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baby-jaguar · 6 months

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Part 1: Meeting Simon Riley

Western AU; Mail Order Spouse Trope!

WC: 3,224 CW: None

AN: Sorry this took so long! I wanted to have a good amount of writing as I cycle through everyone's beginnings, plus, 3k seems like a good starting point to get us settled in. Would love to hear your thoughts and comments. I hope ye enjoy <3

Please see the following for the explanation and precursors to the scene!

Introduction, Biography

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Going home a bit late in the night and dodging your now passed-out parents, you quietly and quickly got set to writing your correspondence letter to him. After deliberation of not wanting to scare him away, you leave out the main reason why you had even looked at the ad in the first place. You described yourself, and your work ethic, trying to resonate with the little amount of words placed in his ad. You included your hopes, wants, and wishes for the future, before sealing the letter up and placing it in the mail the next morning.

When you received a letter back from him, it felt ethereal that he had taken the time to scrawl out a response in the interest of yourself.

The letters were sparse but you poured your heart out to Simon and sent a picture of yourself. During the weeks of waiting and reading the correspondence, you set an image of the man in your head. Granted, Simon declined to send you a picture of himself and stated that the image of him in the ad was sufficient and promised his word that he speaks in truth about himself… Even though he wore a bandana that covered half of his face- nor did he give any reason as to why.

Through the letters, he described himself as a respectful man, one who is more stoic and reserved to the locals, but feels that he has plenty of love to give. He wants to provide for and protect you, with a desire to start a family, of some sort at least, soon. It was a rough to attempt to hide the letters, write them, and send them out with full secrecy. But after a wait of a full month, cutting it far too close to when the politician would be arriving back, Simon finally invited you to the new frontier as he proposed to you in correspondence.

From the moment you read his words of invitation, you packed two small bags of your most favorite, and fondest items. Acting as if nothing was wrong during this time under your parent's eyes, you head to bed, feigning innocence while figuring out just how to get out.

Simon, ever the gentleman, had given you $25 for the long train ride and sleeping car that you would need to make it to him. With the money and the amount you had slowly held back from giving to your parents from your job, you were determined to leave and start a new life.

In the dead of the eve before the politician's carriage would be arriving at his manor, you left through your bedroom window, managing to even steal a bottle of your father's finest whiskey as a present for Simon.

The journey took a week by train, lucky enough that you lived on the outskirts of a city that had a transcontinental train station- a hub for many people who were excited and looking to head West, wherever the train tracks ended. Your stops were along Topeka and Santa Fe before you had to find a different line that diverged from Albuquerque towards El Paso, before heading into the Arizona Territory.

When departing the train, you hopped into a stagecoach and using the last of Simons's money, ready for the final and short journey to find his estate. Watching the land and people pass by through the small window, you take in the surroundings of your new life that is finally within a breath's reach. Towards the end of the town, you spot a house that is on the expanse of desert plains; a secluded but well-sized house made of wood and stone masonry sits atop a hill, the Arizona sunset shining down as a gold beacon of heaven.

Once there and stepping out of the stagecoach with your belongings, you find yourself in front of the property when your eyes are drawn to him.

On the porch stands a tall and rugged man with a sturdy frame of muscles, evident in his build. The clothes he adorns are tight fitting and dirty, conclusive that he had just been working within his forge; dirtied denim jeans, an off-white long-sleeve shirt, clean where a smock would hang on his front.

A black bandana covers the bottom of his face while a black cowboy hat adorns his head, leaving the sliver of skin from the ridge of his nose to his mid-forehead to be shown.

As the stagecoach pulls away back into town, eyes are locked between you two for a long moment before he finally pushes off the pillar of his porch. A low and appreciative whistle escapes from underneath his bandana, accompanying the thuds of his footsteps walking down his porch stairs to you.

“Well, I’ll be damned... Please tell me you're who I think you are…” He simpers out, eyes trailing over your form. The sound of his voice strikes a flame to your heart, a match sufficiently lit as you hear the low and resonating tone- it’s enough to send a tremor through your lungs.

Swallowing, and a nod of your head, “If you’re Simon then yes, I’m who you’d be expecting.” You smile shyly as you watch him take a few strides to stand in front of you.

As he draws closer, his deep brown iris' make themselves apparent, a crinkle around the edge of his eyes makes you believe he’s smirking. "You got it right, darlin'. I'm Simon, but most folks around here call me Ghost. Pleased to finally meet you, sweetheart." His voice is deep and resonant, carrying a hint of gravel, as he extends his calloused hand towards you in greeting.

His touch is firm, your smaller and slightly softer hands a comparison of the lives you’ve lived. As you take his hand and give it a firm shake, Simon's grip tightens for a moment, his gaze locked with yours.

There's a spark of recognition in his eyes as if he appreciates your strength.

"Reckon I lucked out with you, that picture you sent didn’t do a damn justice." He chuckles softly, eyes lingering on your form before meeting your gaze once more. "Come on, let's get you settled in. There's plenty to see 'round here." He gestures towards the house, hand outstretched for you to take after grabbing one of your bags.

“Thank you, and I could say the same ‘bout you, sir. Was nervous when you didn’t send me any photos but now I can put my worries away.” You smile, intrigued and slightly apprehensive as you now place your hand in his, granting him the reigns to hold the fate of your new life.

While he leads you up the stairs of your new home, you take a curious glance up to his figure before trailing up to his eyes that are uncovered.

He hums at your comment, "I reckon I wanted to leave a little mystery for ya, darlin'." He gives you a playful wink before leading you up the porch steps and into the house.

“Would you prefer I call you Ghost, sir?” You ask after a moment of thought, moving to follow him into the house as he opens the door while your eyes flick back to take in his profile. He gives a light chuckle as he closes the door behind you, the interior of the home having a bit of style and small added luxuries in its design.

Once inside, you're greeted by a cozy and rustic interior; The living room is adorned with wood furnishings and a stone fireplace that crackles with warmth. The dining room is off to the left side, and straight in front of the door is a hallway that leads to doors at the end. He walked towards the living room, the scent of freshly cut wood fills the air, mingling with the lingering aroma of metal from the forge out back that carries through the house.

He leads you out of the entryway and into the main living area of the house. The rustic charm of the place is evident, with wooden beams on the ceiling and a large stone fireplace dominating one wall. The room is warm and cozy, with a worn leather sofa and a few mismatched chairs arranged around a rough-hewn coffee table.

Simon turns to face you, his eyes softening as he considers your question. "You can call me Ghost if you like. It's what most folks 'round here call me. It’s grown to be natural, y’know?" He pauses, a considerate expression crossing his face. "But if you prefer Simon, that's fine too. Whatever makes you comfortable, darlin'."

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of your hair back. "You've traveled a long way to be here. I appreciate that, and I want you to feel at home. This here is your home now too."

Upturning your chin as he moves his fingers to lightly trace your face, your eyes close for a long moment before opening back up to him.

“Thank you for inviting me out here- taking the chance on me. I do owe you my life.” You add, feeling a bit bold in the way you elude to something but brush it off as a docile sense of gratitude while his hand falls to his side.

“I’m excited to be in our home, please let me know if I’m ever a bother for you, sir.” You include, shifting the conversation back to the present and a prospective thought.

You don’t notice the way his eyes stop to stare into your own for a moment, as he flags the previous sentence to come back to later.

"You ain't ever gonna be a bother to me, honey. Quite the opposite, actually." A hint of desire mixed with light amusement, his gaze flickering to your lips before returning to your eyes. "I've been alone for too long, and I'm eager to have you by my side. To share this home, this life, and everything else that comes with it."

He takes a step back, gaze still locked with yours. "Now, how about I show you to your room, first? There's more to see, and want you settled in.” The movement of his arm to gesture to the house accompanies his deep rumble, and as your eyes gaze toward the bedroom hallway, you can't help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

With a nod of your head, feeling almost absent-minded while your thoughts race with scenarios, you move to pick up your bags. “Lead the way, please.” You answer with a warm smile, trying to convey your warm innocence in the moment.

From the crinkle around his eyes, Simon's lips curl into a small, satisfied smile as he watches you gather your bags. "Alright then, follow me." He says before moving to swoop a handle of your bag out from yours, then placing your free hand into his.

Turning to look back, his eyes wander over you again, before stopping in front of a door to the right side of the hallway; Opening the door, he ushers you in with a hand to the small of your back.

Stepping in, you face a window that overlooks the grassy planes of the desert. To the right of the room, a small cot is pushed against the wall, a wooden nightstand on its left side. To the left of the room, was a closet and desk. The room was a little decorated, giving off an inviting feel, and you can sense that in a rugged and manly way, he tried his best for you.

"Here we are... Your room." He drawls out from the doorway before settling his right shoulder against it. His eyes, which you don't see as you survey the room, take in your body language and facial expressions, looking for any sign of displeasure.

To his surprise, you're ecstatic.

The reality of even the minimal amount of effort and having a room that was not falling apart, or dirty, and had a bed off of the ground via a wrought iron bed frame was an extreme luxury compared to your previous home.

Walking over to the window with a smile and bright eyes that reflect in the orange sunset, your jaw drops at how peaceful and comforting it is to be in something that is now considered yours.

“This is… this is much more than I could have ever asked for, Simon.” You say while taking a step to turn around, dropping your bag down by the closet before turning back towards him. “Thank you, this is incredibly sweet of you to do this.” The pull of your cheeks is evidence enough that you must look like a fool at how hard you smile, but the look in Simon’s eyes in response is worth it.

His face- eyes, light up as he sees the reaction, a warm feeling coming over him as your excitement melts his heart, and he lets a light huff escape. "’s no problem... But, I did have a question to ask you first before anything else..." He spoke softly, arms crossed in front of him as he waited for your acknowledgment, his deep brown eyes holding a depth to them.

Clearing his throat, he looks as if deciding between something. A moment later, he pushes off the door frame and walks towards you, still leaving some distance.

"Now, I will always respect your independence and autonomy, but as a man and your husband, I expect some things of you, and I'll make it known..." He let out a sigh before continuing.

“Since we're living together and going to be newlyweds, there are a few expectations I have for us, and I want to ask you how you feel about those expectations." He asked quietly, his tone remaining calm, and you begin to figure that in his way, this is Simon acting soft in nature.

You nod once, giving him the signal to continue while remaining quiet, hands laced together in front of your lap as you watch him with rapt attention.

"I am not forcing you to agree to them. But I do expect that you will spend time with me, that you will not lie to me, and that you will be monogamous to me. I want our communication to be open and straightforward, none of that tip-toeing around each other." He paused, his tone serious for a moment as he wanted it to get across. He smiled after his words as he turned. "Any questions?"

Oh.

That’s it?

You expected something a tad more… unjust and harsh from a man who comes off as intimidating as Simon, the man known as Ghost amongst the town. But, there was one question you had in response to what he expected of you; monogamy.

“Just one, If you don’t mind me askin’” Your voice comes out smooth and sweet, more soft and timid than you’d like to present yourself in a situation worth garnering the level of respect entrusted to each other. “Will you remain monogamous to me, or do you spend time with others?”

With a huff and shake of his head, he pushes the fabric of his bandana away by a small amount of air from his mouth.

"No... I will only be monogamous to you. You're the one I decided to marry, and I intend to make this marriage work." He spoke firmly. "And I do not spend time with others... I can promise you that you're the only one I need.”

There is a pause in his answer as he takes a step closer, head now looking down at you while his hand glides up to land underneath your jaw, taking you by slight surprise as he holds it with his large and rough fingers.

“Does that address your concerns?" He ends the question with a deep and more serious tone- his voice makes your mind bring up what his mouth looks like while saying it.

The sound that escapes you is classically embarrassing, showing how much you are not the experienced one in this scenario. You swallow before answering. “It does… and I agree to these expectations.” You reply before taking a deeper inhale- the scent of fire, ash, and an unfamiliar smell of what could be his musk mixed with metal, one that vaguely reminds you of blood.

“May I ask something, sir? It may be rude to ask if right now but since we are setting boundaries I’d like to know.” The moment of closeness is something you hope will shield you from any backlash from asking what you’re curious about.

"You may, there is nothing you could say that would be taken offensively." He spoke softly, looking at you as his eyes traveled over your face; he looks over the ridges, pores, and even seeing a few small scars here and there along your soft skin.

Your eyes are drawn to his face similarly: the pores that seem dirty from the day of work he had, scars that are random in placement but more than a small amount litter his forehead, and the top of his cheekbones that flow underneath the bandana. “May I ask why you wear the mask, or at least, will you be wearing it around me if I am to be your spouse soon?”

Your eyes find the telling features that his jaw is ticked, and a rush of anxiety flushes through as your stomach drops in fear that this was not supposed to be asked.

He drops the hold of your jaw, looking down with a nod of his head as if he was expecting the question. Taking his own deep breath and looking back up, his tone is surprisingly gentle, not allowing any shame to come out of him.

"I am afraid my appearance is a bit.. unsettling... I will remove it in our bedroom while we sleep and make love, but... I am not one to show it off as I do find people make too many assumptions." He spoke truthfully.

You can’t control the movement of your eyebrows furrowing up in confusion. Unsettling…? Is that his own belief or was he told that? You want to diffuse the situation before you make it more uncomfortable, yet your mouth works faster than your mind.

“You can deny me the answer, but, may I ask what happened?” You surprise yourself while talking with a level voice, social context be damned.

He stays silent as he thinks on whether or not to answer, his face shifting slightly to show some emotions. You curse yourself the longer the silence ticks by.

"I had a... scar left by an incident a while back... And it's one thing I like to keep private until I am able to completely trust someone." He spoke, a shrug of his shoulders makes his clothes rustle as he dismisses his answer and wanting to leave it behind.

Clearing his throat, he tips his head towards you and the cowboy hat obscures the visibility of his eyes for a moment. “Well then, I’ll let you get settled in darlin’. Call for me when you’re finished.” He states resoundingly, and with that, he turns to exit from your room and back down the hallway.

#cod mw2 #task force 141 #call of duty #simon riley ghost #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #blacksmith ghost #WAUMOST #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #lieutenant ghost

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cordeliawhohung · 2 months

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greek mythology au where reader is Aphrodite, a beautiful maiden who is loved and admired by all, but is forced to marry the ugly blacksmith, Hephaestus/Simon Riley.

#core talks #141 au #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #f!reader #except reader doesn't cheat on him like in the actual mythology lmfao

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octopiys · 8 months

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I've been rewatching HTTYD and of course I had to combine my two interests

John MacTavish (27) is a native to the village, most recognized for his shaved sides and long mohawk. He's the village blacksmith, with an affinity for crafting new weapons, large ones that counter even a dragon's fireball.

Once when he was a teenager, he got his hands on a craftsman's items, and decided that he needed some of it to slick down a part of one of his contraptions. It exploded, as those kinds of things do, into a mass of bubbles and sweet scents, earning him the nickname of Soap.

John Price(37) is a trainer. He was an older viking whose battle seemed all but over when a dragon took his arm. He was still the same, just more experienced, and 10 years older.

He's had a few apprentices, his most recent being a younger man named Kyle Garrick(28), or commonly referred to as Gaz. If you ever ask why he's called that, Price will mutter something about it being "need to know", and he'll sick a particularly nasty dragon on you the next time you train with him.

There's a common pattern amongst Price's protégés.

Most of the times they're outcasts, alone. Gaz's parents were killed in a dragon attack when he was a child, but he didn't consider himself alone. He had plenty of friends, of course he did, there's Soap...-

No but totally, he was fine. He's fought dragons! Sure, he hasn't killed any yet, and sure, Price has saved his ass more than once, but he's come out unscathed!

Most of the time.

But Price's most famous protégé, or shall I even say very close ally, was the Lieutenant: Simon Riley

From the stories, Simon Riley was a man who fought dragons like no other. They both learned from each other, Price and Riley. He was a beast of blades and man, they slayed more dragons together than the entire village combined.

It would be a lie if I said that the two boys didn't look up to him, a lie if Price didn't see Riley in each of them.

It would be an even bigger lie if he hoped they didn't turn out like him, either.

Neither Gaz, nor Soap had ever met Simon Riley.

He was killed in one of the worst dragon attacks the village had seen in its entire 300 years of history.

They descended from the heavens, flying warriors sent from hell, carting off men and cattle, snapping them up in powerful jaws and flame. Price was one of those men, it was how he lost his arm. He was also the only one to survive a personal attack of that scale.

Riley had thrown everything he had to save Price. There were tricks he had up his sleeves, some that not even Price had known, that he used to get the Captain back when even he thought he was done for.

All they knew was that Simon Riley had been killed that night in place of John Price.

Those parts of the stories were left untold.

It wasn't a sensitive subject, but Price had a tendency to shatter the glass he was holding if someone asked one too many times.

It had been ten years since Riley's disappearance. His name was inscribed on the village memorial in the square, a remembrance statue to all the greatest warriors in the village's history.

It was a particularly late night when Price had let Gaz go early, as the dragon tournament was coming up, and he wanted the man to get some rest. That's how both Gaz and Soap were out by the bluffs overlooking the ocean. It was hidden through a mile of brush and trees, but tonight was one of the first clear nights since the winter, and they were excited to see the stars.

It wasn't until stars had started blinking out, half the sky was black, that they realized something was wrong.

"Dragons...." Gaz breathed suddenly, as mouths began to light up, hundreds of feet in the air above them. "It's dragons!"

Gaz pulled Soap to his feet and they began running like their lives depended on it, which in this case, it did.

Their lungs were already sore, their voices hoarse as they shouted to a few men on the outskirts.

"Swarm! Swarm!"

Vikings readied their weapons, and minutes later, the beasts shot overhead. Flashes of red, blue, greens, and yellow, silver glinting unnaturally in the moonlight.

There had been rumors about dragon riders. Those who had tamed the beasts, or maybe found a common ground with them.

There was nothing more dangerous than a man-tamed dragon.

"It's Kingfish!" Someone down the hill had shouted, and Gaz's blood ran cold.

There were whispers about a man they called Kingfish, one who hid in the shadows with armies of the scaled monsters, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting villages and pillage them for himself. No one knew his real name, where he came from, or where the nest was. But everyone knew that once Kingfish set his sights on a village, they were as good as dead.

They saw Price leave his house, half armored, but a fire in his eyes as he heaved his Warhammer behind him, disappearing behind the body of a massive dragon that was scaling the watchtower down by the water.

"Soap! C'mon!" Kyle shouted, dragging his friend down the hill. The Blacksmith paused at his shop window, pulling a few weapons away from the sill and into his arms. They kept running. Soap passed an axe to Gaz, and they ran first to a house that was lit aflame. A few people were tossing buckets of water, while a woman pulled arrows at a Whispering Death.

Farther away, they heard the crunch and splintering of wood, and Gaz looked over in horror to see the watchtower fall, both the dragon and Price going with it.

"No!" He had screamed, all but dropping his axe as he started running like mad down towards the docks. "Captain!"

"Gaz!" Soap was shouting behind him as a trebuchet fired, throwing a large stone at some dragon above him. "Gaz, look out!"

Large, leathery wings kicked up a storm of dust around him as he was tackled to the ground, rocks digging into his knees and elbows as he fought to get the beast's claws out of his shoulders. It pressed his face into the dirt as he struggled to fight against it. It cut through his shirt, digging straight into his skin. He cried out, fighting against it, but his movement was impaired, he wasn't able to swing his axe around to-

The dragon opened its mouth and screamed, the shriek going directly to his ear drums, and springing the worst headache he'd ever had, his head felt like it was going to explode, he couldn't feel his shoulders. Gaz squeezed his eyes shut, praying to Odin to make it stop, make it-

A dagger sunk directly in between two of its center scales, shocking the dragon into dropping him as it turned on its next enemy. Someone was shouting, but Gaz couldn't get his eyes to focus enough on the figure.

They were waving wildly at the dragon, now weaponless, and shouting for its attention. The dragon cocked its head to the side and stepped over Gaz, who was struggling to stand to his feel, his whole equilibrium thrown off from the noise.

And he glimpsed the the mohawk just behind the scales as the dragon lunged forward, grasping Soap in his claws and shooting off into the air.

"No!! Soap!!" Gaz shouted, chasing after the dragon as it flew. He could just see the outline of Soap, struggling, screaming as the claws pierced his leather armor, sinking into his chest. He was too high, and there was nothing Gaz could do, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't try. He shoved past people, ran through fights, passing the dark clad enemies of Kingfish's men, all while shouting for his friend, never once taking his eyes off the Whispering Death that was slowly growing smaller and smaller in the night sky.

An arrow pierced his shoulder and he cried out, stumbling, but he kept going forward, ducking behind a house. "Soap! Soap!"

A fireball exploded the wall next to him and he hit the wall hard, his consciousness leaving him before he even realized what had happened.

Soap was helpless as he squirmed, gasps being torn from his chest with the leather apron that fell away into the ocean below. He was gonna die, this was it. He couldn't see the island anymore, but he wasn't giving up. And yet this wyrm of a Whisper wouldn't let up, only shrieked until the pounding behind his eyes made him too lightheaded...

He wasn't sure what was happening when he woke up from a faint, but he sure as he'll knew he shouldn't be plummeting to death, rocketing towards the sea below him in a free fall. "Och! Shi-i-i-ite!" He flung himself onto his stomach, spreading his arms and legs apart to catch the air. His braid had come loose, whistling around his ears as the moonlit waves approached him too quickly.

Something else snatched him up like he was free prey and he shouted out again, the wounds on his chest screaming from the strain. His hands scrabbled at the beast's nails that wrapped around both his shoulders, carrying him like he was precious cargo. This was a different dragon, unfortunately for him. It was red, from what he could see, with long claws and a pale underbelly. There were antennae like appendages that dropped off the sides of its head, fading from red to orange to yellow towards the end, like leaves in autumn. But what jarred him the most was the straps of a saddle that tucked underneath its belly, and wrapped up the sides. There were a few ropes attached to the tail and- oh fuck he was falling again.

"No no no no-!" He shouted, flailing in the free air, before he hit something hard beneath him. But he wasnt.... dead...? No, he was sitting-

He was sitting on a dragon.

There was a man who sat in front of him, blond hair peaking out of his hood and helmet. Most of the helmet covered his face, save for the dark brown eyes glaring at him from behind it. In the darkness, the moon light shone off of the raised texture of pale skin that Soap could see, before smoothing off. He'd seen scars like those around the village, but only rarely. People like him never usually survived dragon's fire.

This person wasn't wearing black like Kingfish's men were. Instead, he was wrapped in a camouflage of browns, greens and furs, similarly to the dragon. He was tense, his shoulders bunched up as he glared at Soap, radiating a dark, or in other words, mysteriously powerful energy.

It occurred to him, then, that he wasn't staring at just a dragon rider.

And it occurred to him, then, that they had been wrong.

This.... this was Lieutenant Simon Riley.

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cloudypariah · 4 months

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CoD (Task Force 141) Medieval Fantasy AU

- Forgive me for all the things I did (and did not do). 𑁍 The last thing you ever expected the local blacksmith to do was come to your aid, especially given the reserved demeanour he had during your rare interactions. You certainly didn’t expect him to declare himself your husband, all for the sake of getting the ever persistent local knight off your back. Now you have no choice but to get to know the man behind the mask, and he can’t hide the rest of himself from you any longer. 𑁍 (Blacksmith!Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader)

- Come back, come back (the howl is just a song). 𑁍 The man with the soft smile who lives less than three miles away has always offered his services to you, and you in turn have always repaid his kindness with your own. A basket of fresh bread and cheeses, hand stitched fabrics; whatever you offered in return had always been enough. Except for the day when he says it no longer is, and that his favours require more personal sacrifices. 𑁍 (Dark!Warlock!Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x fem!Reader)

- To know all my secrets bar one. 𑁍 A tale as old as time; you grow up together, your Jonathan leaves to serve in the king’s army, he never comes back, you mourn what once was and what could have been. Many years later another tale makes the rounds in town; whispers of a strange man living deep in the woods - an unhinged hunter who’ll mark anyone for death, friend or foe. There’s a sliver of truth behind each story, but that doesn’t make the situation any less complicated when you meet the ranger that’s got everyone talking. 𑁍 (Ranger!John Price x fem!Reader)

- Both shelter and warning at once. 𑁍 For such a chaotic creature of the forest, all mischievous hedonism and no restraint (or class), Johnny finds that his fancies as of late have turned very… traditional. Those desires are cemented upon seeing you venture a little further into the dense undergrowth than expected. Perhaps if you stopped hitting him with a stick during every single one of your encounters his charm might actually do something to remedy your mutual desires. 𑁍 (Satyr!Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x fem!reader)

Full masterlist here

#cod au #call of duty au #call of duty masterlist #call of duty x reader #masterlist #cloudypariah writes

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homicidal-slvt · 5 months

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Ship me with a cod-ling since that's the only of those fandoms I know lol. Physically I'm a big farm-raised gal and I can lift 275. I like working with animals and blacksmithing and like to hit things with swords and axes. I also like playing games, anything from puzzles to rpgs to military sims to racing. My last major hobby is cooking and baking. Listening to people talk about their interests in depth brings me joy. I've recently been described by an ex as an "unmanageable brat" because I made him *earn* my submission. I'm like 90% asexual: mostly uninterested but willing, with an occasional day of extreme desire. Mostly I just want cuddles and connection.

DISCLAIMER: This is all based on my view of the characters and others are likely to see them differently. If you are unhappy with your result- I'm sorry. <3

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

I feel like he enjoys sex and intimacy but it also isn't a very huge thing for him, he values genuine connection much more and definitely would like to simply lay and hold you most of the time. He's pretty flexible when it comes to sexual stuff and is totally down to go for it but also is chill with going a long time without it.

Hitting things with swords and axes would totally peak his interest- if you'd let him he'd probably teach you shit like axe throwing ect.... Quality bonding time <3

I'm not sure he's the biggest gamer ever but I think he'd sit down and enjoy them sometimes, he'd actually probably prefer calmer games with less fighting. Would like to sit with you and play puzzle games or a farming sim.

Before you he probably didn't cook a whole lot but now he's always in the kitchen- he'll try to learn how to cook just to be with you. He's not the best at that stuff but he tries his best.

He is not one to shy away from earning things- he most certainly wouldn't consider you an unmanageable brat. He's a very careful and considerate partner who would absolutely set boundaries and trust is of the utmost importance, I don't see him as being a very hard dom or overly rough but if it's what you preferred he'd definitely put you in your place... Most of all he'd make the effort to be sure you were comfortable though and take his time. Trust, trust, trust, trust- that's his priority. Your safety and happiness as well as his own.

Simon is great with animals- I just know he is. I see him being good at working with animals that are rescues and have been through bad things. His patience and understanding of how it feels would lead to him being such a good fit for getting animals to trust again or just working in an environment with animals in general.

You being hardworking is majorly attractive- you putting effort into everything you do is probably what draws him to you in the first place.

{I'm like super sleepy while doing these because for some reason I was barely able to sleep last night so if they are a bit off or I get something wrong- lemme know.}

#vee's cod works

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aria-raven · 4 years

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Some OC info

So, I’m doing OC-tober this year. I have a lot of OCs, but I decided not to use too many of them for this, so you’ll see the same characters more than once. I’ve included tiny bits of information about the OCs I’m using below. Not all of these characters are from the same story. (This is pretty long.)

Lark: 23, a mechanic, the leader of a group that goes out to find five hidden crystals.

Cheryl: 25, a bartender, Lark’s best friend.

Willow: 19, a spell caster.

Ariel: 22, has tattoos and eyes that glow in the dark, and is extremely powerful, but only at night

Jacob: 36, the leader of a group of adventurers

Anton: 30, hides a dark past behind an easy-going nature

Benedict: 35, often reckless, but good with weapons

Sophie: 26, haunted by visions of red masks, eventually enters a relationship with Miriam

Felicity: 32, practical, sometimes clashes with Benedict

Reyna: 24, uses a special kind of magic, often the group’s healer

Miriam: 24, also a magic user, but a different kind of Reyna’s, falls in love with Sophie

Dominic: 25, an archer, Adam’s lover

Will and Edith: both 41, members of an organization from Sophie’s past

Adam: 25, Dominic’s lover, uses the same kind of magic as Reyna

Tanya, Michael, Chloe, Jared, Brittany, Vincent, Mayu, and Daniel: Eight high-schoolers with special powers. I’ve created blogs for them, which you can find under “Other stuff” on my main page.

Judith and Victoria: Both 19, meet in college and become girlfriends.

Morgan and Geoff: 24 and 26. A violinist and a pianist who fall in love.

Marius: 23, a cecaelia

Cadence: 22, a banded butterflyfish mermaid

Kyla: 22, a moray eel mermaid

Dana, Katherine, Rachel, and Jillian: All 18, part of a group of friends who end up gaining powers and saving the world.

Isabel: 20, works with gemstones, falls in love with a girl who lives in another city.

Alistair: 40, a stoic blacksmith who takes in Isaac as his assistant, but grows to love him like a son.

Isaac: 16, an orphan who finds a home with Alistair.

Milan: 20, works with ice, bonds with the man he has a crush on under unpleasant circumstances

Casey: 25, finds himself in a love story he couldn’t have imagined

Henry: 152, a ghost from the 1890′s

Theo: 25, Casey’s best friend since childhood

Darcy: 25, a good friend of Valerie’s, a skeptic when it comes to the paranormal

Valerie: 23, a firm believer in the supernatural

Ethan: 24, shy, ends up coming face-to-face with a demonic entity

Alice: 23, Ethan’s friend, tries to protect him when she can sense something’s wrong

Agnes and Peter: 302, 303, both vampires, they go looking for fledgling vampires and help them get through the first stage

Simon: 193, Peter and Agnes’ adoptive son

Jaime and Nathaniel: 25 and 28, they fall in love while Jaime struggles to face his past.

Lysander: 359, was caught in a secret dimension back in the late 1600′s, but eventually released hundreds of years later for some unknown (initially) purpose.

Matilda: 23, a friend of Paris’, eventually learns how to access different worlds

Paris: 23, bookish and interested in the supernatural

Alexander: 197, was trapped in the same dimension as Lysander, and eventually released, begins to develop a relationship with Paris

Veronica: 21, falls in love with a vampire

Florence: 132, a vampire who falls in love with Veronica and tries to protect her from all of the dangers that come their way.

Eric: 112, a vampire, one of Veronica and Florence’s allies, ends up suffering a great tragedy at the hands of their enemies.

Amy and Lydia: Both 21, childhood friends who fell in love as adults, though it took them forever to do something about it.

Riley: 19, disguises herself as a hero named Streetlight while trying to figure out how to cure her mother’s rare illness.

#Let me tell you about my OCs

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