#oh my god its part 3!

[salstray]

Keegan P. Russ x fem!Reader - Guardian Angel - part 3 3rd person pov warnings: blood, guns, knife wounds 1.8k words

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~The Meet Cute~

Part 1 = Part 2

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No one was invincible. 

Keegan was always careful to remember that. It didn’t matter how much training you had, how many years you’d been at it, and sometimes it didn’t even matter how careful you were. Sometimes it was just sheer luck that got you where you were. 

In this case, it was bad luck.

It wasn’t life threatening. A knife wound on his thigh, a few inches off from his artery, but leaking blood like it didn’t matter. Like it wanted to kill him or, at the very least, leave a crystal clear trail of crimson in the snow. A perfect path for every Fed soldier combing the mountain side to use like birds following breadcrumbs.

It wasn’t life threatening. Not in the traditional sense at least, but he was alone out here. Alone, unlucky, and outnumbered. 

He needed to move. To push himself away from the tree against his shoulder and head deeper into the frozen underbrush. Hide himself somewhere low and quiet where he could deal with his leg and wait for the all clear from Merrick, but it wouldn’t matter where he hid, how well he covered his boot tracks, if the blood was still dripping from his heel with every step. 

The not so distant sounds of Spanish reached his ears and he resisted the urge to swear into the open. They were too close. Too damn close for him to do anything. 

Keegan crouched low, wincing silently at the pull of flesh at the edges of his wound. The warm gush of his blood squeezing out of his veins made an unpleasant shudder roll up his spine, but he took a deep breath and raised his gun instead of dwelling on it. Getting hurt was never fun, yet it was still part of the job. 

He put his scope up to his eye, slowly scanning it back and forth, spotting the shifting of his enemies and their snow-colored camo through the trunks of the surrounding pines. Keegan counted six men and pressed his lips together under his mask. They way they were spread out? He’d get two… maybe three before the others clocked his position and pinned him behind his meager cover. Even so, just because he counted six didn’t mean there weren’t more. Fuck knows there had been more in the convoy he’d been following-

Keegan almost jumped right out of his skin at the feeling of warm, soft fingertips barely brushing against the nape of his neck. The only sliver of flesh he showed besides the painted space around his eyes and the newly exposed tear in his own white and gray patterned cargo pants. 

He whipped around, gun barrel at the ready, sweeping it from side to side into the empty air behind him, panting at the sudden rush of adrenaline and the surge of fear that pulsed through him. 

Suddenly, something snapped. Loud and echoing, on the other side of the enemy, the opposite side of the forest from where he was hiding. Distant. Distracting. Sending them off shouting, weapons ready, crashing through the dormant shrubs and low hanging branches like hunting hounds after a fox. Keegan turned back to watch them, noting in his mind as his heart steadied again that he now counted eleven men tromping their way through the snow. 

He was touched again, feather-light, warm against his frigid skin, and Keegan flinched. 

“Easy,” that voice called, making him freeze all at once. “Let me help.” 

The hand at his scruff gently slid to his shoulder, but before it could settle there, before the other hand could slide past him to rest on his thigh and heal the wound that was still dripping onto the snow, Keegan stood and turned. 

His gun was up, the hot end pointed directly into a pair of shimmering eyes. Wide and worried, but not at all afraid and not even slightly surprised. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Keegan growled, low and quiet, well aware of the fact that he was still in enemy territory. Still close to a lot of people that wanted him dead. 

“Your leg-” 

“Answer me or I will shoot you.” 

It was a woman. Shorter than him, softer than him. Not even dressed for the weather… no vest, no radio, no flag to show her loyalty to one side or the other. Just… clothes. She wasn’t even shivering and the mountain was nearly below freezing at this time of year. His brow pinched ever so slightly and his eyes narrowed harshly as he took her in. Watched her stand there, her hands slightly raised in surrender, her flickering eyes dancing between his own and the place he’d been stabbed. 

When she spoke to him again, it was a name. Her name. Then a small smile curled at her lips and Keegan’s heart did something… funny at the sight of it. Something he didn’t exactly like that it was doing. 

“What are you doing out here?” He hissed, keeping his gun level with the tip of her nose. “Where did you come from?” Keegan’s eyes barely moved. Barely glanced at the fresh, unbothered snow behind her. It was pushed up around her shoes, bunched up at her ankles and near her calves, but there was no trail behind her that suggested she’d walked up to him. It looked more like she’d just… appeared where she stood.

“I want to help you.” 

“How?”

Her eyes, still bright with emotion, fell back to his thigh. “You’re bleeding.”

“Not the first time,” he grunted.

She huffed, her smile twitching up on one side. “Not the last either, I’m sure, but I’ll be there for you then too. Like I was up in that sniper nest… remember? The house on the hill?” Keegan’s jaw shifted under his mask, the rough, aged fabric rubbing uncomfortably against the stubble that grew there. 

It had been four months since that day. Since he’d been shot, nearly killed, yet got up and walked off like it had never happened. He dreamed about that night. Constantly. Vividly. A picture perfect reenactment his unconscious mind gave him to analyze over and over and over again. A situation that he’d still not come to terms with. Something he still couldn’t rationalize in any way that made sense.

“You…,” he muttered, voice barely more than a rough, ragged whisper. “...that was you.” 

She beamed at him, her smile full and bright and… beautiful.

“Yeah. That was me.” She clasped her hands behind her back. Again, her gaze fell to his leg. “Will you let me do it again?”

“M’ not dying this time.” 

“Don’t need to be dying for me to help,” she stated. “Just need to be hurt.” Then she looked right down the barrel of his rifle and Keegan, for some fucking reason, felt himself flush under all the paint. Slowly, he let it fall back down towards the ground, the butt of it sliding loose from the nest of his shoulder. 

“Right.” Maybe it was stupid, maybe she was some Fed assassin that had come down from the trees or something, but he took his eyes off of her. Turned to look the way his known enemies had gone, making sure they were still running off after their red herring, then turned to face her again, nodding once. 

He was tense when she took a trudging step forward. Had his fingers tight against the icy metal of his gun, all his muscles wound up and at the ready, should he need them. 

She didn’t attack him, however. Didn’t pull out a knife and gut him where he stood. Just reached forward with one hand, splaying her fingers across the now ruby red fabric, her palm pressing into the gore with a silent squelch that made him press his lips together under the mask. His eyes flickered down to the contact, then back to her face and he decided all at once that he didn’t like the way blood looked on her skin, but he did like the look of concentration that twisted her features. It was… cute.

Keegan almost had to shake his head to dislodge the thought from his mind. Now was not the time.

He’d already felt the warmth of her hand through his layers. She wasn’t even touching him skin to skin, but he could feel it through everything. Feel the way it poured into his bones, into the twitching skin as it slowly sewed itself back together. The chill of drying blood vanished too and Keegan’s eyes widened a touch as it faded from his white camo. First a bright sort of vermilion, then a rapidly vanishing pink, then back to the broken pattern of gray, white, and black that hid him in the mountains and the forest. 

When his eyes met hers she was smiling again and he felt the absolutely traitorous pull of a matching gesture at the right side of his lips.

He’d never been more thankful for the mask. 

“There. All better.” 

“What are you?” he breathed, blinking a few times as his thoughts caught up to him. As the reality of what had just happened was finally carved permanently into the wrinkles of his brain. 

“Just someone that wants to keep you safe,” she answered simply. She took a step back, her feet planted back into her original prints and bent to the side to look past his arm, out towards the trees. “You shouldn’t stay here. The Federation is still too close.” 

As if on queue, the low growl of Merrick’s voice filtered through the static of his radio and Keegan jolted as it sounded in his ear.

“Keegan! Time’s up, Hesh’ll be waitin’ for ya by the river mouth. Haul ass, Feds aren’t happy and they know we’re here!”

The motion he made to reach up and respond was second nature at this point. “Copy,” he rasped, eyes still locked on the strange, pretty thing in front of him. When his glove settled back on his weapon, he spoke again. To her. “When am I gonna see you again?” 

She shrugged. “Depends on when you get hurt again.” 

What if I wanna see you outside of that? He had so many questions he wanted to ask. So many things he didn’t understand about her and why she was even here. To help him, sure. She’d said that point blank, but why him? Why not any of the other Ghosts? Why not any other soldier out there, fighting to take back their home? 

Keegan didn’t voice any of them, though. He simply grunted, adjusted his hold on his rifle, and glanced over his shoulder, back out over the snow. 

And when he turned to give her some sort of goodbye, he found only fluttering snow and frosty wind in front of him. Along with two deep pits where she once stood. The only evidence that he hadn’t, in fact, lost his mind up on that hill, in that house. 

So, instead of speaking, he sighed. Heavily. 

Then turned and bent at the knee, gun barrel raised and eyes sharp.

--

[b0tster]

finally watched the orvilles tale of two topas episode

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

ooo fantasy au Poppy oooo there's so much empty space on this, it's killing me

rambles:

why is there lace? why does she have a neck corset? because she's Gorgeous and I'm the Artist Here. i will always inflict my personal tastes on everyone I draw. pretty bird <3

it's really difficult to put clothes on a bird... stream helped out a bunch with the colors & the leg gear! I imagine that the leather is durable, which is probably the only thing that gets her to traverse less Forgiving terrain. Thornbushes and itchy tallgrass can't hurt her! she's got "boots"! How Does She Secure Them, i hear no one ask. that's what neighbors are for, isn't it? and a skilled beak once she gets the swing of it.

her shawl remains largely the same due to my lack of imagination! i put a lil feather clasp instead of the shawl being tied together to give it a more fantasy-oriented look. i think i succeeded? i like to think so! i imagine that the clasp gives Poppy some stress, though. It's sharp! Ish. it's sharp by her standards!

Poppy's enchanted glasses allow her to "see" injuries and illness, both caused by magical & normal means. this is very helpful in her role as healer, but also extremely stressful - just because she can see issues doesn't mean she automatically knows what they are! to her, a papercut may be misinterpreted by the beginnings of a fatal infection! i like to think that she got tired of needing to hold the glasses in place over her beak and asked if there was a charm to keep them steady. and they confidently had their resident wizard spell them on - oops! the spell was a little too strong! they're now magically superglued on! yeah, those are never coming off.

she also has a magic bag that i imagine was a gift from her family when she left the nest! she'd never directly use it herself - what if she falls in? what if something nasty managed to crawl inside? - but the Neighborhood uses it as collective storage. it can hold a lot! supplies, books, tents, gold, even Julie when she's determined enough!

[intotheelliwoods]

-> -> Guess whos AU is turning a year old on February 17th!

The time when the update will be posted is not specified since it will all be dependent on my work schedule, however I will try and let you all know when it is being posted in advance if I end up posting it very late in the day!

(I am in MST)

[samarecharm]

tiny.

[skitskatdacat63]

"Non paeniteo potitus."

+ details & process

And, process !!

The jump btwn the second to last and last always surprise me whenever I make one of these because I always forget to take snapshots after I start painting. It's always like: oh yeah heres the lineart with some colors- BOOM fully finished✨️

What he's holding are the Austrian imperial scepter and orb, seen below:

I was going to draw the crown too but decided I don't hate myself that much(maybe some other day), and gave him a golden laurel crown, bcs I'm obsessed with that as a motif, and also its very remincient of the boy king statue that started this whole thing!

There's some symbolism of this, both intentionally but also just historically. I love that the orb represents that the monarch is holding the world in their hand, basically every old monarchy has one of those, and I think it's very cool for symbolism. But also bcs of that, I was forced to basically draw catholic fanart so, you win some you lose some. The star halo above him head is both to reference those religious statues with star crowns(I saw them a lot in Europe and they imprinted onto my brain), as well as: his four championships of course!

[skunkes]

^_^

[doostyaudi]

Rave-N Mag Agent Torture (Rnorture) (he/they) (music is undecided :p)

Not my proudest design but it's... Something..

Rnorture is a bit of a cranky fella, he gets angry quickly and is 90% of the time in a pissy mood. Hes a bit mean but that's okay we still love him 🫶💖

Oh yea, have some doodles! And a random rendered bust... I don't know why i did it but yea, there u go lol

Honestly id draw the other mag agents, if anyone cares to ask me too lol. i don't really have any ideas for them atm, but ill come up with something eventually :p

[narmothewraith]

How I imagine myself (aka want to be)

Vent in the tags (sorry in advance)

[carcarrot]

OLD MEN WERE TEMPTING ME...........

[bananonbinary]

oh my godddd just got recommended a post about how the slay the princess fandom is misogynistic and giving in to "the trend where fandom ignores the female characters" bc people are having fun shipping the voices. several comments were like 'ugh i know its so bad already ://" shut up. shut up shut up shut uppppppp

the slay the princess fandom is VERY small. if you check ao3, we've got less than 200 fics total. and guess what? the hero/princess ship is by FAR the most popular. the voice ships are miniscule in comparison. if people playing with m/m ships at ALL bothers you, you may in fact just be homophobic. (and maybe instead of bitching about how what a handful of other people create isn't to your liking, you could like. create something yourself.)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

*posts this and runs away. i trip and fall into an open manhole, dying instantly*

[imminent-danger-came]

My new hobby is skimming through seasons of Ninj//ago to induce a fever dream like state in my psychese

[baeshijima]

it is now officially the 25th which means...

merry christmas everyone !!! regardless of whether u celebrate or not, i hope u all have a lovely day with whoever u spend it with or with urself <33

[cognitosclowns]

ITS HAPPENING ITS HAPPENING ITS HAPPENING ITS-

[todayisafridaynight]

THIS IS GONNA SOUND SO MEAN BUT WHY DO U LIKE RYO AOKI/MASATO

masato hot