#Shadow Company AU

[thechaoticcheese]

TW: Mentioning of burning and shooting

Shadow Company Roach AU - Extra Chapter - Roach's Nightmare

Ghost wasn’t going to sleep that night. Or at least he wasn’t planning on it. Missions had been rough for both him and Roach the past few weeks with… Everything. Ghost let out a soft sigh as his eyes closed, one hand tucked underneath his head as the fabric graced his glove, his other hand resting on the thin blanket that was provided by the military. He always found it weird that they could afford good clothes and weapons, but decided to cut fundings when it came to things like bedding and certain furniture. His brows furrowed at the thought, though he didn’t have much time to think about it when everything went dark.

He must’ve fallen asleep, having only seen a flash of the usual nightmares he had before he felt something wrapping around his stomach. At first, he thought it was the nightmare, but that had ended. His eyes flicked open as he quickly sat up with a deep inhale to find Roach, his face was plastered against Ghost’s abs, his usual black mask a bit off kiltered due to the Brit’s movement. He gently fixed the American’s mask as his eyes softened. Whatever the dirty blond had done opened a part of himself that he didn’t think he could feel, and it felt warm and fuzzy, like if he held a steaming cup of tea against his chest.

Ghost was quick to realize that something was wrong with Roach. He knew the male loves physical contact, but he tried not to wake Ghost from his sleep when he tried to get it. Roach knew better. Something was clouding his judgement.

“What’s wrong, love?” Ghost’s voice was soft, despite how gruff his voice sounds whenever he just woke up. His gloved hands trailed through the ever messy locks of Roach’s head. He could feel the American shake his head. He didn’t want to talk about it. Which was fine to Ghost, but it always hit something that made him want to try to fix the way Roach was feeling. The Brit only sighed though, gently bringing his free hand to the middle of Roach’s back, gently guiding the shorter male up as he shifted to lean against the wall. He knew these kinds of nights. All too familiar with them in fact. Have a dream, a nightmare, that consumes you after you wake from it, even in the middle of the night, and despite how exhausted you felt, it wouldn’t let you sleep.

Roach eventually shifted upwards, resting his head against Ghost’s chest. His ear right above his heart. Ghost gave a curious glance as he watched the male move. Then a thought flickered in the back of his mind. Was the dream about him? Did the nightmare consist of losing Ghost?

He felt like the tight arms around his back gave him the answers. Ghost gently rested his chin on Roach’s head, wishing he could feel the strands of hair against his skin directly and not just the phantom of their touch on the fabric.

“S’okay. I’m ‘ere.” Ghost murmurs gently as his hand that was previously resting on Roach’s back starts to slowly maneuver up and down, feeling his clothes fold onto itself as his glove attempts to glide against the fabric, only causing them to stick more together and cause friction. His eyes were half closed as he looked straight ahead.

“You’re here…” Roach’s voice was a surprise. The usually silent man never spoke unless absolutely necessary, defaulting to ASL and what little BSL he knew. Ghost felt his arm tighten around his back as another word left his shaky lips, “Alive…”

Ghost closed his eyes fully, taking in a slow, deep breath as his thoughts were confirmed. Roach’s dream was about losing him. It still boggled the Brit’s mind how quickly the two latched onto each other. While he couldn’t pin a specific moment, he knew it had to have been fate. Roach was a part of Shadow Company, a group that wanted 141 dead in Las Almas. Hell, he was lucky that Ghost didn’t put a bullet in his head when Roach and Soap were approaching the church that night. Or maybe Ghost should be considering himself lucky to be holding the American in his vulnerable state. His brows furrowed as he felt Roach starting to move away, his instincts wanting to pull the darker blond closer to him, but he refused to let his instincts win. Ghost’s eyes snapped open to see Roach staring at the floor, giving a glance as the masked man, as if checking to see if he was looking at him.

‘Sorry.’ Roach signed. They weren’t a thing, not yet. Just friends. Or, at least that’s what both of them told themselves.

“S’alright. Nightmares suck.” Ghost responded before softly grunting as he sat up, carefully swinging his legs behind Roach so they could sit next to each other. “Wanna talk ‘bout it?” Ghost knew it was a long shot, however, Roach’s hazel eyes seemed to be considering the offer.

‘I remember us being shot.’ Roach started to sign with shaky hands, pausing as his eyes glistened with tears all too eager to come out. The smaller male wiped his sleeve over his eyes, the fabric picking up any loose drops before he continued. ‘Then dragged through a forest. Someone looked at us with pity, before dumping gasoline on us. I remember reaching for your hand before feeling my skin start to melt off…’

Roaches hands slowly drifted down as the tears came back through his retelling of the nightmare. He clasped his hands together and brought them in gingerly towards his stomach, as if reliving the touch of dream Ghost’s hand in his.

Ghost’s heart twisted slightly at the thought of the two being burned alive after being shot, or perhaps it was because Roach had the nightmare at all. His arms wrapped around Roach as he gently held the dirty blond in his arms, pressing his head against his chest, one hand resting on the back of his head as his fingers got entangled with the American’s locks.

“We ain’t burnin’. Nothin’ like that ‘ill happen. I promise.” Ghost vowed as he hoped his soothing words hit a cord with Roach as much as the protectiveness inside his chest swelled. If he could go into that dream and kick whoever’s ass for making Roach feel this way he would, provided he survived the fire.

His thoughts were brought back to the moment as he felt Roach wrap his arms around Ghost’s back once more, feeling him shift and silently cry into his hoodie. The Brit’s grip gently tightened against Roach.

He wouldn’t anything like that happen, ever.

~~~~~~

A/N: I did not proof read this at all. Y'all enjoy the GhostRoach.

Edited A/N: Reread it finally(hours after posting), made a couple of fixes.

@fastleopard1521 - @whateverdraws1008 - @glitter-anon-asks - @olibird - @chaosgoblindoodles

[r0ttenb0gb0dy]

daydreaming about shadow company kitchen au while im at work. restaurant manager graves. head chef rex. sous chef wasp. chef de partie spitfire. flat top cook sparks. sautee cook maverick.

[noyzinerd]

Sterek Rival Lawyers AU

It's A (Court) Date

Imagine, high-class, Ivy League, hot-shot, attorney Derek comes back from New York to the family firm to take over as partners with his sister after his parents decide to step down. He may not be on the level of his mother yet, but he's cut his teeth against Wall Street wolves and ruthless white-collar sharks. Derek's more than proved himself, so he just can't fathom these small criminal court cases his family is making him take "before he's truly ready" to be a part of the family business.

Enter in his first case. Right out the gate, the state assigned defense is, not only late to court, but also arrives in a flurry of limbs and papers, tripping all over himself, and profusely apologizing to the room as a whole. "Sorry! Sorry! Car trouble!"

The guy is out of breath, tie crooked and hair a mess. It makes Derek wrinkle his nose at the unprofessionalism and the blatant disrespect to everyone's valuable time.

The presiding judge, the Honorable Ms. Lydia Martin, only sighs a heavy sigh, as if this sight is nothing new, and says "Mr. Stilinski, I suggest you don't let it happen again."

Derek is honestly getting annoyed by how easy this is going to be. He could've been doing literally anything else right about now rather than being here going against a common rent-a-lawyer with some Podunk community-college degree. The opening statement for the defense is laughably inept. Full of nervous stuttering, backtracking, running tangents, and babbling. He's still apologizing, trying to assure the jury that he's just having an off-day today.

It's embarrassing to watch.

Nonetheless, Derek goes through the motions, practiced and poised. Examines all the evidence, presenting times and dates, prior arrest records, the works.

During this time, Mr. Stilinski is frantically (and VERY LOUDLY) flitting through a cartoonishly large stack of papers and whispering to his client. Derek has to fight to grit his teeth through his presentation.

Finally, it's time for Mr. Stilinski to cross-examine Derek's client and, unbeknownst to him, the beginning of Derek's long, long spiral of madness for the rest of his career.

"Judge Martin, I would like to move to have this case thrown out."

"Oh?" asks Judge Martin. For some reason, there's an amused smirk, almost fond, tugging at her lips "On what grounds?"

A giddy, almost manic, grin takes over the defense attorney's face just then. "On the grounds that the prosecution's client is full of bullshit."

The judge rolls her eyes and an exasperated "Stiles," slips from her lips, seemingly against her will. (Derek's not really surprised by the familiarity between the two of them. With how often state-assigned lawyers are called to the courtroom on small cases, it wouldn't be too big of a leap to suggest they might be chummy.)

"Respectfully, of course." Mr. Stilinski--er Stiles?--winks back at her.

"Objection. Your honor, this is ridiculous."

"Overruled. Make your point, Stilinski."

"Mr. Davis says he saw my client at 12:30 P.M., on August 4th, attempting to take his back-right hubcap outside his apartment. Mr. Davis' apartment complex at that time, on that particular day, would have cast a huge shadow over the back lot as evidenced by the gaudy sundial-art-installation outside the courthouse. Meanwhile, my client's picture, when taken in for questioning, has a sunburn on the entire right side of his face. This would corroborate Mr. Lyle's story of walking home alone, down the upper, unshaded side of Elmore Street, during one of the hottest days of the year, for an hour straight. Also, the fact that Mr. Davis has no realistic idea how long it would actually take a person to steal a hubcap should be evidence enough."

"Uh-huh. And this wouldn't happen to be something you've ever had any expertise in, would it, counsel?"

"I plead the 5th."

And just like that, Derek's case is thrown out so quick, he's still reeling about it all the way home.

For the next two years, this becomes Derek's life. This man, this Stiles Stilinski, keeps showing up like a whirlwind and absolutely puts him in his paces.

Stiles, as he insists Derek call him, is a powerhouse. Relentless and unstoppable. That mouth can filibuster for literal hours (which, for those unfamiliar, is when someone legally cannot be forced to give up their time on the floor as long as they can keep talking), that brain quick as a whip, with a hunger for research, a mastery of the English language svelte enough to trip up even the most well-rehearsed lie, and an attention to detail like nothing Derek has ever witnessed before. It's like he knows every law inside and out. Lives it. Breathes it. It's like he had been raised on the law his whole life. Not only that, it's like Stiles enjoys it. Every case is a new game to get excited about.

All of it makes Derek's blood boil.

However, it's not always about losing to Stiles all the time, because, honestly, that might be less humiliating.

In truth, when faced against Stiles, Derek's bound to win about 60% of the time. Out of that 60%, only 5% of those wins actually feel earned. As for the other 55%?

He knows Stiles is letting him win.

Derek can't prove it, but he knows the asshole is holding back on purpose nearly half the time. Knowing that Stiles could have beaten him if he wanted to, but didn't, is somehow more frustrating than just losing.

He hates Stiles.

He hates that the guy is so chipper and playful all the damn time. He hates that Stiles could probably work at any firm he wanted, could make enough money to get a decent car that doesn't shit out all the time, could buy a proper-fitting suit, but instead CHOOSES to stay here "watching out for the little guy", as he so put it.

He hates that facing Stiles in court is the most challenged, the most motivated he's ever felt in his entire life. He hates that Stiles brings out in him the spark of passion and drive Derek had long thought had died. He hates that Stiles always tries to banter with him during recess or whenever they have to exchange evidence.

He hates finding out that Stiles only loses cases on purpose when his endless amounts of research points to the defendant actually being guilty of horrendous crimes, because Stiles is a good fucking person.

He hates Stiles' constant teasing and he hates that Stiles is somehow able to bring Derek down to his childish level to tease back. He hates how much he looks forward to court-dates with Stiles now. He hates being invited out by Stiles over and over to grab a bite together after a long day, as if Stiles hasn't been wiping the floor with him on this case for the last month. He hates it even more that he always accepts and that now they have their own designated booth at the diner across the street. Derek's so unbelievably frustrated, it makes him want to bite Stiles at the neck just to hear that smartass mouth squeal.

"Hey, I ever tell you I was thinking of quitting before you arrived?" Stiles asks one night as they're walking to their cars.

Derek's head immediately snaps to him at that. "What?"

Stiles smiles distantly at the thought. "Oh, yeah. Things had started feeling like being trapped in a cubicle, y'know? There wasn't any challenge in it anymore."

"What made you stay?"

"Well...you did. You were the first, serious competition I'd faced in a while. It wasn't a matter of winning just to win, anymore. Going against you always reminded me of the reason why it was important for me to win. It gave me stakes, because now there was an actual chance I could lose and an innocent person could go to jail. You, I don't know, kinda reignited my passion for fighting the good fight, I guess."

Derek can feel his heart thumping hard in his chest. He wants to say 'You did the same for me!' He wants to tell Stiles that he didn't think his life could ever be this fun or happy or messy or chaotic or exhilarating or challenging or fulfilling before coming to Beacon Hills.

But just as Derek goes to open his mouth to sing Stiles' praises, he instead finds himself roughly shoving him up against the Camaro and biting hungrily at that mouth and tongue that's been the bane of his existence. There's a surprised little squeak that Derek quickly swallows up, but it isn't long before they're both tearing at each others' clothes and fucking each other dirty in the backseat of Derek's car.

What's crazy is, after they get together, nothing in their careers really changes. The only difference is now they get to fuck each others' brains out after an intense battle in court (and the sound Stiles makes when Derek bites him is exactly what he always imagined it would sound like). They still face against each other on opposite sides in court. They still give it everything they got, no conceding even if they are dating now. Not to mention, Derek wouldn't dream of tempting Stiles over to his firm. Not when he knows Stiles is at his best staying where he's at.

The day Derek's family finally decides it's time for him to take over the firm with Laura is the best day of his and Stiles' lives.

Not only does Derek tell them he's declining, he hires Stiles as his attorney to negotiate terms against his entire family of well-seasoned lawyers.

The entire month-long negotiation results in Derek, not saying a single word, but absolutely beaming as he watches his boyfriend run circles around his mother, his father, his uncle, and both of his sisters on contracts. It's so unbelievably hot, they're banging on whatever flat surface they can get their hands on every time they leave the boardroom. There's even one very memorable blowjob in the empty hall outside the boardroom when Stiles somehow manages to get Peter to agree to a (most likely illegal) clause dictating the firm will pay Stiles a finder's fee for any pro-bono case Stiles takes on outside of Beacon Hills that strikes his fancy.

And, no one says it, but they all know Derek definitely, 100%, dragged his own firm through this negotiation just to show off how incredible Stiles is to his family and preen about it.

--

Fast-forward, Derek is going to be in the audience for the first time for one of Stiles' cases.

While waiting in the hall, Derek sees a familiar face from his New York days. The prosecution has hired the eighth best lawyer money can get, Jackson Whittemore. He's sporting a Rolex, sunglasses indoors, and the face of someone who thinks he's above literally every other person in town.

Well, at least until he sees Derek.

For some reason, Jackson seems to think Derek is all the way out in the middle of nowhere to 'watch a master at work' (which...well...is technically true...).

As Derek goes to sit in the audience, Jackson tells him in passing, "This'll be over so fast, probably won't even get a chance to learn the other guy's name."

Derek chuckles and says back, "Ooh, buddy, you have no idea."

Before Jackson can think more on that, a whirlwind of limbs and papers suddenly hurls through the doors.

Derek sits back, gets comfy, and waits eagerly for the show to begin.

My first moodboard. Hope you enjoy. AU based on a discussion with @casually-eat-my-soul (I suggest checking out their version). This was kind of like a divergence from that (the brain juices just started flowing).

[7s3ven]

Guys, I’m going feral over thinking about deer hybrid! Reader x Philip Graves. Might make this into a series if I’m bothered LOL. I like the idea.

Imagine in this au, hybrids are rare. Especially you who looks entirely human save for the white and brown freckles adorning your skin and the gentle doe ears that flick occasionally.

You were a tagged hybrid, slang for a hybrid in danger of becoming nothing more than a test subject. You were prized for your unique blend of both human and animal characteristics. However, the company holding you captive forgot one thing. You were still part animal and it was in your instincts to run.

You met Graves after you collapsed on the road while sprinting away from the laboratory, your keen ears picking up the shouts coming from the guards.

You thought yourself as lucky that a car had been passing through the area when you fell. “What is it?” Someone exited the vehicle followed by another.

“It’s a hybrid… a deer one. I think. Can’t really tell.”

“It’s clearly a deer. What else would it be? A bird?”

They bickered amongst themselves before one had the initiative to pull out a walkie talkie. “Boss, we’ve encountered a hybrid on the road. Not sure how old she is, maybe late twenties? She’s a deer hybrid, has a few wounds, and she’s tagged. Your orders? Over.”

The pair waited half a beat before there was a response.

“Why would I want a hybrid?”

“She’s one of the valuable ones, sir. Maybe she can be useful. She was running quite fast before she blacked out. Doubt she’s been fed so to run at that speed on an empty stomach is impressive.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Fine, bring her in.”

You didn’t officially meet Graves until a week later when he finally paid you a visit.

He watched in concealed awe at the way you gracefully moved, even when you were confined to a bed. You stared up at him, your soft doe eyes burning holes. He found you strangely captivating and it was in that moment he realized you could be useful after all.

Your aim with a gun was surprisingly good. If Graves was going to keep you, he needed you to be capable of protecting yourself. He spent at least a few hours each day just watching you fire a round of shots. His presence was no longer required but you seemed to enjoy his company.

Apart from Graves and the two Shadows who picked you up off the road, you didn’t speak to anyone else. You were shy to the point where sometimes, you didn’t even utter a word to Graves.

Within months, it became apparent as to where your loyalties lay. You answered to Graves and him alone. To you, his words was the law. If a command did not come from Graves, you did not follow it.

Some people found it annoying… but Graves adored it.

You followed Philip Graves everywhere he went, which also meant you tagged along on his shared mission with the Mexican Special Forces Operator and Task Force 141.

BONUS

You were his personal sniper, a gun gifted by Graves strapped to your back.

“Who’s the pretty lass?” A Scottish man asked as you trailed behind Graves. He gazed at you curiously, tilting his head.

Graves barely spared him a look. “My sniper.” He cockily answered, an undeniable smugness to his sharp words. “You don’t need to know her name.”

There were questioning looks exchanged between the teammates before Graves clicked his fingers, effortlessly gaining your attention. He leaned down, fully aware of the eyes following his every move.

“Doe.” He uttered the pet name you were accustomed to. Then he spoke in a foreign language, one only you could understand. Then he pointed at a tree nearby. You didn’t need any further instructions as you stepped forward, grasping your rifle. The others watched with raised brows, patiently waiting for something to happen.

There was a loud bang as you pressed the sensitive trigger of your gun. The bullet flew through the air, hitting the tree with pinpoint accuracy. You fired three more shots, hitting the exact same spot and drilling a hole into the trunk.

With practised ease, you lowered the gun. You heard Graves chuckle before he spoke. “Trained her myself.” He beckoned you back to his side and you obeyed without another thought.

He wrapped an arm around your waist as an act of dominance to the others. “She listens to my commands and mine only so don’t think for a second that her loyalties will change.”

Graves reached out to grasp your necklace, showing it to the whole group. It was a heart with his name engraved on it. “She belongs to me and if any of you muppets even look at her funny, it won’t end well for you.”

[mentanol]

Graves X hybrid (deer) Reader.

i have not been able to stop thinking of this. 😖🙏

In this universe, hybrids are extremely rare. Most of them are used as experimental subjects due to their rare genetics and unique features. Not to mention, they are rarely respected and in the rare change they don't live their short lives in a lab - often they are pushed to militaries.

You (Reader) are a deer hybrid, mostly human save for the deer genetics, gentle white specks flicking across your skin, and the soft doe ears hidden in your soft curls. Most hybrids were well, circus freaks - more animal than human, aggressive, unintelligent, or otherwise just a messed up scramble of genetics. That is why you are so prized, being mostly human yet maintaining that blend meant you were perfect.

Nonetheless, on a cold night in a lonely room of the company, they seemed to have forgotten some of your instincts. A door was left cracked open, and your curiosity took forth as well as your animalistic instincts to run. Slipping through the facility and running out onto the road extremely exhausted, passing out on a luckily not occupied road.

The pulling over of a loud truck could be heard as you were on the ground half unconscious. Felt a bright light, maybe from a flashlight, on your face, ( it was a gun being pointed ) As your face was visible, the gun was lowered, the barrel no longer looking directly at you.

"I found somethin'!" A southern voice barked towards a direction, followed by the opening of truck doors and steps in the direction of you. One stepped out, followed by another. Three men, three shadows.

"The hell is that?" A voice questioned lowly, stepping closer.

Another crouched down, and you felt their hand tilt your face upwards gingerly, but you lacked the recognition to see what was properly happening. Awestruck on his features for a second, a hybrid-looking humanoid was extremely rare.

"Seems like a hybrid. A deer one, I suppose?" The second one spoke, before letting go of your face, you no longer felt the feeling of calloused hands.

The second threaded a hand through his short hair in thought, his features tense before reaching for his comms.

"Boss, we found a humanoid lookin' hybrid on the street. Wounded, looks like a young adult. Do we bring her in? What are your orders? Over." He spoke into the device, as the others simply observed you for a moment.

...

"The hell would I need a hybrid for?" A southern voice cracks through , seemingly a bit annoyed. He must have been busy at the moment.

"This one's a rare one. Deer hybrids were smart - well, I heard. This one must have been really smart to escape from whatever facility they were from... " He rambled on a bit, before being interrupted by Graves.

"Bring her in, Fine." He grumbled, his southern accent tinging his words with a soft sigh after he spoke.

...

You stayed in a dull room for pretty much a month, while the shadows did cater to you as necessary you were extremely shy. As a gentle creature ( a deer ) you were a bit anxious about new people and extremely shy. You'd only have spoken to one shadow properly, the one who catered to your wounds when you first arrived.

When Graves came in you were concealed, or bound down to the bed as per usual. For a while, most of the soldiers were entranced by how graceful and fluid your movements were and Graves was no exception. The second he saw you - he decided then and there you'd be his assistant with no other words. The way your beady eyes stared up - with an odd trace of calm embedded into them told him enough for his decision to be made.

You had to be trained, before this you had never even held a gun. You were a real good shot - except for the fact you'd get a bit shaky at the loud noises. The gentle deer ears that decored your soft curls would flick and your hands would shake at the loud Bang of the weapon.

That's when Graves began to train you more often on his own, rather than getting his Shadow's to do it, he was pretty rarely free but he made time for you. Over time, you got over that fear and began to adore his company as your loyalty grew - you followed his every order without a second thought.

Your unwavering loyalty began to lay on Graves strictly quickly over the span of the few months you became an indispensable assistant. He'd bought you most , if not everything you had. He'd buy you jewelry as a small reward for doing good in trainings, plus he couldn't deny he enjoyed spoiling you. He loved dressing you up like you were his own dolly, so beaded jewelry and lacy necklaces became a normal for you when available.

As for the shy thing, that never went away - you'd hide behind him a lot. Rarely talk, you'd speak to him but even that was rare. You preferred quiet, and silent conversations. Often times he'd take you along with him for everything around the base. You have the authority to walk by him, not behind due to his affections toward you. You were such a gentle creature, how could he ever treat you as if you were below him?

... extra ;;

You were walking to the meeting hall which he was in , speaking with the Shadows . He instructed you to do some shooting practice while he was gone and report back to him once you finished with results that would satisfy him. You gentle opened the door, and his gaze met yours quickly, his features softened a tad as he beckoned you to his side. You followed suit immediately, recognizing the silent command. He wrapped an arm around your waist possessively as he continued going over mission debriefs he had to finish up. The mission has everyone extremely stressed , but he eased up with his arm around you.

....

You hated loud noises. The uneasiness, the unexpectedness, the lack of security they came with made you sick to your stomach. Despite your lack of words, that was the one thing clear about you that spoke for itself. The way when a loud thud was heard, even if you weren't outwardly startled the way you'd look toward Graves immediately, flinch toward the gun gifted to you by him you kept strapped on your back, or the way you'd examine the room immediately all pointed toward that. Nonetheless, it was a rough night - Graves had already noticed something odd with you. You were fidgeting with your hand a lot, and you kept looking around as if something was going to get you. It was the night of a big mission so the buzzing of soilders was worse than usual, military vehicles being prepped , etc riddled your soft ears.

It was nighttime, and you couldn't sleep. You typically slept on the same room as Graves - He didn't want you running. You had a bed in the same room as him, which was plush and always adorned with blankets. Hesitantly, you shifted upwards - his eyes caught the moment immediately.

" Can't sleep, doe ? " He questioned in the familiar southern accent , using the pet name he used just for you.

You let out a shaky hum as he motioned it was okay for you to climb up on his bed, which you did without hesitation as you wanted security . You had began to find security in the southern man, finding him a reliable source.

"Your okay, darlin' " He mummers, pulling you into his arms while his words were muffled by the coils on your head.

alright, this is one of my first ever writings and so please be kind to me. this was inspired by another persons great work, and i just wanted to continue on it // write my own version due to my mini obsession with it. Please let me know if anybody has requests!

edit;; OH MY GOD 98 LIKES????? HELP

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[lxvvie]

Cattle Rancher!Graves.

Welcome to the Graveyard, finest fuckin’ farm you’ve ever seen in your life! Land and cattle (and some alpacas) as far as the eye can see.

These hands ain’t just good for massages and barbecue, darlin’, oh hell no. The blood, sweat, and tears put into this place, built up into the finely tuned, well-oiled machine it is, that takes years of dedication. Bet you ain’t never seen such finely cared for and loved animals, eh, darlin’? Well look no further, you have now!

Oh… who’s the—the donkey? Oh, that’s Darla. Been protecting this farm for as long as memory serves. Hell, she probably thinks she does a better job than the dogs.

What? She don’t bite, darlin’. Promise. She just—“Dammit, Darla, I done told you to be nice to our guests. Who the hell’s gonna take me?”

Ahem. Right. Sorry ‘bout that.

Now… how ‘bout that tour, sweetheart?

[applbottmjeens]

"It's not an act of love if you make her."

-Labor, Paris Paloma

The Queen of Hearts was born out of Phillip Graves' urge to squeeze out the potential out of what he saw as his prized possession. Holding the very wellbeing and safety of her son over her head, he'd coerce her back onto the field, back to being his soldier. Once untameable, now on a chain, the wildchild she was has been broken down to a piece on the chessboard that's as hard to control as it is powerful.

Regina Cordibus.

When you live for anyone but yourself, how much of you is left?

And how do you break free?

-

BIG BIG UPS TO @sleepyconfusedpotato OH MY GOD OH MY DAYS BEHOLD HER WORK IN ALL ITS GLORY.

[femoso-seben]

Livestock AU pt. 2

pt.1,

- Kangal! Price and Llama! Alejandro are very proud of their land and territory. Alejandro only lets in a few dogs Price of course they’re old friends and Border Collie! Gaz, on one condition, Alejandro does the discipline.

- The ewes hybrid finds Alejandro very handsome and he always gets the treats the farmer gives the sheep. The small Lambs will scream and cry if they get lost and Alejandro will go rescue them.

- When rams are introduced into the herd Alejandro has to give the poor ram hybrid a long list of Dos and Don’ts (mostly don’t). Alejandro is highly protective of his ewes and will not take disrespect towards them.

- the heard of sheep is renounced for their wool production so theirs about 6,000 sheep Gaz is the only heard dog working there (because Al can not stand anyone else than agreeable Gaz)

- Gaz has befriended most of the Ewes and has a good rapport with most of the Ewes there is one older one, who gives him shit and calls him Sonny, Honey, and Sweetpea while not moving.

- Gaz does a lot of bearding of the sheep walking the parameter and reporting back to Alejandro. Alejandro spends most of his time with the Lambs or pregnant Ewes who walk the field. He chooses to be in the center of the herd.

- Price speaks with the head farmer often with Laswell to protect the farm better, then spread out to tell their underlings.

- Kangel! Ghost mostly walks around the perimeter of the farm’s land marking his territory and scenting the area to keep pesty coyotes and wolves away. Usually Barn Cat! Roach follows after Ghost

- Ghost struggles to socialize with the other dogs and sees all herds as his true family. The Farmers had to socialize with him and Ghost bonded with Price first, shadowing him before branching off

- Ghost have the deepest scariest bark and the first time all the herd animals heard it they ran for it hiding behind their guardian.

- Ghost also prefers the cats for their quietness (except for Roach who can have a one-way conversation with himself) Ghost tried to snide Laswell once got the smacking of his life (Laswell has his most respect besides Price)

- Great Pyrenees! Soap was added before Gaz but after Ghost. When the fowls were added they were too noisy for either Price or Ghost. So soap was brought in. Sociable and talkative will know all the inside bird drama from the duck, chicken, and Goose Hybrids.

- Soap spends most of his move getting the birds into their fields and feeding them before walking the inner area looking to help anyone who needs it. Usually ends up Chilling with Rudy since Al forbids him in the sheep acres (gets very sad when Gaz has to lead to do his job and not chat with him. Have tried begging Alejandro still refuses. Did cry himself asleep he really wanted to hug the fluffy ewes and lambs)

- Soap sometimes shadows Ghost and slowly his happy calmish demeanor rubs off on Soap and becomes his second bonded friend. After the morning recon, they explore the scents to see if theirs any threats, and then Soap runs off to tell Price and gather the boys

- Soap is a strong guardian dog once the fowl were moved to a field and a building was erect Soap ends up fighting off the Coyotes often at night who try to snatch one of his gossiping birdies. Ghost does Join since that’s where the action is.

- Coyote! Valeria and Soap have the most enemies-to-lover vibes while having the gayest vibes too. They flirt but in like a hateful way. Valeria has a mate somewhere and goes after the fowls mainly when she and her mate are having pups or to piss off Soap.

- Barn Cat! Laswell was gotten before any of the livestock and when both Alejandro and Price were added she instantly put them in their place. Al and Price like having her import and her inner network of barn cats from other barns do a lot of inter-barn cat political activities.

- Roach and Laswell sometimes go off for a few days to the cat conference and come back with knowledge! Once Rat! Makarov invaded and wreak other barns Laswell was very adamant about catching that criminal

- Laswell needed more men and told the Farmer she needed more soldiers that’s where Barn Cat! Farah and Alex were added and they have been waging war

- Makarov and his forces once trapped Alex and got his leg caught onset some debris. He has a permanent limp but still works as a Barn cat.

- Makarov and Konni forces live under the dirt and in tight spots spying.

- the farmers got so annoyed they gathered SpecGru hunting association (hunting dogs ready to hunt rats) they got a lot of Makarov’s forces but rats reproduce quickly so they came back

- lastly added to the man Guardian and the farm were the Goats (mostly use to make Goat cheese) was Alpaca! Rudy. A very pretty hybrid that Al instantly was attracted to. Rudy is a good alarm system but isn’t likely to fight but will.

- Alejandro saw Rudy in another field and thought about jumping the fence to chat but Gaz put him in his place

- the first-time livestock guardian 141! Ran into Wolf! Graves his shadow company pack were stalking a Goat and Rudy alerted everyone.

- a tense stand-off between Ghost, Price, and Soap. They had to use intimidation to scare off the wolves.

- German Shepard! Nik is the Farmer's personal pet and likes to come around to collect the chicken eggs and sometimes tell wild stories to the young guardian dogs (Gaz and Soap haven't decided of his tails are real or not)

- Young Barn Cat! Reader tends to follow Laswell around and sit in the garden and sunbathe, stalk the chicks, and get chased off by Soap.

- Kitten! Reader and Makarov got beef after the giant ass Rat Makarov popped up next to Kitten! Reader. 141 are now on the lookout for the giant rat.

- soon once Cat! Reader grows up they will join the fight against Makarov and Konni group

--------------

Any request for this AU is welcomed!

inspired a little by @tacticalanklebiter3000 and @frogchiro

[mortal-kombattore-115]

🍁♠️Shadow Company! Julie "Sparks" Cheung ♠️🍁

[http-paprika]

Under the Orange Sky / Phillip Graves

cowboy!au / pairing philip graves x wife!reader / wc 1027 / warnings suggestive content, nondescript mentions of nudity, allusions to sex

summery her husband has always been a stranger to her, but one day when he returns from the fields, Phillip's behavior towards her has changed.

notes here's the second poll fanfic, not as long as i thought it would be, but satisfying still. no use of y/n. the story takes place during the turn of the 20th century in western texas.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Her husband was a stranger, despite the five years she’d spent tied down to him, living in the wild of Texas, far from town, far from her parents; he stayed estranged. Leaving early in the morning before the sun rose over the jagged mountains, returning late in the evenings when she was already in bed, trying to sleep, she seldomly saw Phillip ‘cept for Sundays, on the Lord’s day of rest. Yet still on those days, he was distant from her, withdrawn, solemn, never touching, and only a few stray glances. It was hard for her to remember that charming, proud man who’d swept her off her feet, who flattered her mother and talked business with her father. 

Closing her eyes, laying her head against the back of the tub, she could hear the faint rumbling of hooves, the barking of cattle dogs, and the distinct sound of her husband’s voice. It was early, too early compared to the usual time of his arrival. The sun still hung in the sky, just below the mountains and spilling light into the washroom, remnants of dinner lay on the table waiting for him, lukewarm, and she felt her throat constrict as the sound of his footsteps heavy against the wooden floors of the home. 

The door opens, creaking on its rusty hinges, his blue-eyed gaze falls on her bare figure as Phillip approaches her. Dirty, tall, stern. Removing the black, worn glove off of his hand, it moves down and cups her chin, making her look up at him. Swallowing harshly, she fights the temptation to yank away and look elsewhere, not wanting to invoke the anger she’d seen him possess before. The feeling of his rough and calloused skin against her chin, and the deep gaze of his eyes causes a shiver to run down her spine and a low chuckle to escape his mouth. 

“Do you plan on getting ill, bathing in water this cold?” Phillip asks, removing his other glove before beginning to undo the buttons of his shirt, his overcoat hung up by the door along with his boots. His wife hadn’t even noticed that the water had turned cold around her, or the ache in her chest as she watched her husband slowly undress, folding his clothes and laying them neatly in a pile on the stool next to hers. 

Before she can finally connect the words to ask, he settles into the tub behind her. The warmth of his skin from being out under the Texan sun seeps into her as his hands move to his wife’s shoulder blades. They begin drawing tight circles with his thumbs which causes her to sit up straighter in the bath, stiff with nerves. This wasn’t unfamiliar to her, she knew Phillip’s touch, and with heat pooling to her cheeks, could remember different nights when he’d woken her up and left her sore in the morning. But it was still as strange to her as Phillip was. 

“Relax, doll.” His voice comes out cool, albeit gravely, as Phillip speaks to her. Keeping his hands fixed on her shoulder blades, he brings her back until she’s resting against his broad chest. The rosy blush stays on her cheeks and his nose presses against the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of soap she’d used to cleanse her skin and hair. Staying beneath his grasp, the rising and falling of her chest begins to slow as she realizes his actions are gentle, slow, and considerate of her. Not like before where she had the innate sensation of being a deer that’s being hunted by a coyote. Instead, it reminds her of a book she once read as a young girl, and the pink tint of her cheeks turns into a violent shade of red. 

“Didn’t I say to relax?” Phillip states, once again bringing his hand back to cup her chin so she has to turn her head to look at him. His gaze transfixed on her face, the haze in her eyes and the soft swell of her lips. The way she appeared was so heavenly, that even a holy man would find himself sinning. Pride swelled in Phillip’s chest as he acknowledged the fact that she was his, his wife, his girl. She, on the other hand, felt like the world was spinning around her as she tried to figure out what had happened to her distant husband, Phillip had never done this before. He’d never been so attentive, even when they courted and he had left her feeling dazed and confused. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She finally gets the courage to ask, feeling stupid as the words left her mouth. There was almost a sense of adoration as his thumb grazed her lips, a desire that was not primal, but loving. 

“Like how a husband should look at his wife?” Phillip’s voice comes out calmly, yet it still sends shivers down her spine. He chuckles again, relishing in the reaction he receives, enjoying the way her face turns flush and how she looks away from him. “What’s wrong, doll? Would you rather me leave?” 

“No.” Yes, no, she didn’t know what she wanted. The feeling of her stomach tightening as his hands dip down to rest on her hips leaves her unsure and startled. Phillip’s rough lips move to her neck, peppering small, light kisses on her cool skin.

“You’re still cold, doll.” His hands run up her side, the calloused palms rubbing against her plush, soft skin, her breathing hitches as she leans back against him. Letting logic and sensibility fall to the side, her hands fall on top of his, nails grazing against the back of his hands. “Let me help with that.” 

The man behind her was still a stranger, but there was a burning desire in the bottom of her stomach to know him. To find the reason for his sudden change, to touch him, bask in the warmth of his skin, and mindlessly confess everything to him. Phillip Graves was like the sun, lighting her up and painting her skies in shades she’d never known.

[thechaoticcheese]

"Hey Dad, just wanted to update you on a couple of things." Gary started out, speaking softly, his voice soft and caring.

Roach Shadow Company AU - Chapter 1 - Roach

Gary stepped out into the hallway after being seen by medical, smiling to himself as he pulled out his phone. While he preferred video calls or texting, he wanted to speak to his dad about his new nickname, or call sign, as the other Shadows call it.

He put his phone up to his ear as he sauntered through the mostly empty hallway, a few Shadows walking past or just taking a break from the rough training session they just had. The phone took its time to ring. Gary knew it would be a one in a million shot of his dad answering his phone at this time of day, if he remembered right he should be eating with his mom.

The last ring went through before he heard his old man's slightly gruff voice answer, "This is Derek's phone, leave a message." Then a long beep to let Gary know that the voice message was recording.

"Hey Dad, just giving you the weekly update. I got a couple of things this time." Gary started out, speaking softly, his voice soft and caring. "I was able to complete one of the hardest trainings out there for Shadow Company. It was a pain in the ass..." He paused remembering the training from earlier that week.

...

It had been a full downpour that day, the goal was to sneak into an abandoned building they used for training with no one spotting you, it didn't matter if they were 'dead' or not. And the worst part? You weren't given any gear. It was a worse case scenario training to still achieve the mission.

Gary remembered rolling himself in the mud, reapplying it every so often as he 'killed' enemies while he made his way there. The 'enemies' were older, way more experienced, Shadow soldiers. That chunk of the memory was somewhat of a blur, but he remembered getting compromised, or well, almost.

There were three Shadows just idly chatting with each other, watching each other's back. Gary had taken out most of the other Shadows in hand to hand combat with aches all over his body and scratches and bruises to match. He was able to take out two before the third shot his side with a paintball gun, if it wasn't for the rest of the training mission being underground and this being the last trio above, he definitely would've failed.

After taking care of the last of the trio, he wrapped his 'wound' up, knowing that he'd be told when he'd lose too much blood and fail.

Next was to deal with the Shadows inside. He pocketed some rocks, grabbed one of the pistols and headed inside. He could remember slowly stepping down the steps with the prop knife in hand and feeling the warmth meet his skin. Gary had stopped to let himself warm up for a few seconds as he scanned the hallways, watching as his ‘enemies’ scouted the halls.

The American took a deep breath as he waited for one to walk by, grabbing them and using his prop knife to stab them in the neck. The person seemed absolutely surprised by this, but went limp as the knife left their neck. Gary gently placed them on the floor before moving on. He needed to go left, second door to the right, the 'intel' would be there, heavily guarded. As long as he got everyone in the room and escaped, he'd win.

He pocketed the pistol, and picked up the Salvo that the downed man had, holding it tightly to his chest as he slowly dragged his back against the wall, clearing any rooms swiftly before mowing down the last room and retrieving the briefcase. As he was walked out of the room, he saw and felt an elbow meet his face, causing him to stumble back. He raised the Salvo, shooting once before realizing it was out of ammo as it shot the last attacker in the shoulder.

Gary darted to a nearby desk, tossing the intel behind it, pulling out his pistol and shooting another shot at his 'enemy'. He hoped it’d give him some time to get behind the cover before seeing how much ammo he had in the pistol. 5 shots. Excellent.

He peeked his head out, scanning his surroundings before seeing the person peer out and aim at Gary, the male quickly pulling back as he heard splattering paintball ammunition hit the desk. He fired back twice, three shots left.

That's when he heard movement. He peaked out and shot twice again, hitting one of the man's legs, causing him to tumble down. With the last shot, he was able to get a headshot on the soldier. Gary let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding before grabbing another Salvo, making sure it had ammo in it, then leaving, clearing out the rest of the building for no more sneak attacks.

He walked out feeling like shit as he panted, carrying the briefcase back to the fake exfil point where Graves was waiting. A look of surprise, but admiration crossed the older man's face as he nodded.

"Congratulations son. You've completed one of the hardest missions we got. Now you look like shit, Andy. Let's get ya back to base and have the medics take a look at you, yeah?" Graves complimented Gary with a smile, using the false name he signed up with, Andy Garrickson. He wished he had chosen something else, having realized too soon that it sounded like Gary Sanderson, but he didn't care because it was too late anyways.

On the way back to base, people kept complimenting Gary, one piping up and saying, "The way he kept going was almost like a roach!" After that, people loudly agreed with them before they started to chant, "Roach! Roach! Roach!"

...

His mind zoned back in on the call he was making to his dad, "It was great though, taught me a good few tricks. It also gave me my nickname, Roach. I hope you and Mom are doing ok. Love you." With those final words, he ended the call and put his phone back into his pocket, entering his shared room.

"Hey Roach, you stick it to 'em today?" Jet asked with a smile.

Roach nodded with a smile, 'As much as I could' He signed in return.

~~~~~~~~~~

@fastleopard1521 - @whateverdraws1008 - @glitter-anon-asks - @olibird

[jgvfhl]

The bastard man himself, the final drawing I prepared for this animal shifter/therian au :) Literally had to be a coyote, that animal is labeled as the Trickster in... pretty much every North American indigenous religion that encountered coyotes??? It's perfect! Lore below :]

An interesting specimen, this guy. He very rarely shifts or changes at all, so if he is, something is Very Wrong for someone (probably you). With that projection of control, Graves' ears are rarely as expressive as the average therian's, which can unnerve many people when they notice his ears haven't moved in twenty minutes of conversation. Same with his tail (sadly not pictured...). That said, when he DOES shift, like in Las Almas when hunting down Ghost and Soap, he has heterochromia, just for fun.

Being a small predator in the military is not fun tho, he definitely has some Issues after being a notably scrappy, scrawny predator in the American military-industrial complex. But he starts to own it after founding ShadCo, hence the "yip yip".

Alejandro and Rudy hate this man's guts. They call him perrito blanco behind his back. Or in front of it. They don't fuckin' care. They only like El Fantasma okay? They have one (1) canine friend, and it's not Graves. (that's false, there are definitely caninthropes in LVQ)

Soap & Ghost & Gaz || Nik & Price || Alejandro & Rudy

@worldseer @pampanope @cod-dump @midnight193 @totally-not-fandom @daftdrac

[perry-the-platypus-f1cs]

My Dadler and Graveson Au in order!

Ok so this is basically an organization post for my dadler and graveson au+141

this specific au is where Adler becomes 141's handler after shepards courtcase.

first mention of au (its number 5 on the list) post

2. 141 reactions and interactions with adler post

3. 141 reaction to finding out Adler is phillip dad post

4. Wood's introduction to 141 post

5. Headcannons for this au post

6. pt2 of wood's introduction post

7. pt3 of wood's introduction post

8. 141 reaction to woods post

[diejager]

My deep dark desire for a distillery au wherein each force is a competing distillery and you yeet an expert taster reader in there who is in charge of judging each whisky and ranking them. Either they are pulling out all the stops on your tour and treating you like a princess or doing the opposite and threatening you to rank them the highest :')

Mhairi, I am the worse person to ask about whiskey, my parents have delicious smelling ones, fruity and spicy ones, but taste wise? I gag like there’s no tomorrow, especially gin!! I hate gin. The only thing I can stomach so far is sweet, coffee and cream flavoured Baileys Irish Cream. (I know there’s Irish whiskey in it, but it’s only 17% compared to the 40% of any other whiskeys)

Eau De Vie Cw: Alcohol drinking, whiskey taste, tell me if I missed any.

Whisky had always been your favourite, your little secret that you shared with your closest friends alone —your penchent for judging whiskeys and bourbons alone, managing to include rum and brandy in rare occasions. So when you were approached by a known figure in the Whiskey industry that acted as the face for many distilleries across the world, you couldn’t turn down the offer when you were given so much in a simple deal.

You were responsible to drink and rank many popular brands by taste and smell alone, the only person delegated to become the judge. You were given the privilege of taking home a bottle of each brand after this competition, another reason to accept it. So you signed the contract without a second of hesitation, shaking her hand to conclude the deal before she left you squirming with excitement in your office home.

You were flown from your city to a calm part of the Scottish countryside, a chalet overlooking the Scottish highlands and its green beauty. This was the quaint house you would temporarily live in with the rest of the team orchestrating this friendly competition, leaving the connecting house up the cliff side to the different distilleries. From what you’ve heard, Kate Laswell - Kate you called her after a few meetings that had fully bloomed into a friendship of alcohol connoissoir - the participating teams were the British company 141 - who in coalition to Chimera and the ULF - would represent their alliance, the American Shadows, the multi-national KorTac and the Russian brewery Konni. They were all popular brands distilling whiskey and brandy in their own countries, creating a plethora of tastes and sensations that would explode on your tongue after a few sips.

You were ecstatic, your mouth salivating at the simple thought of tasting the finest whiskeys from around the world, but you had a few days to rest and tour the side of Scotland you were shipped to. What you expected to be calm and mild-mannered men and women from their side of the world to meet and eat with refined etiquette, was shattered the second you peered through the door after walking down the connecting path from your chalet to their house.

They were loud, rambunctious in the very sense of it, loud and jovial, hurling insults and hissing out jeers at one another. It was a dogfight between brewers, like cats and dogs. You felt like a stranger, gawking at the group hurling words at one another until it all stopped, the open living room falling in silence when they heard you drop your bag on the polished wood. You’ve never seen humans move so fast until the second after the silence, scrambling to clean the room up and wooing you with their compliments and sweet pleasantries to appease you.

They gave you a tour of the house, the rich wine cellar that was open to you whenever you wanted a drink, the wooden patio that had it’s own lounge and bar, and the various rooms in the mansion-like chalet. They all vied for your attention, ripping one another’s throat to have a second of your attention, kissing up to you with sweet compliments and even sweeter praises.

The Brits - well, three English and one Scott - were a good mix of mature and zealousness, low voices and near-overwhelming figures with their broad shoulders and stocky mass. They came with other people to represent their company: Farah and her devoted Alex from ULF, and the crude Nikolai and Krueger from Chimera.

The Shadows were American, the most American you’ve ever seen, energetic and determined to win you over, and the CEO, a man with a southern accent and a seductive smirk, swiping you off your feet with pet names that made you fluster.

KorTac had as many accents as they had people of different countries, both men and women skilled in multiple languages and conversing so fluently that you started to question if you were on the same planet.

Konni was rough on the edges, their leading figure as scheming as he was gentlemanly, his thin lips letting out the most vicious praises to have you squirming under his dark gaze and unmoving determination for the win.

Days later, you met them at the compound farther down the road, away from the beauty of the coast and cliff, a long table exposing their finest to you. Poured in a cups, one with ice and another without, they were left for you to decide which would win the prize for both straight and on the rocks. Today was the day you would nominate one as the best, standing higher than everyone else without bias despite the times they rendered you a flustered mess and made you unendingly grateful for their help.

Your pallet exploded with flavour every time you sipped on a different brand, eyes rolling to the back of your head with the deliciousness of every bottle. 141 brought three bottles of their aged whiskey: a smoky Scotch Whisky made in the same Highlands you were tasting it, the bitter spiciness of rye whiskey from the American branch of the ULF - credits to Alex for introducing it - and the woody and fruity aroma of Chimera’s whiskey. Shadows had brought - unsurprisingly - their most popular types of whiskey to the table: Bourbon made in their own distillery in Kentucky, a sweet and mellow sub-type of their first one and the smooth flavour of their wheat whiskey. KorTac had a large variety to it’s collection: a floral tasting whiskey that outmatched Hibiki Harmony, a nutty sensation of a bottle made in Ireland and the rich and peaty on of a danish-made bottle. And finally, three Russian bottles from the biggest distillery in Russia: a sweet and smoky bottle, a second one with rich malt and honey, and a third focusing on aroma with it’s spicy odour and fruity taste.

They were all so delicious, if you had these bottles when you working at the bar, mixing concoctions for paying clients, you would’ve been overjoyed, but those days were long gone, your priority standing elsewhere than fulfilling your dream. Truthfully, you didn’t know who to give the medal, the flavours so vast and unique. Perhaps they wouldn’t mind if you took a second or third sip just to be sure.

Part 2

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

[islandtarochips]

COD x PURGE AU

John Price:

Ex-Military (Use to be the Captain and was retired due to his leg problem)

Use to live in UK and moved into the state to get away from the military memories (and he thought him getting away from killing anyone are over)

He's just a citizen man TRYING to enjoy his retirement. Until he heard about the Purge events.

Doesn't trust anyone beyond his door and always stays inside no matter what

A grumpy old (not really old but he is to me) man

Lives in New York

Has been in the Purge ever since it started (So like 7 years)

Had met Gaz when he and his little brother stumble into his home which he should've sworn that he locked everything

Decided to let them stay before meeting another new members who came into his house

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

A citizen man working in his father's shop. Just a regular store.

His old friend, named Soap, helped him running the shop

Lives in New York, use to live in UK

Protecting his family is his number one priority

His family and the store got attacked by the group of Shadow Company during Purge Night

As he only took his little brother from there while his parents were already killed by them

Stumbled into Price's place accidentally trying to hide from that one of the Shadows who were hunting him and his brother down

Was relieved that Price let them stay in for now until the end of Purge night as long they do as he say

Has been in the Purge for only 5 years after moving into the state until now

John "Soap" MacTavish:

Another fellow citizen men, who is just living him by himself but is working at his old friend's shop

Wanting to go back to Scotland to see his family but decided to stay and help his friend by protecting the shop and the family

Got separated from Gaz and the brother when the Shadow Company invaded the shop

Got a bullet wound on the shoulder and was hunted down by one of the Shadows

Suddenly been saved by a strange man with a skull mask who shot the Shadow down and gotten his wound patched up

Has been stuck in the Purge for 5 years

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Ex-Military (Was a Lieutenant)

Had moved into the state after hearing about the Purge. Wanting to find that person who had killed his family.

Has been part of the Purging ever since it first started

Already found the murderer as he killed them until he was being attacked by the killer's partner. (Got some scars on the face because of them)

Until he was being helped by someone to be patched up and they suddenly got shot by one of the Purger (he already dealt with them) and fled off when someone else saw him with a dead body

He wore a skull mask to hide his identity while trying to survive in this chaos

Been in the Purge ever since it had started (7 years)

Kate Laswell:

Is working on finding out the truth of this "New Project". Wanting to share it to the WORLD of how it turned out to be.

Was hunted down by Shepherd and the Shadow Company when they find out about her tinkering into their systems

Got a help from Alex for protection and also a help from someone who had given her some intel about the Purge system

Was trying to look for Price since the last time they have talked was before his retirement

Wanting to team up with him to find a way to stop Shepherd and his project

Has been in the Purge for 7 years and is still being hunted down by them

Alex Keller:

An Officer assisting Laswell when he was been told by her that she's being hunted down

Will do anything to help her and stopping these Purge games

Has also been hunted by his own fellow officers who were ALSO part of the Purging (that's a BIG problem)

Also been in the Purge for 7 years

Hershel Shepherd:

Is the one who is in charge and the one who created the Purge

He created this Purge to lower down the criminal by letting them turn against each other

Shepherd even let his own Mercenary to finish the REST of the job before the Purging ENDED

Finds out about Laswell trying to stop this system so decided to order his men to hunt her down and deal with her

Have been trying to hunt down Laswell ever since but kept failing to retrieve her

Still being active on this Purge thing for 7 fucking years

Philip Graves:

Commander of the Shadow Company and is working for Shepherd

He doesn't enjoy killing to be honest (he has no choice)

Does usually hesitated when he found Soap in the scene (use to be best buddies before he joined in the Shadow Company)

Was being ordered to find Laswell and deal with her

7 years that he's been working for Shepherd when the Purge started

Alright! That's all I have for now! I shall post another one of the other COD Characters! Or reblogged when I changed it! And now, I would like to show my COD OCs info on here!

Tiala "Shark" Toa:

A regular citizen

Had gotten kidnapped by one of the crazy Purgers on her first night of Purge. Didn't end well but escaped....with a burnt mark.

Was actually searching for her older brother until she saw someone was holding her dead brother's body before they fled off from the scene

Has been having that anger inside of her for 7 years now

Has been trying to search for this man for YEARS now but have to focus on protecting her family while at it

Is part of the resistance and is in Kanoa's group

Kanoa Toa:

Ex-Military (A Captain of the Marines)

One of Tiala's older brother (not the dead one)

Was in charge of his own group of the resistance opposing these Purge event

Managing helping and saving everyone and taking them to the safe place

Wanting to protect his family

Has been in this hellhole for 7 years now

Alana Kalani:

Ex-Military (was a General before retiring)

Was called in by Shepherd asking for her expertise of helping him with this project that she was not aware of

After seeing that this project has been released, she started to back down from it but was threatened by Shepherd if she does not continue this. Her family will be in danger.

She had secretly give the intel to Laswell as careful as she can not wanting to get caught

Has been dealing with this chaos events for 7 years now and is still trying to find out of how to stop this

Aelan Kalani:

The daughter of Alana and is a nurse in this AU

She drives around in a van seeing if there's anyone that needed help and will take them back to the safe place

She stayed with her Uncle while her mother was working on that first Purge night

She worried every year for her mother's safety during Purge night hearing that she's been taken and hidden under Shepherd's eyes

She takes her job very seriously when it comes to injure or sick patience

7 years in the Purge events

Agnes "Blast" Falagi:

Just a regular citizen and a student in this AU

Had moved into the state with her parents in the 3rd year of Purge. Just trying to go to college to get her degree of learning some mechanics and other things that is related to bomb making. Unaware of the events that are going on that night.

Had lost her father by one of the Purgers but both her and her mom was saved by one of the resistance.

And started working with them ever since while still going to college.

She already graduated from College after 4 years and now she needed to find a job

Nigel "Squirrel" Harrison:

Is the member of the Shadow Company ever since the Purge had started

Joined in the team to get money for his family and want to help his dad (who is working for Shepherd as well) and want the protection for them as well

Hesitated sometimes when it comes to shooting family down

Had been working with them for 7 years now

Callie "Snipe" Graves:

The Second in Command of the Shadow Company

Had always enjoy killing people on the spot not caring of how she hurt

Got the skills of a handy sniper as she knows how to shoot a target

Was the one who killed her father who was abusively hurting her and her brother (that is when she started to enjoy hurting people)

And that's that! Thank you for reading this far and if you see anything that I did wrong. Do let me know down in the comment section! I will retype it! And I will add more info of the other COD Characters and my other OCs!

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[queermentaldisaster]

Graves's thralls can pass for normal, but the one thing that'll tip anyone off to them being a thrall is their eyes. Their eyes are permanently bloodshot and dull, almost like a dead person's eyes. Blank and lifeless.