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unreliablesnake · 4 months

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Tough choice (Simon Riley x reader)

Summary: After a successful mission, you get a lot of job offers. But there's one that gets your attention.

Note: We lost a hero, it's hard to fill his shoes. / This will probably get another part where Simon confesses his feelings. And tells the reader about what he thought of them during the first meeting.

Warnings: character death mentioned

Ever since that mission last year, people have been extremely interested in getting you on their side. You were swimming in options, going from briefing to briefing to find that one job which managed to pique your interest. The CIA wanted you higher up the ladder, giving you more responsibilities, while some PMC’s sniffed out what happened and were now trying to sweep you off your feet. Shadow Company offered a fortune for your services, but even Phillip Graves’s charm wasn’t enough to convince you.

And now Laswell brought you an opportunity that made you think. Task force 141. “Ask Alex for reference,” was all she said before handing you the number of Captain John Price.

It took days to get a hold of your friend, but once you did, he spoke highly of the team he helped out every now and then. “I think they need you to fill some big shoes. A sergeant was KIA and now Ghost needs a partner on the field,” he explained.

“Ghost?”

“Mhm. Man’s a mystery, but he’s damn good at what he does. If I were you, I would go for it.”

So you called Price and organized a meeting with him. This was the first round of the interview process, the opportunity to learn more about your possible future boss, the team, and, of course, how they operate. The captain works with a sergeant called Gaz, while Ghost had worked with Soap, another sergeant who had been KIA. That latter you already knew from Alex.

Price told you to visit the base the next time they're all there, and you gladly accepted the invitation. The team’s mystery man, the one you would have to work with, grabbed your attention. His superior spoke highly of him, and the fact Alex also emphasized that he was excellent at what he did made you curious. He certainly lived up to his call sign by keeping his identity so hidden. You didn’t know his name, you didn’t know his age, you didn’t know what he looked like. All you knew is that he was a Brit, just like Price and Gaz.

It took your schedules to align almost four weeks, but eventually you made it to their location and were greeted by the captain as if you were already a member of their team. His warm smile brought one to your lips too, and you soon found yourselves deep in a conversation about Kate and Alex. He liked working with them, and despite Alex being labeled a deserter, the team often crossed paths with him. That was good. Meeting him every once in a while would be nice.

“Ghost is waiting for us in my office,” Price began to say, only to pause for a brief moment when he stopped in front of a door. “But I think I’ll give you two the chance to talk alone. I already told him about you, even mentioned that I want you to work with us, but he has to be the one to finalize our decision.”

Nodding, you waited for him to open the door, then stepped inside the dimly lit room. The window shades were pulled down and the only source of light came from the small lamp on the desk. Ghost was sitting in the swivel chair behind it, his eyes scanning a file that you assumed was yours.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Ghost interrupted you right away. “I want you on my team,” he stated sternly as if it was an order, then threw the file on the top of several other documents.

Despite your best efforts to keep things professional, a snort coming from you filled the room upon hearing his words. “So does everybody else,” you informed him, slowly folding your arms over your chest. “I already turned down several offers. Convince me; why should I pick this team?”

The lieutenant stood up and walked over to you, finally letting you realize just how much bigger he was. He was intimidating, yes, but that didn’t stop you from keeping eye contact with him. “You know Laswell. If you trust her, you can trust us,” he said.

“It’s not a matter of trust.”

“Then what do you want to hear?”

A sigh left your lips. It wasn’t about the money. If it was, you would be working for Shadow Company now. To be honest, you didn’t even know what you wanted from the job. But there was one question that bugged you since you first heard about this guy. “Are you a good person?” you asked him seriously.

Since you could only see a small part of his face, you almost missed that surprised glint in his eyes. “No,” came his answer.

For a few moments you just watched him, thinking about his response. He was honest, that you truly appreciated, but you could hear something in his voice that you couldn’t quite place yet. Regret? Pain? Doubt? Self-hate? Whatever it was, it made him sound and look human. Without realizing what you were doing, you took a step closer to him, making this giant man lean his hips against the desk to build back some distance.

“When can I start?”

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the way his large fingers tightly gripped the edge of the desk at your words, as if he was trying to ground himself. Was he thinking about the sergeant he had lost? If it was you, your mind would always return to the person who died under your command. What if this one dies too? You would be asking yourself this over and over again. So you didn’t want to rush him, you just stood there and waited for him to pull himself together.

And then, after several minutes of deafening silence, he finally spoke up. “Good decision. Price will tell you the details,” Ghost informed you before moving past you to rush out the door.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #modern warfare #call of duty #mw3 #mw2

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gremlins-hotel · 1 year

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From the notes of Capt. Alfred Jones: "Davie was a bus and the 'Flying Fortress' moniker seemed to pass her by, but it was a ship with a brave crew. The trudge of getting back to England from enemy territory is a story for another day. I miss her and sometimes I miss the boys we lost that day."

-✪- -✪- -✪-

B-17F "Dear Davie": *U.S. Army Model B-17F-65-BO Air Corps Serial No. 42-29670 Delivered Cheyenne 31/1/43; Pueblo 18/2/43; Salina 15/2/43; Brookley 19/3/43; Smoky Hill 23/3/43; Dow Field 18/4/43. Assigned to the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group [TS-L] "DEAR DAVIE" 22/4/43; Missing in Action near Hamburg 25/7/43 with Alfred "Comet" Jones, **Co-Pilot: Daryl "Speed" Reed, Navigator: Richard Reed, Bombardier: Charlie Marstaller; Radio Operator: Johnathan Graves, Flight Engineer/Top Turret Gunner: Clyde "Pepsi" Ray, Ball Turret Gunner: William Ortlieb, Waist Gunner: Leslie Lipsey, Waist Gunner: Paul Rapoport, Tail Gunner: Thomas Pugh (6 Killed in Action); "DEAR DAVIE" lost to flak/anti-aircraft fire, crashing near Uetersen, 15 miles NW of Hamburg, Germany.

-✪- -✪- -✪-

[nerd things & acknowledgements below cut]

Notes on the B-17F... The B-17F was an upgrade of the previous E model, with several notable changes: A one- or two-piece plexiglas nose cone, as opposed to the ten-paneled cone of previous versions. Reinforced landing gear allowed for a greater maximum payload, from 4,200 lb (1,900 kg) of ordnance to 8,000 lb (3,600 kg). Flight and combat range of the F model was improved by 900 mi (1,400 km) with the addition of nine self-sealing rubber fuel cells in the wing root, aka, "Tokyo tanks". The F model was generally characterized by being tail-heavy - which lead to part failure - and woefully undefended from the front; the early F models had no front-facing armament, leaving a 60° blind spot to the direct front of the aircraft - a flaw which was exploited by German pilots, who held air superiority. Later F models would see a list of possible available modifications (factory and field) such as inserting two .50 caliber machine guns into the nose cone to solve the blind spot. Other modifications to later F models were bulged cheek turrets, as opposed to the window-mounted guns of earlier iterations, and the available addition of the iconic "Bendix" chin turret. The chin turret is far more common on the subsequent G "gunship" variant. ("Dear Davie" is an early F model without the nose mount, bulged cheeks, or chin turret.)

*This model production block, serial no., and fate are borrowed from real-life B-17F #42-29670, "Thundermug." "Thundermug" was an aircraft that originally served in the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group alongside my great-grandfather and his usual steed, "The Gremlins Hotel." It was transferred to the 544th BS/384th BG, at which point it went Missing in Action over Hamburg from flak/aa-fire; 8 of its crew became POWs while 2 were KIA. I have had the honor to speak to descendants of both of its crews and help them research "Thundermug"; I wish to voice a mere glimpse of their stories in a unique way.

**All names of Alfred's crew are either cobbled-together family names throughout our history here or entirely fictitious - though some were inspired by real people whom I grew up with stories of. All inspirations were individuals that lived good lives post-war.

#alpha romeo tango #gremlin's things with wings #alfred f. jones // daring to fly #hetalia #historical hetalia #hetalia headcanons #aph america #hws america #alfred f jones #hey guys crucify me if you must #i'm really proud of this drawing #but i also understand it's pretty nerdy and the headcanon does deal with something a little tragic #but i'm hurling this to tumblr motherless and fatherless for your judgment #this took a few hours haha #love you guys for real #i really love bombers guys sorry for being autistic on main

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kana-de · 9 months

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UR REQS ARE OPEN OH MY FUCK!!

uhm so hahaha so uhm hahaha giggles..

harbinger!reader x harbinger!scara and reader is a higher rank than scara and just scara just lovesss the fact that he can turn his "superior" into a mess <33

i love ur writing btw, explodes

★ summary: harbinger!scaramouche x harbinger!fem!reader. he loves seeing his lovely superior a whining, crying, moaning mess. and all because of him.

☆ cw: nsfw. reader is the 3rd harbinger (sorry columbina). power play. power kink (?). humiliation (use of 'pathetic', 'whore', 'slut'). use of 'good girl'. overstimulation. multiple orgasms (reader). creampie. implied cunnilingus at the end. scara basically fucks you - a superior harbinger - into oblivion. 757 words.

☾ a/n: oh. my. fucking. god. this is absolutely my fav fic prompt so far, i don't know why i never came up with it... ily kia. i absolutely love the harbinger x harbinger au. dissipates into atoms. i dont want this to flop PLEASE.

in the fatui's eyes, in the harbingers' eyes, in the tsaritsa's eyes you were brighella - the owner - the third harbinger. but in scaramouche's eyes you were...

"what a pathetic slut." scaramouche hisses once you cum on his fingers yet again, a broken whine leaving your lips.

this is only your third orgasm, and you're already looking so fucked out - glassy, teary eyes, flushed face, hair messy and sprawled all over the pillow, voice nearly breaking at each small whine and whimper you make when he curls his digits against your sweet spot, purposely overstimulating you.

"n- not- nghh... 's too much..." you cry out, voice almost raspy because of how often you moaned, throat basically sore.

" 'not' what? not a pathetic little whore?" he taunts, tips of his fingers searching for your cervix, reaching deep inside your cunt, enveloped by your clenching walls. "i didn't even get to stuff you full of my cock, and it's already 'too much'? you're getting weaker, [name]..."

you only have the strength to muffle a mewl that escapes your throat as his fingers leave your cunt, your slick all over his digits as he licks his fingers clean, humming at the thought of how delicious you taste - he'll definitely fuck you with his tongue once more this night. just for confirmation.

"look at yourself. a mess, aren't you?" scaramouche coos into your ear, sending shivers down your spine for the nth time, his hands coming to your hips as he proceeds to lower his mouth to your collarbone, sucking on the skin there - you have no energy to scold him for leaving marks on visible places - making small, violet hickeys, which in the morning will be a pretty bordeaux covering your neck all over.

he chuckles in your other ear, exhaling slowly. "the 3rd of 11, but so, so, so... easy." he taunts you with his sultry voice, a tad bit of mockery in it. he could fuck you into oblivion again and again and again if it meant seeing you in this fucked out state each time.

the next thing you feel is the tip of his cock that presses to the entrance of your pussy, and you let out a low moan, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to bring him closer, your unsteady hands coming to hold his shoulders. he thrusts for the first time, setting a rigid and erratic pace as he grunts into the crook of your neck. you mewl and whine at every thrust of his, basically melting into him.

"f-fuck, look at me, [name]." scaramouche breathes out, one of his hands coming to your face to move away your hand that hides away your flushed face and swollen from biting them lips. he grits his teeth, muffling a moan as he realises how fucking good you feel around his cock. "i want to see this pathetic expression on you for a little longer. keep looking up at me, slut."

"s-scara- k-kuni... mmngh- t' much..." you whinge, feeling his hips slamming into yours frantically. you clench around him even more at his words, letting out a sentence that he's unable to understand because of how your voice breaks into moans every time he thrusts into you. your hands subconsciously squeeze his shoulders a little tighter, nails leaving small scratching marks on his skin, the burning sensation making him groan.

"be a good fucking girl and cum on my cock. you can do that, yeah? c'mon..." scaramouche brings the tips of his fingers to your aching clit, rubbing it in circles as he soon feels your cunt clamp more and more on his length, him hitting your sweet spot just under the right angle.

your eyelids shut closed as you feel another orgasm nearing, erratic breaths leaving your mouth as well as sloppy whimpers and moans. "s-scarascarascarascara- f-fuck- nghh, i'm c-cumming.. cumming, hhah-!.."

you cum just when scaramouche releases inside you, his seed painting the walls of your pussy white. he fucks his cum into you through sloppy thrusts, not letting any drop leak out as you've stopped trying to muffle your little cries and mewls, teary eyes struggling to look up at him.

"the fact that i can turn my superior into a whining, crying, moaning mess is what i wake up for every morning." he says, letting out a breathy laugh, pulling out of you, and wiping away the small tears from the corners of your eyes. "now, spread your legs a bit more, i want to taste that pretty cunt of yours again."

#scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche x you #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #scara x reader #scara x you #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x you #kunikuzushi x you #genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #kunikuzushi smut

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nothingkillsyoulikeyourmind105 · 9 months

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“Chaos Was Her Name”

Chapter One Chapter Two

Pairing- Konig x reader *call sign (phantom)*

Summary- König has been going to therapy for his depression and self isolation. That lands him in the therapists office when one mission goes wrong. But his whole world is gonna be turned upside down. Recently joining the 141 Task Force he keeps to himself. But things are gonna change.

TW-Mentions Blood, Death, Unprotected P in V Sex, Size Kink, Fluff, Pining, Some Angst, Lack of Sleep, Comforting, Praising Kink. Obsessive! König!

A/N- artwork credit to @ave661 . Watermarks are present in the artwork. Floral dividers are from @saradika

“How long are you gonna wait for her?”

Therapist glances to König.

“She told me she didn’t like me back. I cared so deeply for her and she pushed me away and left me”

“It’s been 5 years since she was declared dead”

“Nein, she isn’t to me.”

“König, when you received the news you were there to view the body. Is that right?”

“Ja.”

“And you made a positive I.D on the body. You did let your superior know that the person they brought back from the field was her.”

“Nein, I didn’t make the call. One of the TF guys called it for me. I- I uh I couldn’t cope with it. I dream of her. I see her around base she runs and hides from me.”

“When I wake up she’s gone. And everyone keeps reminding me she’s not real.”

“I could never be more alone without her here”

“Her name was Sergeant Sarah Smith”

“Don’t say her name”

“When I dream of her she runs away, but the moment she sees me she’s scared of me.”

“König your obsession with Sergeant Smith was something we discussed before her untimely death.”

“Ja”

“Your obsession with Sergeant Sarah have they been laid to rest since her passing”

“Ja”

“So I heard there are new recruits coming in from another private military base”

“Just three people their from Kortac the private military company I use to work for.”

“Okay have you met them yet. Remember we’re to work on our social skills and interactions with other members of the team and your superiors.”

“Ja, I remember”

König fiddle with his gloves looking down at the hem of his mask. Picking at the loose thread that dangled. Pulling on it his mind wondered. Thinking about Sarah and how she looked at him when he confessed his love to her. The look of disgust and rejection written on her face. That hurt more then anything.

König avoided her after that incident. Thinking about the day she was KIA out on the field. He did shed a few tears but his heart hurt. The feeling of rejection was all too familiar for him.

Thinking back when he was a child in Austria. The way everyone bullied him for his face and height. He did have one friend but that friend moved away to the states leaving him alone.

König as a child often sat alone on the playground watching the other children play and giggle on the school yard.

Watching all his classmates playing with one another but his heart long for the girl with the bluest eyes like the ocean. Her golden hair that was split into two braids that framed her pretty freckled face.

Watching her from afar made his little heart flutter.

König would pick flowers for her on his way to school and leave them on her desk in the morning. He wait around the corner waiting for her to see the flowers.

The way she smell them and smile made his heart skip a beat. He would write little notes with poetry and leave them on her desk. Watching her read them she would smile and run to her friends holding the flowers and notes.

Watching all her friends gather around her smiling and giggling about the notes and flowers. König wanted to confess his love to his crush. She made his cheek burn so much he had to hide his face in the crooks of his arms.

But his moment was ruined when Hans ran over to his crush tagging her back and running off with his friends.

Hans was König classmate that bullied him often. He tried to be his friend in the beginning but Hans always made fun of his height and called him nasty names.

König kept his distance when it came to playing outside on the school yard. He would sit under the trees watching everyone play and socialize.

He longed to be included on the games. The only time anyone would talk to him was the bullies.

They would throw rocks at him when he walked home. Never fighting back he simply ignored it walking home. The name calling hurt him the most. When arriving home he dust himself off before walking inside to greet his Mother and Oma.

König fathers was a Colonel in the Military but he sadly passed away while on a mission when he was only 9 years old. König always looked up to his father although his father was very tough on him. He admired his father accomplishments. He often daydreamed he would one day become a Colonel just like his father.

“Hallo Mutter, wo ist Oma?”

“Mein Schatz, du bist zu Hause, wie war die Schule? Oma ist im Garten.”

“Gut"

König nodding his head to his mom holding his school bag storing it away wiping the dust from his cheek. Walking to the kitchen he kissed his mothers cheek, smiling to her taking a Apfelstrudel from the counter taking a bite, thanking his mother before walking out the back door.

Walking past the rose bushes his mother planted, to find his oma sitting under the tree his opa planted for his oma.

Sighing with a heavy heart he put on a fake smile walking over to his oma. Before he could say anything she already knew he tried to sneak up on her.

“Mein kleiner Bär, komm raus, ich weiß, dass du zurück bist.”

His Oma already knew König was sneaking up behind her. She smiled and waved to him to come over to her.

König walked over looking down at his leather brown shoes.

“Sind es wieder die Tyrannen, mein kleiner Bär?”

König nodding his head in shame. Sighing heavily he bursted into tears hugging his Oma tightly. Wiping his face into her blouse and cardigan. His small cries and whimper’s muffled in her chest.

“Oma why am I different?”

“You’re special my little bear. Your grandfather named you my little king. You’re a special kind young boy that will grow into a wonderful young man.”

“Oma, there’s a girl I like in my class I want to tell her but I’m scared she might get scared of me.”

“König, one day you’ll meet a special girl that will love you for you. If she can’t see the sweet loving boy I see now then she isn’t one.”

Those words echoed in his memories of home. All throughout his teenage years König was faced with rejection. The memories of the disgusted look on all their faces made his heart break. All that was left was the shell of the sweet loving boy that his mother and oma saw. König often paid for sex when he was off duty.

Meaningless sex meant nothing to him. Keeping the hood on often made the sex workers nervous of him. He pay them and lay in his bed unsatisfied with the sex. He wanted someone to lay with him to hold his heart and hopefully one day take the mask off.

He often found himself longing for a loving warm embrace. He would often watch the new recruits walk around base. Somedays he would often jerk off in the showers thinking of some of the female recruits awhile they exercised. After squirting the walls and his hands with his thick ropes of cum. Looking at the water washing away all the cum off his hands. The shame would overcome him.

Finishing up his showers he would walk back to his room his head hanging with shame.

“König?”

“Ja”

“Our session is finished for today. Would you like to schedule another session for another day next week?”

“Ja”

“What day will work for you?”

“Can I get back to you on that Doctor?”

“Sure König, my door is always open and give us a call as well we can discuss more over the phone if you like?”

With a smile the therapist clicked her pen and closed her notebook. Walking to the door she opened it for him allowing him to leave her office. She sighed as he left. Exhausted for the day and all the sessions she had to take on for the day. König was a very unique case.

Clicking her pen she takes a seat looking out the window jolting down her notes.

König had developed a obsession with one of the new recruits that had an untimely death. This loss had thrown him off his feet landing right into my chairs. He’s being put on temporary leave for the time being. His superiors put him on watch for the first few nights. Looking over his record on the field he has never failed a mission nor lost anyone. But this one particular mission that ended with 5 soldiers killed on the field under someone else command made his mind wander off. He started to self isolate and fell into a deep depression. I’ve seen this a few other times but König is a Hound of Love. Something in his childhood must’ve started this conquest of searching for love. He looks for love in the many faces of his fellow comrades. This is something he has acknowledge and he is willing to work for the time being. But we are making progress on moving past this grieving period. And coming to acceptance with Sergeant Smith death. He’s starting to share a bit more in our therapy sessions.

I will make note to his superiors that König is cleared for active duty in a few days. After our last meeting which is next week. He will be cleared to go back out on the field.

A Few Days Later

“König wheels up in 20”

One of the privates knocked on his door frame.

Nodding his head he stood up from his bed sighing looking at his gloved hands reaching down to pick up his gear bag. Walking out with his weapon strapped to his chest and his side arms all in there holsters. Listening to Price and Ghost talk about the mission. The operators they we’re receiving from his old employers were sending over three operators to assist in this mission.

Listening to the briefing again he board the plane storing his gear away. Taking his seat looking down at his boots and knees he looked around staring at all the soldiers who sat in silence. His mind often wandered to love.

“Was he not capable of love?”

“Why did all his past crushes all repulsed by him and especially when they asked about his face and hood.”

Lost in his thoughts hours had gone by and the turbulence of the plane jolted him up from his dark thoughts. But his mind often wander to Sergeant Smith.

The way she looked at him when he admitted his feelings to her and the flowers she stepped on before crushing his heart.

His heart broke.

All those sleepless night thinking of her.

“Why am I a hound for love. I search and search for it and come up empty handed.”

As the hatch opens the rush of cold air chills everyone to the bone. But for König his heart was already broken and cold. His cold lifeless eyes burned with bloodlust. Gathering his gear he walked out sweeping the area waiting for everyone to get into position.

The rumbling of the aircraft lifting away rumbling his chest and awakening his inner beast for bloodlust.

Listening to Ghost mission objectives. König couldn’t focus enough looking down at the ground covered in snow. Flipping the switch on his radio the static came rushing through and the sounds of a women singing softly piqued his interest. Looking up and listening closely to his radio he confirmed his suspicions.

Ghost listened to his radio.

“That’s our sign let’s move”

Moving as one they made their way around the buildings that were left in ruins. The smell of smoke and gunpowder filled his senses. Watching the snow fall to the ground he didn’t see or hear someone get the drop on him.

Falling forward to the ground he felt a cold sharp blade pressing against his mask on his neck.

“Scheiße!”

“Move again and that will be the last thing you do”

“Phantom! Let him up”

The familiar sound of the deep voice resonated in Königs mind.

“Aksel”

“König!”

König stood up dusting himself off he walked over to the large man hidden in the shadows. Aksel emerged from the darkness hand extended out. König grasped his hand aggressively the two men laughed and smiled to each other.

“It’s been too long Brother”

“Ja, too long Tor”

“I didn’t know you were coming here. Captain Price informed me that you overseas busy with another mission.”

“Nein Brother. We finished early”

“Let me introduce you to my fellow operators. This is Sebastian and this is (y/n).”

Emerging from the darkness stood Sebastian and by his side stood a goddess.

“This is Krueger and I’m Phantom”

“Aksel we don’t go by our formal names!”

“This is König”

Aksel chuckled at her little outburst and brushed it off as he continued his conversation with his friend König.

There she stood the goddess that graced him with her spitfire attitude. She had a covering that covered her face. Her eyes sparkled under the moonlight she looked up to him holding a rifle on her back that was almost as big as her.

“Phantom back to your position. Krueger go with her we rotate in 3 hours we leave at dawn. The snowstorm is supposed to hit in a few hours.”

“Come inside brother we have much to discuss.”

König walked beside Aksel but he was so enamored by her the way she sighed and rolled her eyes. Her spitfire attitude made his heart flutter but his cock quiver.

Krueger was quick to notice the way König was staring at her as they walked away. Krueger laid his hand on her back as they walked away. König clenched his fist swallowing harshly his cock quivered more leaking precum from watching her walk away and the way Krueger laid his hand on her back as they walked away together.

“Phantom, but her name sounds so sweet rolling off my tongue and lips (y/n)”

König listened to the conversation but his sight wandered to her small form as she sat by the window. The cold winter breeze chilled her she shivered slightly. Keeping her rifle next to her she felt someone presence behind her before she could react she felt someone drape a coat over her back.

“Oh?”

“It’s okay, I’m fine.”

“Nein, it’s freezing tonight. It’s a bit hot wearing my jacket too.”

She looked back into the street and keeping her gaze out there she smiled to herself and pulling his jacket more closer to herself. Inhaling the smell of his jacket was very pleasant. It smelled clean with a hint of floral scent. She smiled slightly.

“Thank you”

She whispered to him as she shifted slightly in her position. König smiled under his mask and stood up leaving her alone on watch. Walking back to Aksel he looked at him shaking his head walking back to the fire sitting beside him.

Aksel glanced at him. Giving him a smirk. König scoffed at him and pulled a cloth from his chest pocket and started to clean his gun. Glancing at her every so often she stayed perfectly still with his jacket covering her. It warmed his heart. But deep down his cock throbbed for release. Shifting himself as he sat trying to sit comfortably while watching his goddess stay warm under his jacket.

That’s was enough for him for now.

A/N-I do not claim credit for the artwork. I do try to credit the source. I do apologize in advance if I offended anyone. I am so sorry to whoever I offended. I will do better for the future.

#cod konig #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig smut #konig imagine #konig #konig cod #Aksel cod #Tor Aksel Eriksen #cod krueger #cod x reader #krueger cod #sebastian krueger #sebastian krueger x reader #pining

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lanabenikosdoormat · 2 months

Text

JED MASTERPOST

Fast on his feet with an even sharper mind, Jed worked as a cipher agent for the Galactic Empire. Under the alias Cipher Nine - he was a prodigal secret weapon for the Empire's goals. As time passed, so did the stakes. When Imperial Intelligence disbanded, Jed found himself pursuing more independent ventures, outsourcing his work to broader horizons. He garnered quite a lofty reputation.

Through his extraordinary acts, Jed rose through the ranks, becoming a leading figure in the war that later broke out between the two superpowers. He would eventually become known as the Outlander and later, The Alliance Commander and serves as my main OC, not just for SWTOR - but my artist career as a whole.

MOST OF THIS IS PULLED DIRECTLY FROM HIS TOYHOUSE, WHICH CAN BE FOUND BELOW AND IS MORE COMPREHESIVE

BIO BELOW THE CUT!

Overview:

Full Name: Jedidiah Solaris

Alias: Cipher Nine, Commander Solaris, The Outlander, "The Ginger" (belovingly by friends)

Age: 35 around Onslaught

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay, Biromantic

Mental Conditions: OCD, PTSD

Birthday: March 20th, 11 BTC

Birthplace: Sacorria, Corellian Sector

Species/Race: Human - Augmented with cybernetics

Occupation: Alliance Commander

Status: Engaged (Theron Shan)

Design:

Height: 6'0

Weight: 168 lbs

Body Type: Athletic, inverted triangle

Eye Color: Medium Brown (right eye is a prosthetic and is red)

Cybernetics: Mostly internal but there are two peaking out from the side of his head, just above the top of his ears.

Features: High cheekbones, scar through right eyebrow, clean shaven, well groomed, handsome. Personal hygiene is a high priority.

Markings: Various scars, faint freckles in summer seasons, bruised knuckles

Relationships:

Family: Deceased. KIA on Sacorria during the skirmish.

Love Interests: Hunter ✞ (Enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits type situationship), Theron Shan (Fiancé)

Friends/Allies: Closest friend is Lana Beniko. Additionally close with various others including Vector Hyllus, Koth Vortena, Arcann Tiral and the Them Group (OC group consisting of four of my irl friends ocs and my own sith warrior as follows: Verity Dante, Exxus Gun, LIX, and Obi-Two)

Personality:

He is both practical and visionary as well as a staunch realist. He is imaginative and eloquent, able to problem solve and get himself and his team out of tight situations.

As a leader, he is disciplined and thorough, leaving no stone unturned. Jed is strongly independent and is opposed to authority that he doesn't respect.

Background (pre-imp agent campaign and expacs):

As a young child, Jedidiah came from a tiny community of modest agriculturalists. For the first seven years of his life, he lived fair off. However, war struck and their little slice of the galaxy was caught in the crossfire. Jed was struck by blaster fire, directly in his right side of his skull. The wound was lethal and desperately his mother took a final stand to carry him to the Imperial outpost stationed on the planet. Because of his late uncle's contributions to the Empire, Jed was able to be taken into Imperial custody on one condition: he was never to return home again.

For the next 12 or so years, Jed was stationed on Ziost and Dromound Kaas interchangeably as he completed his initiation and mandatory military training. His superiors noticed he had a natural affinity for sneaking around in the shadows, as well as persuasion and ruthlessness. As such, at the age of just 14, he was transferred to the Imperial Intelligence division where he would begin training as an agent of the Empire.

Other Information:

Likes:

Killing Time

Sharpshooting

Revenge

Physical Touch

Dislikes:

Sucking Up

Unwarranted violence

The Sith

Helplessness

Hobbies:

Dejarik

Target Practice

Reading

Binge watching holo-dramas

Gambling

Social Drinking

Habits: Finger flexing, Pacing

Trivia:

He is ambidextrous, and uses a variety of different weapons depending on the given scenario.

Jed is excellent with kids and animals, he gets very soft and sweet and knows just what to say to them, especially in times of distress.

His favorite color used to be navy, and he'd wear it a lot in his downtime. However, these days its the red color of Theron's jacket as seeing it always reminds Jed of him.

#star wars the old republic #swtor #imperial agent #jed solaris #oc: jed solaris #swtor art #swtor imperial agent #character template ib my mootie vexa-legacy

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zeldynymph · 6 months

Text

"Where winter never rests..."

Wholesome content Swearing

Enjoy! <3

“When the time is right…find me where winter never rests…”

Gary stood at the precipice of uncertainty, grappling with the profound void that enveloped him; emotionally adrift and physically adrift as well. All that lingered in his possession was a faint whisper, a fleeting clue to YN's elusive whereabouts, leaving him haunted by the fear of never reuniting with her.

He comprehended her motives for departing, resonating deeply with her weariness of the ceaseless and interminable conflict. However, the enigma behind her decision to stage her own demise eluded his understanding.

His recollections were confined to an explosive moment, a deafening roar, and the calamitous collapse of a structure burying YN beneath its weight. He bore witness to the official report, the declaration of her demise; marked as KIA in an instant.

Apart from Gary, only Captain Price was privy to YN's elaborate scheme from its inception, granting her unequivocal authority while temporarily suspending her status. He knew all too well that wherever YN ventured, adversaries would follow, meeting their demise at her hands.

Undeterred by Price's warnings, Gary remained resolute in his quest to reunite with YN, willing to vanish into the night like a phantom, mirroring YN's elusive departure. Yet, this wasn't a tale of saccharine romance; it was a visceral testament to reality; a man driven by an unyielding desire to reunite with his beloved, the woman whose essence had captivated him repeatedly.

In a firm resolve, he packed his belongings, the once-familiar confines of his barracks room and locker now reduced to hollow echoes of their former existence.

“Gary, please. Rethink your decision… YN left for your safety…”

“Respectfully, I don’t give two fucks, Price. I NEED to find her…”

Gary anticipated the inevitable reprimand that would follow his candid exchange with a superior. Nevertheless, his longing to reunite with YN eclipsed any fear of consequences. The mere thought of her hand in his, nestled safely within his embrace, was an anchor of solace in his turbulent world.

YN's sudden disappearance had morphed into an all-consuming abyss within Gary's mind. Had he not been privy to her true intentions, he might have assumed her departure signalled a loss of affection toward him.

Despite an inner turmoil urging him to resent her departure, he found himself incapable of harbouring such sentiments. YN occupied a place in his heart that surpassed mere affection; she had become the very essence and purpose of his existence.

“Goodbye, Price. If anyone asks, I died from a broken heart…”

As the seasons shifted and time raced by in a blur, Gary remained resolute in his determination to locate YN before the year drew to a close.

Reflecting on his parting exchange with Price, Gary couldn't shake the sense that his words might have carried a hint of melodrama. Nonetheless, he dismissed any lingering concern over his tone. His focus was unwavering, anchored by a singular motive, unclouded by any other objective.

Find YN.

Gary had traversed boundaries he never envisioned crossing, pushing the limits he once deemed insurmountable. His relentless pursuit took him from the remote outback of Australia to the tranquil yet elusive Pacific island of Kiribati, then onwards to the harsh and unforgiving tundra of Greenland. Every corner of the globe became a canvas for his search; every high point, every crevice meticulously scrutinised.

But as December dawned, a cloak of disillusionment, anxiety, and, most venomously, fury enshrouded him. He seethed with self-directed animosity for not uncovering YN's whereabouts sooner, for failing to stand by her side, and above all, for letting her depart in the first place.

With December 8th looming, a mere 23 days until the completion of the Earth's orbit, Gary grappled with the impending dissolution of his promise; a promise to find YN that was on the brink of shattering into mere fragments of a futile dream.

It took Gary months to decipher the cryptic clue YN had left behind: "Where winter never rests." Yet, upon its revelation, a surge of hope coursed through him, reigniting his fading determination. His resolve was rekindled, burning brighter than ever before.

“Please be here…”

His frame quivered with the biting chill, navigating the unforgiving snowy landscape of Svalbard. Each step burdened by snow clinging to his boots and clothing, coating even his eyebrows, lashes, and the stubble adorning his chin with a delicate frost.

Submerged in temperatures well below freezing, his physical form numbed, yet an internal fire blazed within, defying the cold's grasp. Hope, fervent and unwavering, illuminated his path like a beacon mirroring the ethereal dance of the Northern Lights in the night sky.

Guided by the celestial stars above, he pressed on, a relentless march, one foot preceding the other.

The relentless snowfall had long since concealed his trail. Gary comprehended that if YN remained elusive, his exhaustive efforts would amount to naught. Yet, he adamantly clung to hope, afraid that a single misstep could whisk YN away, her essence dissolving into the snowy expanse.

His lungs seared, pleading for respite from the frigid assault. Temptation flirted with his resolve, dangling the option of relinquishing his quest, of turning back and concluding the search entirely.

Then, a silhouette emerged, bathed in the celestial glow of the Northern Lights. Their gaze skyward, surrounded by falling snow, evoking an otherworldly presence.

In an instant, determination surged through Gary's veins. With unwavering resolve, he sprinted toward the figure, his feet sinking into the deep, unforgiving snow with each determined stride.

“You found me…”

Gary enveloped YN in a tight embrace, their bodies collapsing into the snowy expanse, his lips instinctively seeking hers in a rush of affection. Despite a tumult of emotions surging within him; desire to vent his frustrations, a yearning to shout or even resent her; he found himself incapable of such sentiments. He had found her, at long last…

YN's lips retained the familiar sensation he had longed for. Her warmth radiated just as he had etched in his memory. Her tender caress echoed the love he had missed intensely.

Gary teetered on the brink of tears, yearning to release his pent-up emotions, finding solace in her embrace. Reunited with the core of his existence, his beloved YN, she was his anchor in a world of uncertainty.

Gradually pulling back, Gary cupped YN's cheek tenderly, locking eyes with an unwavering commitment and devotion that spoke volumes before uttering all but four words…

“I have found you…”

#cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #call of duty mwii #roach #gary roach sanderson #roach x reader

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kaar-ne · 1 year

Text

SoapGhost

Five days after Hassan was KIA...

“Understood?” Ghost said.

“Sir, yes sir!” his team answered.

“Dismissed”, Ghost said.

“Yes, sir!” was the answer and Ghost watched as his team dispersed each to their own way.

All except for one. The one who was silent the entire time.

Soap.

Ghost glanced at the other man who seemed to be... absentminded. Distracted. Distant, even. He wondered what’s going on.

“Sargent MacTavish”, Ghost said.

Soap snapped out of it and blinked and looked up at Ghost, “Sir?”

“You in there?” Ghost asked as he stepped in front of Soap.

“Yes, sir”, Soap answered quietly. Unusual for him.

Ghost squinted and tilted his head ever so slightly, “A word with you.”

“With all due respect, sir”, Soap said quietly, “that won’t be necessary.”

“Wasn’t a request”, Ghost said.

“Sir, I assure you I’m fine”, Soap said, this time his voice was a bit louder.

“And I assure you, sergeant, that I can see you’re not”, Ghost said, “Those eyebags have their own luggage.”

Soap clenched his teeth together, his jaw flexing. He really didn’t want to talk right now. So, he looked down, “I’m requesting permission to be dismissed, sir.”

“Denied”, Ghost said, getting fed up with Soap’s attitude.

And Soap was fed up with Ghost’s prying so he took his own leave, turning his back to his commanding officer.

“MacTavish!” Ghost barked, “You get back here! I wasn’t done with you!”

“Order ignored, sir”, Soap said as he exited the briefing room.

“Fucking hell...” Ghost growled to himself. If it was anybody else ignoring his orders, that someone would’ve gotten into trouble.

—

Soap headed to the gym to let out some steam. He closed off the surrounding world and focused on the punching bag in front of him. He tried to block his racing thoughts that only fueled his assault on the bag; his punches and kicks grew sloppier and more aggressive with each blow.

There were few others at the gym with him and they noticed his performance. They also noticed how pissed off Soap looked so they didn’t dare to go to him and say that at that rate, he’ll either knock the punching bag from its hook and break something or get himself hurt. So, they just let him be and left the gym silently, not wanting to be the next target of Soap’s foul mood.

Not realising he’s alone, Soap continued venting his bad feeling onto the punching bag until he felt sharp pain shooting up from his right hand. He winced and stopped, panting harshly. He looked at his hand and flexed it and his wrist to see or feel if anything broke. Probably just a bad form...

He sighed and slumped down onto the floor, his back against the wall. Physically venting his emotions like this had always helped him but... not this time. He let his gaze wander around the gym; onto the walls, the ceiling, the equipment...

He then looked out the window and saw Ghost walk past. Fuck. Hopefully the man didn’t notice Soap... Bet Lt. was pissed off as well at Soap for ignoring his orders...

But Ghost walked past without noticing Soap and the man sighed in relief. He closed his eyes. He was so tired... He hadn’t been able to sleep properly since their last mission. Not that it was unheard of him having insomnia after a mission but... this time it was because of nightmares.

He hadn’t had nightmares in a long while.

He sat there for a moment longer before picking himself up from the floor and leaving the gym. What he didn’t expect was Ghost standing in front of the gym door.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus!” Soap gasped, “Ghost, you cunt!”

“Thought you’d be here”, Ghost said, unfazed by Soap getting startled.

“What do ya want?” Soap asked, not looking at Ghost.

“Talk”, Ghost said. He’s not letting Soap get away this time. He wants to get to the bottom of Soap’s behaviour and try to help him, “Now.”

Ghost’s voice left no room for argument.

“Yes, sir”, Soap sighed quietly and followed his superior officer.

They left the base and found a secluded spot. Ghost sat down on a crate and gestured Soap to take a seat as well but the man just stood there, the distant look back on his face again.

“Alright”, Ghost sighed, “What’s gotten your ballsack in a twist?”

“Sir?” Soap said, looking at Ghost with a slight frown.

“First, cut that crap”, Ghost said, “Second, I asked what’s wrong with you. You’ve been quiet for days. Barely said anything to anybody which is very unlike you and you’ve haven’t done your duties. This was the first day I saw you after the mission. Somethin’s botherin’ ya. Now spill it.”

Soap sighed. He knew there’s no point in hiding anything from Ghost. The man would know one way or another eventually.

“Just... had a few rough days, is all”, he said, picking at his nail.

“Everybody has rough days”, Ghost says, “Sit down.”

This time, Soap did sit down. Though, his posture was hunched and his elbows rested heavily on his knees.

“What’s going on?” Ghost asked again.

Soap didn’t say anything. Ghost said nothing for a moment, either. He glanced up at a passing soldier and then looked back at Soap.

“Johnny.”

Ghost’s voice was stern but... it was also soft. Which was very uncharacteristic for such a man with a bad reputation.

That made Johnny look up at Ghost.

“Tell me what’s going on”, Ghost said, “You’ve been MIA since Hassan was killed and you’ve ignored your duties.”

You’ve ignored me went unsaid.

Johnny bit the inside of his cheek, his hands clenched into fists.

“I haven’t slept since the mission”, he said quietly, his hands relaxing.

“Because...?” Ghost asked.

“Nightmares”, Johnny said.

“Everybody has those”, Ghost said.

“Aye. ‘guess so”, Johnny said and looked down at his hands that hung limply, “This one, though... keeps recurring. The same one...”

Ghost merely hummed. He lifted his mask to reveal his lips and nose and then pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket and a lighter. He took a cigarette between his lips and offered the pack to Johnny who also took a cigarette. Then, Ghost put the pack back in his pocket and lit Johnny’s cigarette before doing the same to his own. Both men inhaled and puffed out smoke almost at the same time.

Johnny rubbed his palms against his thighs as he straightened up and leaned back against the wall behind him. He took the cigarette from his mouth before he spoke, “Look, I... I don’t wanna bother you, sir. This isn’t your problem. I... I’ll deal with it.”

“Care to even tell me what the nightmare is about?” Ghost asked.

Johnny took another deep inhale from his cigarette and flicked the ash off from the tip, “I...” he started, trying to find his words, “In the nightmare, I keep doing the same thing I did in the mission. I snatch the case, run to safety, put in the code and run into Hassan, get injured and caught... but you’re not there to kill Hassan and I fall off the building. The way I fall off... has been different each night...”

Ghost listened in silence before speaking, “Good thing I was there in real life, then.”

Johnny nods a little and takes a new inhale from his cigarette, “Aye...”

After a moment of silence, of them both just smoking their cigarettes, Ghost opened his mouth and said, “I’ll make it better for you.”

“That a threat?” Johnny said.

“A promise”, Ghost said.

Another snort from Johnny, “Fine”, he said, took a final inhale from his cigarette before putting it out on the crate.

—

Later that night, Johnny was dead tired. More so than previous nights. He felt like falling asleep standing on his feet. He brushed his teeth and washed his face before shuffling towards the bed. But he didn’t get far from the bathroom when Simon pinned him to the wall and started kissing his neck.

Johnny just stood there, arms hanging at his sides.

“Turn around”, Simon murmured in Johnny’s ear.

Johnny obeyed and turned his back to Simon and the taller man grabbed his hips and pressed against him. Johnny merely sighed.

“Not in the mood, Simon”, he mumbled, “‘m tired...”

Simon stopped immediately and turned Johnny to look at him. The smaller man looked back up at him with sad eyes and... moved past him towards the bed.

“Night...” Johnny said quietly.

Simon watched as Johnny climbed in bed and curled up under the blanket. Never a good sign. He came over to the bed and sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over Johnny who had the blanket pulled up to his ears so that Simon could only see him from eyebrows up.

“Johnny...” Simon said softly and pulled the blanket down a bit to reveal Johnny’s eyes.

Without a word, he started petting Johnny’s head.

“It’s okay”, Simon said softly, “I said I’d make it better for you.”

He leaned down and kissed Johnny’s temple and kept petting him until the man fell asleep.

That night, Johnny had no nightmares.

—

In the morning, Simon woke up to a soft touch to his jaw. He opened his eyes and was met with a soft gaze and a sleepy smile.

“Mornin’”, he said, his voice deep and gruff.

“Mornin’”, Johnny replied, his eyes on Simon’s lips.

“How're ya feelin’?” Simon asked, his hand resting on Johnny’s side.

The touch didn't seem to bother Johnny so Simon dared to start caressing him. That elicited a wider smile from the other man.

“Better”, Johnny said, his gaze flicking to Simon’s.

Simon saw the way Johnny looked at him.

“Somethin’ on your mind?” he asked.

“Will you... allow me to be a little selfish?” Johnny asked quietly, his hand still on Simon’s jaw.

“Go ahead”, Simon said softly.

“Thank you, sir”, Johnny said quietly and leaned in to kiss Simon.

They kissed for a moment before Johnny broke the kiss. He laid back down and looked at Simon.

“Ye really sleep with that thing on”, Johnny chuckled and tugged at the mask.

“What did you expect?” Simon asked.

“Honestly? This is kind of what I expected”, Johnny said.

“Did you expect to share your bed with me, though?” Simon asked, rubbing Johnny’s side with his thumb.

“No, sir”, Johnny said, “No, I didn’t.”

Simon hummed, “Are you glad it happened?”

Johnny smiles, “Aye, sir.”

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #otp #call of duty #sfw #Kaarne's fics #call of duty: modern warfare ii #cod: mwii #ghostsoap

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mistely · 9 months

Text

7 years time skip au.

TW: apparent MCD (he gets better I prommy)

So this basically starts with Ghost. He's cold and distant when Price finds him and adds him to the 141. He's good, really good, but he prefers solo missions. Sometimes goes seeral days without expected communication but he always reappears.

Enter the new guy, Roach. He's inexperienced but doesn't look it. Very accurate with most guns, fast on the obstacle course, etc. Cheerful and witty but thoughtful too.

Against all odds, Ghost n Roach grow close. And Ghost starts to open up. To offer more of himself not just to Roach but to everyone who might be looking. The change is very subtle for those who don't know him. Price might be the only one to notice. And he's happy, he thinks having a friend will be good for Ghost.

Then the unthinkable happens.

It is during a mission that Roach suddenly stops responding. They think something might have happened to his comms device because they don't want to think about the alternative. He's the best of them, so it wouldn't even make sense.

(They don't want it to make sense)

Ghost keeps his cool until too much time passes. Too much silence. He becomes very scary. Thanks to him, they go from being cornered to having no one to aim their guns to. He kills everyone in his path, and them some.

He reaches Roach's last known location and finds it completely empty. Not a trace, no blood splats on the floor, no guns and equipment thown around, no nothing. He searches and searches and Price everyone to do the same, but they find nothing.

They have to leave the place because more enemies are coming, but Ghost goes dark so not even Price can reach him. He appears on base only days later, looking worse for wear. Not a lot of people notice, but Price does. He wants to confort Ghost but the later doesn't make it easy to find him.

It's only months later that he starts becoming what he was before. He eats his meals, trains, does everything to protocol. Goes on missions. Even talks to his subordinates. But Price can hear it in his voice, he's even worse than when he joined.

Cue a few years later. Price sees promise in a young sergeant. He asks him to join the 141, and Soap agrees enthusiastically.

He's rough around the edges, and a little disrespectful to his superiors, but he's good.

He wouldn't have paired him with Ghost but it happens, against his best wishes. They seem to be okay though. Maybe a little break after this will help them go back to normal. But they can't. They don't catch Hassan when they should have, so they can't rest.

They keep and keep on going. Just a little more and then they will be done. But the worst thing he can think of happens. They are betrayed by both Graves and Shepherd. And Price only learns of it later.

When he rejoins Ghost and Soap, he's surprised to see how close they've grown. He's even more surprised when Ghost proposes his idea of a Ghost Team. He doesn't understand, but he won't question it.

"Good to see you again, Simon."

And there's fire in his eyes, a passion that Price doesn't remember when was the last time he saw. He's truly happy his lieutenant, his friend, is back.

Later, they all have to tend to their wounds, but it's done. Hassan is KIA.

And Price can only look in amazement as this unlikely friendship develops between the local cryptid and the loudest, most talkative man he's ever met. He even hears them cracking jokes over the comms. Unbelievable. He lets them have their fun for a little longer than he would allow for any other soldier.

They are not just any soldiers. And they work good together. They know each other, how they work, so it's easy for them to fall in sync, more so than any other person.

It is only a few months later that Price receives a call. He doesn't think too much of it (panicking before you even know if it's good or bad news is no good) but his face slowly changes as he keeps listening.

By the end of it, he's speedwalking (NOT running) to the base's entrance. He's just in time to see a young man exitting a vehicle and thanking the driver. And looking at him. And smiling warmly.

After all these years of not knowing what even happened to him. And he's completely unchanged.

(So explanation in case it wasn't clear: Roach jumped from the past to the present, skipping all those years, so he didn't live them. He's the same age, same health, same scrapes and scratches he earned during the mission, and didn't feel all that time passing at all.)

So, now there's 3 fronts to think about: GhostRoach, GhostSoap, and RoachSoap.

It is only now, when Ghost is starting to accept that he has (romantic) feelings for Soap, that he realizes he probably had (romantic) feelings for Roach, too. And it's very easy to confirm after spending only a few days with the bug. The bug who's very surprised and doesn't know how to act when Ghost hugs him and holds him so close and so long. Hands staying on his back and hard mask (which is new) formly in the crook of his neck. This is new, very new, and Roach doesn't know how to act at first, but slowly learns to let Ghost have these moments. No time passed for Roach, but Ghost thought he was dead (or worse) for so many years, so he might not understand but he relaxes in Ghost arms, and even starts to give him hugs back, and touch him, grabbing his arms to catch his attention and such. The way Ghost relaxes in his presence is another thing he will have to get used to. And his openness. And the way he laughs, actually laughs at his jokes.

Roach and Soap, on the other hand, take no time to grow on each other. They approach each other as "Ghost's best friend" first, but they quickly develop a friendship of their own. They just like each other. Laugh at the other's jokes, challenge each other to get better, admire each other on their specific skills. When one starts a prank, the other is quick to run along with it. It's good, and it's fun, and even when their bodies are sore or even injured from a hard mission, they lean on each other and just chat to pass the time. They even get protective over each other. Maybe even possessive. Soap is a little confused when he thinks about it, doesn't wanna look into it too much, because what he sees might scare him a little. Roach is not confused, just thinks he likes Soap so much because he was Ghost's friend when he needed it so much. (He's wrong)

Now Ghost and Soap...

Ghost grows distant from Soap. And it's 100% because he knows he's in love with him, and also with Roach, and doesn't know what to do about either of those situations. In his effort to avoid hurting Soap, he's hurting him more than ever. But he doesn't even notice, doesn't ever look long enough to realize, starts ignoring Soap every chance he gets.

Roach might become a little combative about it, when he notices. Asks Ghost why he's avoiding Soap. That's his friend, is he not? Nothing between them has to change because Roach is back. Ghost refuses to confess to the feelings that are tearing him up inside, and this creates another divide.

So Roach spends more time with Soap, loves him more aggressively, which makes Soap more confused, or maybe it makes his (unspeekable, secret even to himself) feelings harder to ignore. So Soap distances himself from Roach also.

They are basically all sitting in the same room, Roach with crossed arms and glaring at them both at the same time, while Ghost and Soap ignore everything around them.

So the 3 of them are in love with each other, but don't know or don't act on it.

#GhostRoachSoap #Simon Ghost Riley #Gary Roach Sanderson #John Soap Mactavish #this was written quickly and messily because otherwise I wouldn't have written anything #Bone Apple Teeth #doesn't have to be 7 years that's just a number I chose randomly #This is a 300k slow burn angst with a happy ending but only in my dreams lol

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superiormotorskia · 6 months

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#kia #superior kia #orangeburg #south carolina #kia motors

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thedevillionaire · 4 months

Note

9, 20, and a very self indulgent 28, please, from the cozy asks list, if you would be so kind? For Cerberus and Kia both? Thanking you!!

Always! 💕

9. What side of the bed does your OC sleep on? Why is that?Cerberus left, Kia right. I have no idea why - things just kinda landed that way. The right is on the side of the bedroom door, the left on the side of the ensuite, although both those things are still a fair distance from the bed itself. But on those sides. This info is almost certainly unrelated, anyway. I always see them in that 'order', though. Why? NFI, I'm afraid.😅

20. Do they hog the blankets? has been answered here! 😆Indulge away! 28. Your OC has the sniffles. How do they handle it? Cerberus is a categorical denier until all hope is lost. He is, to steal from Kia, a hopeless optimist about this. Once said hope is lost, however, how does he handle it? Well, as a rule, badly. He's a notoriously terrible patient, and even nowadays, when he knows he'll get ridiculously spoiled and cared for and fussed over by literally the only person he'd ever want that from, and he loves it, he's still kind of a pain in the ass. 🤣 Kia's pragmatic, and much, much better at self-medicating, but she gets a bit grumpy about it, too. If she's ever inclined towards vanity, it's when she's unwell - surely feeling like crap is plenty; no need to look like crap alongside it, lol. But she's much more likely to take it in her stride than her dearly beloved, who is fortunately vastly superior at looking after her than he is at looking after himself. You'd think he'd work this out sometime, but nope.

#thank you so much!#answered asks #cerbia #they've only very very rarely been sick at the same time #which is probably just as well really lol #although it was also kinda cute‚ i gotta admit 😅

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imustbenuts · 9 months

Text

@cannibal-lesbian

Doing a fresh post so the chain doesn't get too long. For anyone interested here's where we left off talking about Sombron.

🧋Oke whew. I'm gonna uhhh put a big big disclaimer here before diving in. I do not have any sort of media literacy degree or am I a scholar AT ALL. I am just a big fucking nerd, and my take can be very subjective. (You'll see why I'm saying this in a hot minute). 🧋

My take is this:

A big dooky spitball, featuring ww2.

Before reading your post, my thoughts of Sombron is that he embodies on some level, a generalized stereotypical deadbeat parent that's annoyingly common irl (at least in my sphere of asia, I live in a certain SEA country which got invaded by Japan back then. this narrative seems to be common over there too to some extent). This specific type grew up in the era of post WW2, where their parents utterly suffered from and in war, and they may or may not have seen some of the horrors of in Japan as a child. Think of this group over the age of 75, as a rule of thumb.

This generation had to grow up without their parents, in a society so turbulent with social changes where scores of its population are KIA or MIA. To say they have trauma is the LEAST of it, bc in JP context these missing parents are often men who died fighting for their or someone's bullshit dream of racial superiority and imperialism trying to conquer the rest of Asia, then getting 2 fucking atomic bombs for it. American planes flew over their skies as they cowered in fear, their soldiers they sent gone beyond the horizon. Their childhood, though messy, has yet to fully comprehend beyond the threats flying literally over their heads. In the form of American fighter and bomber planes.

1945 wasn't that long ago. 77 years ago. My dad is in his 60s and he still feels bitter about Japan doing shit to his family.

In spite of it all, childhood was probably the safest they felt in the whirlwind of life with people they knew. Childhood is safe and sacred to many. Across the board, their parents left to keep them safe, at least, that's what they believed to frame why Japan went to commit atrocities in other countries. Regardless, there were so many broken families and orphans or eventual orphans that it's normal, and it's permeated through every level of society. Even those who came a little after experienced the aftermath of such a hellish landscape.

And these people lived, and they had children, though not all of them made it, and with many unaddressed traumas. Mental health in the west can be a joke sometimes, but it's even worse in Asia. Mental trauma and neurological disorder as a concept has been largely dismissed and even denied until only the last 20 years, and even then the situation on the ground is that it's still shit.

And because of this, no one really talks about the effects of this generational trauma. People just went to work. Emotionally battered and doing their best, earning money for their family and country to keep themselves fed. But the results and reality is that they are just not ok. I mean, how the fuck can one be ok? Even as they build a new world or enter into one, how can most of them really say they're ok?

Still, time passes anyway. The world changes anyway.

The writers of FE and most video games currently are around the age of anywhere 30 to 60, give or take a couple years. They are the children of these generation who told stories like Grave of The Fireflies and Barefoot Gen.

Writers who grew up with this society, with that generation and kind of going "Uh, huh. Our parents are kind of emotionally fucked up and neglectful even..." and other similar related sentiments. For many, it can be felt even if it cannot be vocalized.

...Do you see where I'm going with this? Do I make sense? ;;

I see Sombron as this battered generation. He's the survivor of a genocide/war left to fend for himself, with a condition that he can't even explain or understand. I mean even irl rn, understanding there's a neurological/mental condition doesn't mean everything is smooth sailing in practice when interacting with a person suffering from said effects. The one who knew him best, that parental figure, is gone like all the support structure he would otherwise have.

Like many disconnected people, sometimes no matter how nice the new guardians or community is, there's always a sense of not belonging. For some it would be hard to even try connecting, but really, letting go can look like the easier option sometimes.

So Sombron has an attachment to that sacred childhood. Where he felt safe. Maybe he faltered or found that this new life wasn't working for him, and he let go in search of the past.

And ofc, just like Alear puts it, even if Sombron truly went back and found that emblem or the past, what's to say that alternate reality would grant him the happiness and fulfillment he seeks?

Anyway, imo connections are a 2 way street. If one party doesn't or cannot play ball, something goes a awry. And though shit, Sombron always had a choice. Not enough to bring back the past, but definitely a choice and he. Kept. Choosing. Crap. He kept. Choosing. Delusion.

I have always thought of Sombron as a reflection of this generation of people. Who are battered, traumatized, and as a result do all kinds of weird shit for the next generation to deal with in some form. Very importantly here: including but not limited to starting a cult to get some edge in society. (See: Aum Shinrikyo and the Tokyo subway sarin attack. And also the Moonies and Shinzo Abe's assassination.)

After reading your above, I think it is absolutely applicable here with Sombron. All of it, the trauma, the genocide, the mental struggles, it all checks out. No matter how I look at it, I see FE as a story being told by Japan, and I cannot uncouple that thought from my analysis anymore. Even if it's not meant to be such a deep reflection, it fits at least on surface level. Stories are influenced by each other often and by big events in the society's subconcious, so while this take is a spitball it is at least somewhat applicable.

BUT!! I'm not saying the writers fully intended for Sombron to be written this way. I could be reading too much into it, and those are just breadcrumbs laid out by the writers for the players to form our own theories and understanding.

What is definitely inarguable is that Sombron suffers from some level of Trauma and Mental Illness. He definitely feels empty and unfulfilled enough to go off on a deep end to fill that void.

But since Intsys ANNOYINGLY doesn't give much personal interview about their thought process, I can only say my analysis here has gone past canon and into wildly speculative reading. Grr!!

And there you have it. That's my thoughts. Sorry for the wall of text ;w;

#cannibal-lesbian #sombron #fire emblem engage

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january-summers · 6 months

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Whoopsie, More Wash centric AUs, now with OCs for extra flavour.

What if he wasn’t court-martialed until the very end of the war so he never joined PFl, and instead of David, Agent Washington was some douche named George who either legit died on the cliff with Meta, or never recovered from Epsilon.

And, David kills some people in self defence, like has to shoot his direct superior in the head very publicly to stop them from ordering his entire platoon to their very avoidable deaths, or during his slap-on-the-wrist free-with-court-martial two months prison time he kills some guys in the showers because they were trying to kill/harm him, so he ends up with *serious* prison time.

Like ends up on the Tartarus, serious. And naturally he makes friends with the other inmates near his cell, including someone who probably shouldn’t be there because she’s technically still a teenager and her crimes were more white collar than murder even if they were very very serious. (Hacked ONI for the lulz, they’re trying to scare her into compliance/working for them.)

Think Emily Grey but with a more limited area of hyper-focused intelligence and higher anxiety/obvious autism.

Meanwhile with the Reds and Blues, Alpha Church managed to basically eat Sigma, O’Malley and Gary, because he didn’t have anyone to Emp them out in a last stand and Meta got their hands on him so it was eat or be eaten.

And he reconnects with Epsilon who basically treats it like a backstory update and goes on being Epsilon Church (Caboose is stoked, double best friend!)

(All Churches get their therapy moment and Tex gets to decide on her own personhood, going off to self examine for a bit and meeting up with Carolina, they get to talk out their issues and decide to kill Director. Tex gets to have her “I exist now, no matter how I was made I have experiences of my own and I am my own person, not your dead wife.” moment, and Carolina gets her, “you died when mum did, and I can’t, I won’t keep chasing your ghost.” moment.)

And the Reds and Blues get to keep the rest of the AIs by virtue of not mentioning they have them to others. They all still end up on Chorus.

In the Tartarus, David figures out what Felix is planning, and even though he has no interest in working for or with him, he still grabs the bars and warns his nearby inmates what’s probably about to happen. (It’s way too easy for David to think “if I was a sack of shit what would I do?”)

By cosmic coincidence, David ends up with the old Freelancer armour belonging to KIA Agent (George) Washington. (Price recognises David and mentions later that he’d actually been on the list for the project.)

David gets to be in charge of his own little strike team, not that anyone on it is particularly interested in working for team Felix.

“Do you think the locals will let us swap sides?” Asks one of David’s men.

But David shakes his head, “not after Felix and Locus pulled their multiyear double agent crap.”

“… is it Locus or Locust?”

“What?”

“The big scary one, is it Locus or Locust?”

“Locus?” Now David is questioning what he’s been hearing, because it could easily be eith- “Wait, where’s the kid?!”

The team is one short, the hacker teen who shouldn’t have been there is missing. She should be back up on the ship, but David didn’t like the idea of leaving her unsupervised. For her safety sure, but also the safety of others.

“Spread out, find her. Don’t engage with anyone unless you have to, finding the kid is priority.”

David finds her with a soldier in… Teal? Aqua? Cyan? Blue, it’s a shade of blue.

The kid is trying to poke at a small hologram next to the soldier and David makes it just in time to stop the kid from taking a knife to the anything.

“Hey now, let’s all just calm down and everyone respect everyone else’s personal space, okay? No putting fingers or knives in others, okay?”

“Well that’s definitely not Washington in there,” the soldier says, “that guy was a grade A asshole who would love to see knives in people.”

“You can call me D.C. Sorry about the kid, she gets excited about techy stuff. So, from what Counsellor Price said, you must be Agent Carolina?”

“That’s right,” Carolina confirms like she’d like nothing more than to stick her knife in David.

“… has he always been that much of a creepy asshole?” David asks, then notices the kid’s reflection in Carolina’s visor, fidgeting with her helmet. The kid stims by chewing on things, normally her braids, David knows. “Kid, I need you to keep your helmet on for me, okay? It keeps your head nice and safe.”

*someone gets headshot in the background*

“…er, safer.” David corrects.

And through the power of being him, David and his team get to join team good guy. the folks on Chorus.

And all is well with the world. Until the kid and dr Grey meet and everyone has to deal with the “oh god there’s two of them” perfectly reasonable fear response.

Sorry for any typos in this mess of a plot bunny, I wrote it on my phone in bits and pieces during a bbq, which lead to another, competing bunny asking the tough and distracting questions: who is the best griller out if all the Reds and Blues and Freelancers, who shouldn’t be allowed near a grill, and who is a great bbq master but is someone everyone thinks shouldn’t be allowed near a grill? (And vice-versa)

This whole bunny thread was just a way to lead to the “keeps your head safe *bang* -er. safer” joke. Was not expecting the Tex and Carolina detour, but stuff it, ladies road-trip of murder and justice!

#rvb #red vs blue #rvb aus #agent washington #agent carolina #agent texas #leonard l church #ah canon I like to watch it drift away like agent georgia and wave as it passes the window

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killed-by-choice · 5 months

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Joyce Ortenzio, 32 (USA 1988)

Joyce Ortenzio 32-year-old Joyce Ortenzio was pregnant for the fourth time. She ended up going to the San Vicente Hospital, which despite the deceptive name was actually an FPA abortion facility. The San Vicente facility had already killed 22-year-old Sara Franki Lint and 16-year-old Natalie Meyers.

Joyce went to San Vicente for dilation by laminaria insertion and then underwent the second-trimester abortion on June 7, 1988. The next day she was found dead in her home.

Her autopsy revealed that fetal body parts had been left inside of her, causing a severe infection. She had gone into septic shock. Ruben Marmet, the abortionist who killed Joyce and her unborn baby, had also overdosed her on a dangerously high amount of amitriptyline.

Her surviving family members sued Edward Allred, his Family Planning Associates (FPA) corporation, the San Vicente FPA facility and abortionist Ruben Marmet. Marmet had already been sued for malpractice after selling an “abortion” to a client who was not even pregnant in 1982 (LA County Superior Court Case No. NCC238673).

Allred’s abortion facilities were also responsible for the deaths of 13-year-old Deanna Bell, Susan Levy, Ta Tanisha Wesson, 16-year-old Nakia “Kia” Jorden, 18-year-old Christine Mora, Kenniah Epps, Kimberly K. Neil, Emmeko Reed, Denise Holmes, 16-year-old Patricia “Patty” Chacon, Mary Pena, Maria Leho, Chanelle Bryant, Maria E. Rodriguez, Josefina Garcia, 19-year-old Tami Suematsu and 17-year-old Laniece Dorsey. Allred and his corporation had been accused of systemic racism in his substandard treatment of clients who were POC, which was brought up in multiple lawsuits over client’s deaths.

Marmet continued his career of malpractice. In 2012 he was sued by Luz Escalante for 6.2 million dollars after two botched abortions. Luz’s child (little Alexis Escalante) survived both abortion attempts but was left disabled. When Marmet was found guilty of malpractice and ordered to pay, he then attempted to sue his law firm (and lost). He was also sued for malpractice in 1995, 2007, 2009, 2010 and 2015.

Joyce’s three surviving children were left without their mother and sibling, who they had lost one day apart.

Los Angeles County CA Superior Court Case No. WEC139590

California Death Certificate No. 88-127625

#fpa #tw abortion #pro life #unsafe yet legal #tw murder #tw ab*rtion #abortion #abortion debate #death from legal abortion #tw malpractice

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michaelbracewell11 · 25 days

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