shot. My weapon wasn’t required, over.” A voice returned. “Roger confirmation, wait at point Charlie as surveillance until further instruction. Well done Devil. Over.” “Roger, out.” Then his mic was returned above his helmet. You looked up at him, pain and questioning behind those tired eyes of yours. “Every good solider must struggle. I’ve got you meine liebe. I understand.” A loud and broken sob emitted from your throat as the first sound he had ever heard you make. He understood. He knew why you were in pain. Konig knows.

He pecked your forehead comfortingly through both of your masks as he allowed you to cry and calm down, and he loved the way you clawed at his chest and grabbed him like you needed him. Like a damsel in distress.

He never spoke of it when you got back to base and nor did your eyes. But you definitely got closer. Sometimes he liked to think that was the day you opened yourself up to him to let him love you. But those sometimes he also realised that was just his subconscious playing tricks on him.

It was loud in your head, looking at the Mountain Man. Oh how you wanted to tell him how much pain you were in, and how much he soothed it. How much you loved him. You wanted to scream it from the rooftops but your voice would not allow. Instead pleading at him with wide and desperate eyes hoping that someday he may recognise your expression and require your feelings. If only he knew.

Then the dreaded day came for Konig. The day that you would all return home to your families. The day that you would probably run into your lovers arms and leave him behind. The day the intoxicating dream he was living in would come crashing down and his heart would shatter into a million pieces. The chatter was loud on the plane, men excitedly talking about their families and their homes yet the two of you remained silent. Your hand slowly crept over to his and rested atop of his clenched fist which instantly relaxed when he felt your warming touch. His hand turned over and threaded his fingers with his own, thumb doing labs back and forth over your knuckle. He could allow himself to live in paradise just a bit longer.

Ghost shook hands with you all and exclaimed a ‘see you soon!’ as he walked over to a couple of elders and embraced the woman tightly. And slowly, everyone bid their farewells until Konig was all alone. But where did you go? He couldn’t remember seeing you leave. But then again, he was better off not having to see the man you loved. He turned to leave himself, when he stopped in his tracks. There you were, sat on a bench alone with your arms crossed and an unreadable expression covered by tears in your eyes. He slowly made his way over to you, sitting down and about to say something before you interjected.

“They are all dead, Konig.” You spoke in a small and raspy voice from lack of usage. “I’m waiting for my family to pick me up and I know they’re not coming.” His heart twanged with pain in his chest but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, too entranced by the sweet sound of you. But it hurt him how much he related. “They shot every one of them and I was the one who found them. The worst part is it was my partner who killed them.” You said with a sniff, the image you walked home into relaying in your mind. He listened to you talk, just listened. Soaking up every minute he could have hearing your siren song. “I give my life for my country and it gives me nothing back. I am alone, Konig.”

“You have me, mein liebling. You will always have me.” You were quiet again, looking up into his faithful eyes and realised what you had been missing all along. Slowly, you reached for your balaclava and pulled it up and over your head until it fell into the seat beside you. Konig couldn’t believe what he was seeing. You were beautiful. He couldn’t believe that after all this time the woman he was in love with was so gorgeous. He mirrored your actions with a shaky arm, pulling his mask off and placing it in a similar place to yours. He was waiting for your horror, a scoff from your lips, disgust in your eyes. But instead, the softened as you looked at his face, a small smile growing as you did a quick once over, hand slowly reaching out to trace a scar on his jaw as he leaned into your hand, the touch-starved man yearning for affection. He reached his hands out to your face. “You have always got me, my little devil.” And he kissed you sweetly, tongues tying as you spoke through your minds, a voice finally restored to a broken broken marionette. You realised that with Konig, you would always be okay.

[an-idiot-in-fandoms]

Theoretically [Jason Todd x Reader]

a/n: kind of doesn’t make sense but it’s cute

“Consider this,” you spoke, whilst laying on the floor, breaking the comfortable silence that had been built up over the past half an hour.

“Immediately no,” Jason denied, not even looking up from his copy of Dostoyevsky's ‘Notes From The Underground’.

“I didn’t even tell you anything!” you objected, folding your arms defensively.

“I know,” he replied, turning a page, “so I’m stopping you know. I know you’re about to say something dumb that’s gonna distract me.”

“Not everything I say is dumb.”

“Yeah you’re right; only around 92% of it is,”

“You’re so mean to me!” you turned on your side, and huffed, though you mainly did it to hide your grin. 

Your goal had been to initiate a conversation, since you really, really, really wanted to talk with him, and now you were doing so. As stupid as it sounded, you adored hearing his husky, low voice, it made you feel comforted. On the rare occasion, he’d even read to you, when he was in a good mood, and those times were a gift from skydaddy himself. 

Because you got to hear him say this aloud, from ‘A Room With A View’: “It isn’t possible to love and to part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.” And good god, your insides melted every time he said something romantic from the book like that. It made good food for your own self indulgent fantasies.

Now, time to reel him into a discussion. “So, take what I say with a grain of salt,” you granted, “y’know, seasoning is important... but not so much that it clogs your arteries.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I think we should go back to the drawing board, since I’m shit at writing, so I should try my hand at arts and crafts---”

“(Y/n), just get to the point,”

Ouch, he sounded irritated.

“Well, uh,” you stumbled, not having properly thought this through, “I think that... that...”

“Thinking is always dangerous when it’s going on in your head,” Jason snorted dismissively, “just go back to your nap and be quiet. I’m trying to get through this book.”

Hm. That didn’t go as well as you thought it would. As you rolled onto your side, so your back was facing him, you couldn’t help but feel slightly upset by his bluntness; usually he’d at least wait until you had finished explaining yourself.

Mission failed. We’ll get ‘em next time.

Another three minutes passed, in which you stewed in your own overthinking about the incident, and hugged yourself for comfort, wondering if you’d made him truly angry. You certainly hoped not, that would be the worst thing to happen to you since you had to start paying taxes. Making yourself small, you curled up, and stared at the wall, attempting to distract yourself with meaningless existential crises.

Then, “(Y/n)?” his tone was soft, somewhat concerned. “Aren’t you gonna tell me?”

You frowned, and didn’t respond, petty as ever.

Jason audibly sighed, and shut his novel, before much to your shock, you felt him get up and sit down next to you, his knees pressing against your back. “What’s wrong?” he chuckled lightly, “Usually you’re on my ass when I talk back.”

You peeked up at him curiously, to find him with a wry smile tugging at his lips, with the white streak falling over his forehead, and his teal eyes glittering with an emotion you couldn’t quite comprehend. Swallowing, you pulled yourself together, unnerved by his sudden gentleness and close proximity, “You told me to be quiet, so I’ll be quiet. Jackass,” you added stubbornly.

There was a pause, as you looked away again, and glared at the wall with a wrinkled nose of annoyance. Then, he placed a warm hand on your shoulder, and leaned down, much to your surprise. “You need to stop overthinking everything I say.”

“I don’t,” you mumbled.

“Liar,” he chided, “I can see the cogs turning in that pretty head of yours.”

(Woah, ok, uh, stay calm everyone, it’s happening.)

“Ok, sometimes I do overthink things,” you grumbled. “But how can you blame me? I don’t want you to leave me.”

His warm fingers trailed down your arm, then down to your lower stomach, before he settled his soothing grasp on in dip of your hips. “It isn't possible to love and part,” he whispered, in that angelic baritone you loved so very much. “You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.”

It was like he fucking knew you adored hearing him say that.

You gulped. “Experience? Who’s the lucky person who seduced you?”

“It’s difficult to admit it,” he confessed, “since they’re lying on the floor.”

Instantly you cracked your head around to stare at him, yet he was somehow already there, grabbing your chin, and tilting your face sideways, so Jason could press his lips to yours, hard and affirming. You breathed in so sharply that your ribcage almost broke, and you clasped his wrist in confusion; his nose pressed into your cheek, his mouth demanding and noisy, as he pushed you further and further down, till your back hit the ground. You clutched the back of his shirt to pull him down with you, causing both of you to become a puddle of icohorigable limbs, only joined together by the messy kiss you two were caught in.

You moved back, at last, breathing heavily, hot and flustered, as he towered over you, panting in equal measure. “You owe me a dinner date,” you declared shortly.

Jason laughed, “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

[matchibee]

Quit

enemies to loversish? not proofread

“You’re injured.” Miguel’s face contorted with concern as he looked at your battered state — dirt and grime sticking to you like a second skin. dried blood trailing down your face, indicating with undeniable accuracy where your injuries had been sustained.

You pushed him away, Miguel one to always do the same to you. No matter how desperately you tried to meet him halfway, he was always hesitant to establish friendship, the two of you drifting apart like leaves in the wind — a forbidden dance that mirrored the other, yet never seemed to come together. “I’ll live.”

Miguel grunted. “Obviously. You wouldn’t be here if I thought you’d die.”

The closet thing to a compliment you’d ever gotten out of him, and yet it was frame entirely like an insult, further reminding you of your place in his web of lies. A pawn in his game of chess, all his pieces on the board.

“I’m flattered.” With a hitch of your breath Miguel took hold of you, palms encapsulating your cheeks as he surveyed the damage, brows furrowing into an even deeper scowl as you winced in pain upon contact.

You pushed Miguel away, licking your thumb as you wiped away the grime that bothered you most, wiping whatever you could with the sleeve of your suit.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Miguel sighed as though you were a disruptive child, as though you were a nuisance to his very existence, a constant that didn’t cease. “You can’t go back to HQ looking like—“

“Like I failed a mission?”

He didn’t wanna say it, looking to the ground with conflict in his eyes, the very words you’d uttered raking through his mind as though reopening a new wound. It hadn’t been what he thought, not in the slightest, and the fact that your mind had drifted there nearly automatically left a pain in his chest.

You continued, throat unbearably dry. “You just don’t want them to know you made a mistake.”

“But you’re not—“ His voice trailed off, eyes turning to look anywhere except you. He feared that if your eyes met he’d say the wrong thing, perhaps reveal too much. And where would that leave him then?

Besides, Miguel didn’t care. He never did. He despised you just as you despised him, made you feel as though you were nothing in the face of his affections. He couldn’t love, refused to teach himself how to piece himself back together, and in the process any prospect of change slipped through his fingertips.

“We’ll get him ‘em time.”

“No,” You scoffed, opening up a portal with your watch, flicking the accessory off your wrist with little effort. “You’ll get ‘em next time. I quit.”

“You can’t just—“

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“I am!” Miguel’s voice grew in volume. “And as your boss, I’m telling you—!”

“Goodbye, Miguel.”

He grabbed your wrist as you dipped into the portal, half your face obscured by blinding lights as you turned back towards him. “Let go—“

“Don’t leave me.”

His eyes shimmered with your image, a radiance so ethereal he feared it be fiction, his mind blurred of all conviction. Miguel looked down at you with a pleading gaze and a heart that bled the color of your eyes. Your skin was what he saw when he closed his eyes every evening before bed, your voice like a melody a song he mumbled throughout the day.

But he hated you, despised you because no matter how badly he loathed to admit it, in another universe he’d lost you. When he first saw you in your own universe he’d been thrown in for a loop, hands oblivious of where to fall, mind begging for reason as his heart prepared to fall in love all over again.

So he did what any rational man would do, he ran. Like a thief in the night he made way with your thoughts, refusing to return them, refusing to even look in your direction.

Thought his body called your name, his heart sang a different song, one of longing and ache. An internal conflict that physically pained him, scorched his feelings of any semblance of continuity, leaving him a husk of a man that once was — a man that did not deserve to love.

You’d tried so hard to make him comfortable in your presence, rationalizing he simply needed a friend in these trying times. And in your efforts you were met with a cold shoulder, with a gaze that could kill and a voice that dripped with venom. Miguel wanted nothing to do with you, was the only voice of reason permeating through doubt, and as much as you despised to admit it, you simply knew you had no choice but to concede.

“I’m not gonna stay and let you treat me like shit. I’ve put up with more than enough of that.”

“I don’t mean it, you have to believe me. I’m so scared. Scared of who I was, scared of who I am when I’m around you.”

You shook your head, doing your best to slink further into the portal, but Miguel pulled you back as far as he could will himself, cradling you in his arms, begging the heavens not to take you away.

“I’m not who you think I am, Miguel. That person doesn’t exist anymore.”

Should he speak, Miguel might as well have been condemned. But he gave himself a final opportunity, perhaps the only opportunity.

“I don’t want that person, don’t you understand? I want you, I-I think I always have.”

The words that fell from his lips invaded your mind, kissed the very essence of your soul. But that didn’t make the way he treated you right, that didn’t mean he had any excuse for the way he tossed you aside as though you were nothing.

“I’m not the man I was. I’m broken, scared. I don’t like this feeling, this way you…” He searched his mind for the words, languages jumbling within his mind in the midst of such unrelenting emotion. “The way you make me feel isn’t like anything I’ve felt before. Not with friends, family… Not even them.” His mind drifted to you, that variant of you that he would’ve moved heaven and earth to please. But in Miguel’s heart he came to realize he would condemn creation itself, make a mockery of its efforts as he placed stars of his own design in the sky for everyone to see, stars that twinkled with the glimmer of your eyes as his pressed his lips to yours.

And when he pulled away, hands cupping your face, your injuries still on full display, he hadn’t the faintest idea what to say — what you would say in response.

“You’re broken,” You whispered, pressing your palm to his chest. “Because the multiverse took your love for granted.” Miguel wrapped his hands around your gesture, nodding his head as tears beaded in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you.”

You nodded your head. It was perfect, this wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

“I know, Miguel.”

[dinaur]

mission failed, we’ll get ‘em next time

[ilovebeingaturtle]

Mission failed, we’ll get ‘em next time 😔👊

[winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts]

Mission failed, we’ll get em next time

[amevello-blue]

*staticy noises* Yeah we got ‘em.

I’m in range now…

*gun shot noises*

*The dancing salmon falls to the floor, tranquilized*

Mission failed, we’ll get ‘‘em next time

WH- HUH--

[chazmcfreelyhater]

MSA: Naomi Arena

(In a period of particularly strong brain rot I did in fact write all of Naomi’s Dispatch Agent responses)

3 Charisma

2 Supernatural

Recruitment Message: “HIIII! I’m SO excited to uncover CRIME AND MISCONDUCT!!! LET’S GO!”

Goodbye Message: “Hey, no hard feelings! Go get ‘em, Y/N!”

(Missions are under the cut!)

Assistant Librarian:

“I hate libraries. Usually I just like to make castles out of the books and use erasers as tiny soldiers and princesses. That is a MUCH better way to spend your time.”

Legendary Cheese:

“IT COMES OUT WARM! Y/N! IT IS WAAARM!”

The Sadness Parade:

“If we run far enough we’ll have to find something, right? I’m going. If I’m not back by tonight… uh… I’ll probably show up.”

Equipment Recovery:

“You guys carry epi-pens, right? I don’t want to miss out on the mission but I… I will probably die.”

Blue Thing:

“It’s such a pretty colour! I think Makoto would look so good in a dress that shade! Don’t you?”

High School Yearbook:

“I signed her book once, but I feel like I should be doing more! Should I go pester some more students or forge the names of my family?”

(Students!)= “Bad call, Y/N. I think everyones annoyed at the both of us now. I hope Makoto isn’t angry at me…”

(Family!)= “Haha, I’d like to see them deny these signatures! Makoto’s basically a part of the family anyway, so I bet they’d be happy to have their names included! That makes another 8!”

OMG Glowsticks:

“What’s your favourite colour of glowstick? Mine is DEF purple, but it has the worst taste. Red is a lot better in that field.”

Magical Assistant:

“Oooh, if I do a good enough job do I get to wear one of those robes with stars on them? I’ve always wanted one of those!”

Yeti Begins:

“Has he tried retracing his steps? His footprints are very recognisable! If you squint a little bit they sort of look like stretched-out smiley faces!”

I Drilled Too Deep:

“Have they tried extinguishing yet? Maybe if we get it wet it won’t be a fire monster, just a regular one! Actually, that might still need thought.”

Pig, Camera, Action:

“I love the movies! I can’t go with Makoto, though, because her eyes are too bright and the security always think it’s a flashy video camera and we get kicked out.”

Ol’ Gabby’s Mine:

“I’m not claustrophobic, but this mine is a bit short, don’t you think? My head is touching the top, and I’m already crouched down. OH- maybe if I crawl I'll find more things!!!”

TOBOR’s Destiny:

“TOBOR is so cool! I think his destiny HAS to be something like “become famous” or “be super duper loved and cool”. Or maybe he’s just a robot. Robots are awesome!”

Reagent Run:

“I FOUND GRASS! That can be used! It could be garnish! Wendy better thank me for my innovation.”

Episode X:

“I LOOOVVVEEE STARCRUISER X! My favourite episode was the one where they found that planet of androids and then the tall one fell in love with one of them and- oh. Jenny just informed me that I might have dreamed that.”

Roadie Despair:

“These mics are really good! I have to remember to snag Annie’s supplier so I can get some when I perform next! I’ve got an album in the works: “Y/N is really cool but they need a nap.” Title to be secured as of yet.”

The Extremest Case:

“I have thought of sooo many stunts for him but he always says “nooooo, Naomi, that’s gonna get me killed,” or “that’s arson” or “that’s impossible’ or “no, I don’t want to come with you to the craft store.” Not my fault I’m too cool for him. He is so rude to me.”

What’s the F?:

“I actually know! It stands for “mistreatment of your daughter!””

MorcuCorp Stakeout:

“I’ve listened to every Asteroid Triplets album three times so far. When are they gonna make a move?”

Failing Forest:

“Aw, this is so sad to look at. I can tell that in full bloom this forest would be a gorgeous place to go stargazing.”

Tainted Broth:

“Can I try some? Can I try some of the frog broth? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please?”

Snake on the Loose:

“Mr Venom was my best ever study buddy because he would slither over my books so I couldn’t see them! I hope we find him soon, Liberty takes the best care of him.”

The Bushido Case:

“SWORDS! SWORDS! SWORDS! SWORDS!”

Pizza Investigation:

“One time me and Chaz ordered pizza because we were bummed out and then I put jelly beans and marshmallows on mine and he put cheese singles and hot sauce on his and then my twin walked in and looked at us like they wanted us dead.”

The Finest Blade:

“My finest blade is a rollerblade. You should see me on the rink. I’m kidding, obviously. I’m essentially useless here.”

Train Jimmy:

“I think what he needs is some good old fashioned positive reinforcement, so whenever he rolls a good piece of sushi I’m going to sprinkle him with glitter.”

Red Buddy:

“FINALLY, I have permission to put unfamiliar and possibly dangerous subjects in my mouth. This is MY MISSION, Y/N!”

The Prominence:

“This set needs more stars on it. I think the curtains should be galaxy print- actually, no, then everyone would just be looking at the curtains. I’ll keep brainstorming.”

Gonk Need Food, Badly:

“If I was a caveman, I’d probably want something plain and acquainted to my natural-based preferences. However, I am not, and it will be reminisce of me not to give this little man some popping candy.”

Writer's Block:

“The night sky shifts slowly,

While every minute passes,

I didn’t plan this far ahead.

I just wanted it to rhyme with ‘gases’. Because toilet humour makes goth boy angry.

Thank you.”

Candypaluna:

“!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Y/N I’M IN SPACE!!!!! NAOMI ARENA IS AMONGST THE COSMOS BABY!”

Prom Date:

“She’s looking for a date? What kind of date? What’s her type? I can’t just go up and ask her what her type is! Should I ask her? Y/N, do you think she wants me to ask her?”

Blade of Destiny:

“My siblings love to steal things from me as well. Like my best snacks. I act like I don’t mind but I do. This is war.”

Penguin Style:

“I’m just gonna tuck my knees under my skirt and waddle around. I’ll think of the fighting part in a second.”

Magical Disaster:

“They’re kinda owning this, actually. I think I can braid Butter’s beard and add little slips and flowers and then maybe she’ll look a bit less like she wants to commit murder.”

Music That Moves You:

“These beats are soooo good! Personally, I like to go for music that’s just noises with no pattern but Candy sure knows what she’s doing!”

Time For Toast:

“I’m back in the 1800s, I think. I am immensely underdressed! Everyone looks so cute and I still have no toast!”

Cocoa Science:

“Hot chocolate is my favourite drink next to milkshakes, smoothies, melted ice cream and mouthwash.”

F, Robot:

“WE ALREADY HAD ONE! WE DIDN’T NEED ANOTHER ONE! Unless he’s gonna build a giant TOBOR and Makoto. Double the fun.”

Sewer Search:

“This isn’t so bad! I’m becoming one with the sewage- oh. No, I changed my mind. There’s a diaper right by my head.”

Trouble With Truffles:

“Where’s the nearest truffle farm? They can’t be that rare, can they? I might just go buy some, can I use the SPA card?”

Protection Detail:

“How many weapons are we allowed? This is IMPORTANT, Y/N. How can we take this seriously without good tools? I want a flamethrower, please.”

H4XXORD3D:

“One time my Minipets account got hacked. I lost 8 tigers and a horse. It was the 15th worst day of my life.”

Justice for Justice:

“Justice has given me more temporary tattoos that I can count. I am NEVER going to anybody else. Those guys probably use doodie ink or something.”

The Longest Voyage:

“I feel like a pirate, Y/N! This is so much fun- first one to see a mermaid wins.”

Snack Thief:

“Oh this is abysmal. Anybody guilty of snack theft should be fired immediately. Unless it’s me because I’m cute and silly.”

Missing Bugs:

“They aren’t big bugs, are they? I don’t really like getting all crawled over by big bugs…”

Suckers Sabotage:

“Aw, this poor guy, he’s getting all worked up! I’m gonna make him a little flower crown to cheer him up.”

One More Time:

“Oh no! My nail is broken! Oh, and my entire family has moved out of the country without me but I’m trying my best not to address that!”

[voidvinn]

mission failed we’ll get em next time

[rxgclity]

[ yara shahidi | she/her ] Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome FEL JONES to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are an 23 year old DRYAD, who is one of the RETURNED but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be CAUTIOUS, but that’s all a façade to cover up their DOWN TO EARTH nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to NUMB LITTLE BUG by EM BEIHOLD, which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world.

ABOUT

full name : fel jones

nicknames : fella (by friends), fel

age : 23 ( 23 physically )

birthday/zodiac : july 8th (a date her adoptive parents gave her) / cancer

gender/pronouns : cis woman / she/her

sexual orientation : questioning

species : dryad

occupation : full time student

family : unknown parents, unknown siblings, the oea (adoptive parents/killer)

languages : english, french, floriography

PERSONALITY

bad habits … . flinching, over-eating when stressed, constantly oversleeping

hobbies … . the earth, gardening, meeting people (before death)

fears … . living without finding the reason for her death

alignment : neutral good

BEHIND THE MASK

face claim … . yara shahadi

height … . 5'3"

hair color … . black

eye color … . brown

scars … . a knife mark from where she was stabbed over her heart

ABOUT

She doesn't know when she was born, she was told that it was 23 years ago when she was found as a baby during a massacre committed by the OEA. The woman she viewed as her mother felt pity on the baby, quickly taking her from her parents and adopting her as her own

This was led with much criticism by the OEA, finding it made them look hypocritical to adopt a supernatural creature when they only wanted their extinction. But the woman managed to convince on the pretext of raising her to be their soldier

And thus, whatever her original name was was taken away and she was given the name 'Fel' - which she would later learn the meaning of only right before she met her demise.

Raised with what she assumed was love by her 'parents', she was made to believe that her kind were the ones who attacked the OEA, and it was by the grace of the OEA's head of operations that she survived. She was one of the lucky ones, she had to show her loyalty in any way

And despite not wanting conflict, she found herself defending who she believed to be her family over and over again, finding her hands stained with the blood of the OEA's victims

But her usefulness started to wean, especially now that they were becoming a bigger movement, bigger than Fel herself. And thus she was cast out from the others - being forced into isolation with little to no contact nor sunlight.

She wondered what she did wrong, why she deserved this, but found that it was due to her carelessness - she just hadn't done enough for her family. So when the door to her cell finally opened she felt as though she had been given a second chance to prove herself.

Being led into a room, she was met with familiar faces and wondered what was happening, was there a mission she needed to go on? Before she had a chance to speak, though, her arms were grabbed and she was forced to her knees.

'Do you know what your name means?' the head asked as he neared her, face both stoic and menacing at the same time. 'treacherous, deceitful, villainous, wicked, evil, that's what you are' he finally said as her eyes widened

She still failed to realize what would happen next, watching as a knife was handed to the woman she assumed was her mother. "Mother?" was the last word that she managed to mutter before a knife was plunged into her heart.

Was this what her life's meaning was? To be used as a pawn for a place she considered home? But when she truly thought about it - in her last minutes - she could see all the things she had missed previously. The stares of hatred, the absence of friends, the loneliness - all things she had been told would go away once she became truly accepted were all lies.

If I get another chance at life, I will never make the same mistake was the last thing she thought before the life finally slipped from her. It was dark, too dark, and she thought she'd be in this darkness for eternity until, finally, she wasn't

She's not sure how long it had been since she was last alive but she knew one thing - the OEA was even bigger than it once was. How had she been so foolish to be swayed by such sweet words. Never again, she determined.

Now that she's back, she finds herself conflicted, unsure if she wants revenge or not. She wants to avenge herself, not let her death be in vain, but at the same time she just wants to live a life without resentment. Either way, she knows she will not be swayed with such sweet words again

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Her birth family

OEA members she knew (positive or negative)

People who secretly were friends with Fel (OEA only)

[akihatohnoofficial]

Mission failed… we’ll get ‘em next time