🌹Some Thoughts on Inserting Jade in MWIII 👀🌹
⚠️ MWIII Spoilers ⚠️
Because I'm so damn devastated and angst driven here's what I cranked up for Jade's role in MWIII! (aka I can't sleep because of the angst and decided to write this instead)
Version 1
Jade stayed in London throughout all the events of MWIII because she's retired (and of course, she earned this peace). When the news of the airplane crash and the attack on Arklov military base went to the news, she was wondering what happened, but chose to stay home as she promised her parents that she won't go anymore.
After the events of Trojan Horse, Ghost showed up in front of her floristry in the middle of the night, all broody and seemed... crestfallen. As Jade invited her to her house, she started.
"Simon. You're home! Why didn't you tell me? What's wro--" Her words got cut off by him suddenly hugging her. She wanted to ask what happened before he let out a sniff, close to a sob.
Jade thought it must've been a rough mission (every mission he goes to is, but to have him crying like this meant something terrible had happened), so she only rubbed his back, giving him time to collect himself. However, when his sobs only grew as time went by, Jade had to ask him.
"Simon. Tell me what happened, please."
"Johnny... Johnny's gone." Ghost voice shook as he clasped his hands harder to her back, wrinkling her shirt.
Upon hearing the news, her heart felt like it was being pierced a thousand times, leaving an empty hole. The young, brave Scot who's grown to be both her and Ghost's closest friend, gone, just like that.
"Oh... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Simon. I'm so sorry." As tears quickly ran down her cheeks, she rubbed Ghost's back firmly now, she could only wonder what happened, not wanting to pry too much from him.
***
Jade went to Scotland to let go of Soap's ashes, standing behind Price, Gaz, and Ghost to give them their time, even with tears running down her cheek. As Price and Gaz went, Jade approached Ghost near the cliff, before putting a bunch of lilies and chrysanthemums on the ground.
"Fly high, Soap."
Version 2
Ghost had told Jade that he's going on a mission with the 141. Jade hugged Ghost before he went and said, "Come back in one piece, alright?" "Count on that."
And then, when the news of Makarov finally got to Price and the boys, they turned around and immediately changed mission. Ghost opened his phone to contact Jade, but he decided against it, because if he told her that Makarov's out, Jade will absolutely ask Laswell to count her in. So Ghost didn't tell her that he's going on an entirely different mission, a dangerous one.
***
Laswell was alone with her laptop working on the intel General Shepherd gave to them regarding Milena Romanova, when Ghost approached her from behind and called her name.
"Laswell. What are you doing?"
"Ghost. I'm in the process of confirming the intel we have from Shepherd."
"And?" He pried for more.
"...I'm scrolling through my contacts to add our firepower. Makarov moves fast, so we need someone who can think and moves fast."
"Don't you dare tell her to come here."
"You know this is a matter of international emergency. She's one of the best contacts I have. You saw how perceptive she is and how helpful she was in your time in Las Almas. Makarov has stolen American missiles from ULF, caused false flag missile attacks on Russian Military base, and successfully orchestrated a false airplane hijacking, all under ULF's name - everything in the span of 36 hours. We need her, Ghost."
"She's retired. Laswell."
"And the world is on the brink of a large-scale war."
"And she has no part in this. Lottie's not coming here and that's final."
***
As the news of the airplane crash + the gas attack on Arklov Military Base went international, Jade obviously picked up on it, absolutely not believing that it was done by "an Urzikstani who got inspired by Commander Farah Karim". She did her own research with the help of her parents' contacts and connections to MI6, finally catching the news of Makarov's ousting from his prison.
After knowing this, Jade immediately contacted Laswell.
"Kate, where on earth is Ghost and the others."
***
She joined the missions with the 141 boys, particularly the ones with Ghost in it, including the Oligarch, Frozen Tundra, and Gora Dam.
And AS USUAL FUCK CANON. HERE'S THE ALTERNATE ENDING I DON'T CARE.
When Soap and Price was trying to defuse the bomb, Jade was there to cover them from the Konni's rain of bullets. When Makarov approached Soap from behind to stop him from defusing the bomb, Jade rushed to Makarov and tackled him to the ground and got shot on the shoulders, but not without Ghost and Gaz injuring Makarov in the process. The bomb is successfully defused. Mak ran away and Price and Soap wanted to chase him before the bullet train stopped them in their tracks.
Ghost cradled her as Soap and Gaz applied first aid on her bleeding shoulders. Ghost shouted,
"Lottie. Stay with me, alright. It's nothing. Just stay awake."
Price shouted to the comms asking for medic before Ghost carried Jade bridal style and hauled her ass through the tunnel and exit. The ambulance was there when they got out, and Ghost put her on the bed where the medics got to work on her.
He waited for Jade in the hospital as she came to her consciousness. The boys came to visit along with her parents who stared at them with devilish eyes, but also grateful for protecting her and giving the first aid.
EVERYONE IS ALIVE AND HAPPY OKAY
Or ---
Ghost cradled her as Soap and Gaz applied first aid on her bleeding shoulders. Ghost shouted,
"Lottie. Stay with me, alright. It's nothing. Just stay awake."
"I am, I am! I'm good, just let me take a breather for a second. Fuck it hurts."
She can walk but of course Ghost carried her bridal style UWU and EVERYONE'S FUCKING ALIVE LET'S GO.
AAAAFJJSDHJAGDHSJHDHSJJDH
---
So that was my brain vomit at midnight yesterday. Which version do you like the most? Leave some thoughts!
Thank you for reading and hope you like it...? (〒▽〒)
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the worst trait of me and my family is probably this: we never learned to say the word sorry.
i) my best friend and i, we are no people. knives? maybe. liars? definitely. but people? i’m not so sure.
knives were never forged to be tender (what a shame, what a shame) and we too, fall and slay what we meant to protect. him and i, we go for the throat when we clash. we hurt and bleed and oh, i should be terrified, i should be running for my life, but all i am is tired and a bit lonely and would really like his arms around me.
( “can we please stop fighting now.”
“oh god yes please.”)
because time and time again, this man has held my heart in his hands and cleaned its festering wounds with cotton dipped in alcohol (always the healer, always the lover) and wrapped gauze around them with clinical precision. and i have walked through the maze of his head and tended to his withering garden, have dragged the sun and fresh air and all the oceans to the barren land to make it bloom (always the poet, always the lover).
him and i, we have never needed words because we are knives forged in the same fire and at the end of the day, we both know that he will be the one who wordlessly stitches my broken heart and i will be the one who sings him to sleep.
ii) let me paint you a picture:
blue that fades into red that fades into black that fades into blue that fades into red. loud, clashing and nonsensical. a pit in your stomach that was dug with desperation and blunt fingernails. how do you colour anger that is also pain, grief, hate, love, fear and truth? the smell of the paint is foul and clogs your windpipes. blunt fingernails and blue and black and madness. can you bear to look at what you created without flinching?
that’s what anger looks like on my father. a horror. a mottled bruise. a hellfire.
all his life, my father has been scorned, belittled, beaten, spat on. his mother didn’t love him right because her mother didn’t love her right. my dad loves like he hates. something is fucked in his head and heart and his words fade into black and blue and red and this shitshow always ends with me sobbing, bleeding, dying on the floor. my father watches with his hackles raised and his eyes red and wide and glowing. once wounded, an animal never sheathes its claws. it strikes the ones it loves and walks away with its head held high and hands trembling.
but here’s what happens when the curtains close: he pulls me into his arms and brings me tea. he wipes away my tears with hands that has moved mountains to make me smile. he kisses my forehead and tells me that his mom didn’t love him right. my grief is like anger and indignation and love. i wrap my arms around him and cry all the tears he never had the luxury to. who should say sorry, really? is it him or his mom or his mom’s mom or this stupid fucking world? my father has never said the word sorry. he never needed to. this is what love looks like on us. a horror. a mottled bruise. a hellfire.
iii) despite it all, i am not usually an angry person. i take after my father and my mother, after all. i rage like my mother (quick, loud, fire that burns out almost as quickly as it sparked to life) and fight like my father (aim, shoot, bullseye). my sister does something even mildly upsetting and before i know it, i’m cursing her to be miserable till she dies. not even an hour later i’m draping myself over her shoulder and bugging her till she rolls her eyes and smiles ever so slightly.
(“do you have no shame?”
“yeah no i don’t think so.”)
my family and i, we never learned to say the word sorry. because the word sorry never meant sorry, not to us. because at the end of the day, that’s all it is: a word. and it sticks to the back of my tongue and the dents of my molars and gets tangled in my mouth when i try to spit it out. so i grab it by its throat and thread it into my being. i find it so much easier to hide my pathetic inability to do one thing that doesn’t scream that there's something wrong with me with the truth of another three words:
“i love you”
and they are always echoed back to me, just a few million times more tender, in ways only we can understand.
“yeah, i know.”
“that’s great, but there’s no escaping dishes duty.”
“oh, shut up, you.”
“what’s that for?”
a pause and a hum.
“i love you too.”
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remember my Apocalypse tawog au? i did a "redesigning" thing ab rob in this au(?).. it looks like shit, really, i prefer the old design, but i just...i just cant draw.
You wanna now whar? Whatever Whateve rwharrver whatever whatever uugghhh
If you want, there are more things about the au below, I just...I'm tired so..yeah, ugly ass drawings
Rob and Penny are super friends. Penny even considers Rob like a brother and Polly loves Rob very much too. Penny helped him cut his hair in a way that covered the static on his cheeks (it worked amazingly, but he's really uncomfortable with the hair on his face)
he is trying to find a way to make a vaccine for those infected (The apocalypse is about the void) and wants to try to save everyone
Rob, during the time he stayed with the survivors (including Gumball), ended up falling in love with Gumball, Which is sad because Gumball thinks Rob is one of those to blame for the apocalypse...
He tries his best to save and find some survivors, infected or not. However, most people were afraid of Rob being another infected person or a zombie because of the glitches and static, so Rob became very insecure and even started hiding the static on his body.
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