#ancient god John price

[elysianightsss]

Ughhhh polll whyyyyyy don’t sleep on the idea of Ancient God!Price, not into GOT for the currently winning fic Squishy how many puppy dog eyes do I need to give you for you to write that after the poll fic is done? I’m not gonna make you change it cuz that’s reaaaaally rude and I don’t wanna be rude but your Price writing is just 😘 and I *neeeeeeed* that Ancient God!Price in my life-

No puppy dog eyes needed love, I was secretly hoping for this one to win too lol.

I think everyone needs a little Ancient God Price in their lives, so here’s a little snippet to tide you over while I write the Aemond fic.

Rejection. Open and hollow, stinging like a cat scratch, it’s monumental and abstract and it’s everything you never knew you wanted. Being rejected put you in this position, you could say it made you vulnerable but with the way his rough calloused hands manoeuvred over your soft skin, you could say it was worth it.

The way his half mast cerulean eyes raked over you, a prize to be earned. Something he’s going to win, not that he knows that yet. You’ll make him work for it, that much he does know though.

You’re deep in the infatuation of it even if you wish that’s not true. You relish in the feeling of his gaze on you, soft but yet somehow cold and distant. It sparks an interest in you, you thought long gone. Dead and buried. The ends of it frayed like the neurons of your brain. Unravelled and worn at the edges.

Something dark and deceitful urges you to step forward, tempting you with the musky aroma of him. Something you’d like to devour whole if you could. The faint redolence of cigar smoke hung on his clothes.

He licked his thin chapped lips imagining the way his tongue would slide over your supple skin and despite the dull gnawing of insecurity that has grown since adolescence, you can imagine it too. His willpower hedging with every moment that slowly passes by, every moment that agonisingly ticks by.

The sweet decadence of your pulsing cunt hangs in the cold air, your nipples pebbling beneath your cotton night gown. He breathes in deep, harsh. A hint of mania colored his grin as he groans at the smell of you, the scent you’re exposing yourself to him with. A poor little bunny trapped in the lions den….

[luxcuriousao3]

Task Force 141 + Eyes

"You know what they say. Eyes are the windows to the soul..."

Ghost

Ghost with eyes like onyx; hard, cold, soulless gems glaring out of his skull-shaped mask. "Eyes like the grim reaper," his enemies whisper amongst themselves. "Meet them, and he'll drag your soul back to hell with him." Lieutenant Riley with eyes like freshly overturned earth, the same color as the dirt that rained down on him in the grave he was buried in long ago. Eyes that peer at you from over the rim of his pint glass the first time he ever sees you, curiosity stirring in those near-black depths. Simon with eyes like molasses, dark and sticky and languid as they look down at you through dirty blonde lashes. A low, gravelly, “Good morning, love,” rumbles out of his cavernous chest, sleep clinging to every inch of him—from his smoky eyes, to his deep morning voice, to the relaxed splay of his fingers on your belly, round with his child.

Soap

Soap with eyes like chips of ice when he’s in the field, a flaming frost that burns hot and cold. Sergeant John MacTavish with eyes like the lochs of his homeland, bright blue and inviting as he picks you up for your first date, a roguish, cheeky grin on his face and air of near arrogance that you soon learn is well deserved. But lurking beneath the deceptively calm surface, there’s something with sharp teeth and powerful jaws. A predator. Johnny with eyes like the aquamarine of your engagement ring, sparkling and precious and glittering with joy as he reads you his vows—never a poet but having worked harder than on any mission to scribble the words on the paper in front of him. The paper that shakes in his grasp while tears well up in those diamond eyes at the absolute vision you make, his bonnie lamb, his lovely lass, his wife.

Price

Bravo-6 with eyes like stormy seas, the choppy waters of his irises grey-blue and deadly. As vast as the ocean and hiding as many secrets—not a single soul will ever truly know every inch of the abyss. Captain Price with eyes like reflecting pools, still and tranquil and showing you yourself as you gaze into them. Stoic but beautiful blue eyes that give nothing away about the man that they belong to, and yet seem to know everything about you with one glance—a heady feeling. John with eyes that you would happily drown in. The crinkles at the corners mimic the little ripples a rock makes when he teaches you how to skip it across the lake he brings you to on your anniversary every year—the place where he first told you he loved you.

Gaz

Gaz with eyes like an ancient god of war, the pitch-dark irises swirling with a hunger for vengeance, a hunger for justice. They can tell him when, and they can tell him where. But they can’t tell him how. Sergeant Garrick with eyes like a well-aged whiskey, and the same ability to warm you from the inside out and make you trip over your words. You’re trapped in his inky amber gaze like a bug as he smiles at you from across the room—but you don’t want to escape. Kyle with eyes like nutty chocolate and a perfectly brewed cuppa, eyes that feel like home. Eyes the same color as the rosewood of the crib that your precious child sleeps in—always peacefully resting through the night, rocked to sleep in their Papa’s arms as he sings them lullabies in his velvety voice.

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Deity! 141 AU HCs

A/N: Just some ramblings about the 141 as deities in my poly AU

(18+ only)

Please comment and reblog!

Captain John Price

God of the East Woods, who is represented by winter. He is known for his leadership skills, analytical abilities, and good faith in his men.

As he is known for leadership skills, he is known as the god most worshiped by leaders who seek guidance in their ability to command others. He is also known for being the one sought out by outcasts who are looking for community. He’ll help you find your way, don’t you worry. You belong somewhere; we just have to find where.

Contrary to popular belief, John does not participate in assisting those who force their command over others. He believes in leading by example and earning the privilege of leadership.

 He is most closely associated with cold metal, with his altar decorated in winter wreaths, warm spices, and delicate metalwork.

Kyle Garrick

God of the North Woods, represented by Spring and water. He is courageous, knowledgeable in the social and environmental climate, and can foresee the cause and effects of many actions on the battlefield.

He is worshiped by those beginning new endeavors. As the youngest and newest god (which, how new can ancient beings really be?), myths range from his grand displays of courage to self-doubt. His stories paint imagery of humbleness and of an eager learner. To those seeking new starts, he is the perfect divine being to guide you to ask questions and be courageous in the midst of change.

Kyle, while known best for being the god of changes, is also the patron of mystics for his foreseeing abilities (and beauticians. He likes his skincare and pretty things). As the foreseeing one, he knows all the outcomes and can assist divination practitioners in seeking knowledge of the future.

Just because Kyle can help doesn’t mean he will. Many fortune-tellers have reported trickery and confusion trying to get answers from him. He likes his jokes and finds seeing humans guessing about the future amusing. Won’t they find out eventually?

 His altar is decorated with bowls of water representing spring rain and winds. As spring flowers bloom, they are also decorated upon his altar. The seed of each planted crop is represented on the altar as a blessing for a productive sowing season.

Johnny McTavish

The god of summer and of the southlands. McTavish is known for quick, fiery actions mirrored by a thunderstorm's quick turn or a wildfire's spark.

While he might have fiery emotions, the god is methodological in his delivery of quick actions. For this reason, if you need help finding passion, McTavish is the god for you. He is the patron of athletes and artisans who harness passion into practice and dedication to their craft.

The god of summer is precise! If you seek his help, be specific and think about what you need versus what you want. His help will come on his timing, but it’ll be exactly what you asked for. He finds it funny when mortals get upset by this. Usually, if he is going to be helpful to the mortals, it is on his terms and conditions, and you’ll know by a sudden splash of warmth on your skin or by the way events just so happen to align that it could only be the work of a god.

His altar is decorated with an always-lit candle. There are summer fruits in bowls and an icon of a thunderbolt descending from the sky to represent his passions.

The one they call “Ghost”

The god of the south and autumn season, mortals know the least about him. His mythology is sparse, usually featuring him as a supporting character in someone else’s myth (usually Johnny’s) with a dry sense of humor.

He is the god of the ground that is transitioning into hibernation, the god of intelligence, knowing when to take ground and when to give ground. He is the wisdom gained from remembering the bones and dust from whence you came. He is the patron of the elderly and wise, of those who understand the power of listening before speaking to the aged ideals that came before you.

Hidden by shadows of the unknown, protected by the bones of the dying, Ghost is not a death god, but he represents the bridge between mortals and the spiritual, helping those who are dying.

Ghost is not a god you call upon lightly. He will make you search your shadows, forcing you to gaze upon those fearsome things that hide in all mortal souls. If you ask to see the divine, he will show you it when you are ready. But it will not look pretty or neat or holy. It will be sacred in its raw, awesome terror, a power unleashed that mortals cannot grasp.

Ghost’s alter typically has a buck skull on it- the first buck killed of the season. Black and grey altar cloths are laid beneath the walnut bowls holding the nuts and acorns offered to the god.

Once upon a time, there were four gods. Together, they took turns helping the mortals. But what spirit connects them all, centering their efforts? Of what clear mission banner do they unite under? To whom is the focal point of life’s great mysteries? It had always been assumed human mortals as a collective to be that focal point. But the myths do not end with the death of the old. They continue and will grow with the next generations and generations next.

[pfhwrittes]

have a chunk of tradie!141 for your reading pleasure.

it's fuckin' pourin' down, has been for the last 3 days and the forecast ain't getting any better. thick, claggy muck sucks at the soles of simon's boots, threatening to pull 'em straight off his feet as he crosses the quagmire to slip into the portakabin-cum-office where he knows his skipper'll be.

price is fumin' under his hard hat, his ancient brick of a phone glued to his ear as he barks out demands to whichever poor sod is gettin' an earful off the boss today (probably nik, who straight up refused to drive onto site, stating bold as brass that the wagon would get bogged down, fuck the delay, captain. i'm not hurting my girl for your timetable).

with a disgusted snort price throws the offending phone onto the cluttered desk sending a sheaf of papers careening onto the floor.

"fucks sake, riley. what d'ya want?" price growls out in his direction and simon just lifts a battered eyebrow at the tone. no point gettin' his knickers in a twist over weather but price has always thought himself better than acts of nature and god himself.

"told the lads to put the tools down and go 'ome."

if looks could kill, simon would be buried in a shallow grave under the portaloo. price's face is as stormy as the sky rumbling ominously outside.

"well tell 'em to pick them back up, for fucks sake! we've got a fucking job to do here, simon." price snaps, his patience well and truly gone and it isn't even dinner time by simon's watch.

simon's hi-vis jacket creaks forebodingly as he straightens up.

"no."

there's a beat as simon squares off against his skipper, the unstoppable force of john price smashing against simon's immovable iron will. simon's known john a long fuckin' time and he'll play dirty to keep the crew safe if he has to. john's seen him walk off jobs for less.

price sighs noisily, ruffling the ends of his moustache.

"right then. who're we losing?"

"gaz can't work with the humidity, ale and rudy can't paint if gaz ain't finished the plaster, don't trust soap not to fry 'isself, and flash is sat in the van dryin' out." simon counts off on his fingers.

price's eyebrows hike up to his hairline at the mention of the plumber's apprentice.

"'s matter with flash?"

simon chuckles at the memory of flash covered head to toe in mud after an unfortunate tumble.

"debuted 'is mud-wrestlin' career f'r us."

price snorts out an amused sound and shakes his head. poor sod'll be miserable for the rest of the day without any spare kit to change into.

"right, go on then. tell 'em they can fuck off for the day." price reaches for his abandoned phone, probably to tell the client, some jumped up property developer-slash-social media wanker, that the job's been delayed by the shit weather. (simon doesn't envy him in the slightest, last time he met her she looked him up and down like he was scum and he was tempted to "accidentally" score the side of her flash car with the end of a length of 22mm copper pipe.)

simon offers price a nod and turns towards the door of the 'kabin, hooking the flimsy hood of his jacket over his head.

"oi, riley. you better not have stuck flash in my van."

"nah, stuck 'im in with soap and gaz. i ain't gettin' that shit on our seats."

price's barking laugh follows simon out the door into the pissing rain.

[yeetmyboi]

Knight!Johnathan Price x Princess!Reader 🗡️🌿🌟

— — —

You’re a princess from a long bloodline of nobles, descending from the gods themselves. The pearlescent blood in your veins is proof enough. If not, then your gift of visions surely would be.

John is your chosen Head Knight (and possibly the whole task force as well because harem lol), sworn to protect the next monarch in line for the throne for the rest of his life. And being that you are descended from the gods, it is deemed blasphemous for a mortal/commoner to touch you (again, because harem). So, not only is John sworn to be your guard—but also a companion and lover (platonic and romantic).

You tend make his job harder than it needs to be. Constant attempts to avoid stuffy events with other nobles. Evading any mentoring lessons. Slipping out to the village whenever possible. It’s all a common thing with you.

One day, you manage to slip out once more.

With a cape and headscarf (typical ‘I’m blending in’ princess disguise), you manage to wander the village. A small pull in the pit of your gut guides your feet this time. This isn’t like all your other escapades, no, something’s calling for you.

It isn’t until John finds you in the shady underbelly of the city, the home of dark alley deals and illicit activities, that you realize you’ve had visions of this. His hand gently grasps your elbow, slightly tugging you out of the trance-like state you’ve been pulled into.

“Your highness,” he intones, “I believe you’ve wandered a touch too far from the light.” His eyes are stern but hold a flicker of something softer. "It's time to return. Your absence has not gone unnoticed."

He attempts to pull you away from the various stalls and merchants that you’ve been wandering down. Usually you admit defeat when caught, but now you’re fighting against his gentle hold. Something’s not right. John picks up on this and it uneases him.

Your feet stay planted. You have yet to find what you seek. You tell him so.

"And what, pray tell, are you seeking in a place like this, Your Highness?" He steps closer, pulling your bodies closer together, concern and suspicion melding in his gruff voice. His presence is an unspoken reminder of his sworn duty to protect you.

You hastily speak of visions, an overwhelming feeling in you, that the gods are calling you and you must answer.

"I know not what visions haunt your thoughts, but I beg of you — do not let them lead you into peril." His grip tightens almost imperceptibly, a silent plea as he softly speaks your given name. "You are the jewel of this kingdom. Too precious to be cast into such depths."

The use of your name is a reminder of the intimate bond you two share, forged in secret moments stolen from the watchful eye of the kingdom. It's a bond that transcends mere duty and protection.

Reluctantly, you both concede slightly, softened by his words and your pleading eyes. You allow his presence and he allows you to continue. But you push for John to distance himself as he’s drawing more and more unwanted attention. The peddlers are already whispering…

It isn’t long until to you find what’s you’re searching for, what’s summoning you.

An amulet. Ancient and weathered. Its siren song unconsciously calls you to reach out and touch. But as you do, your hand is slapped away by the peddler. Causing John to tense and his hand to reach for his sword but he still keeps his distance as promised, not stepping in unless you call for it.

Your lips recite words in a tongue long dead. A phrase you’ve never heard before leaves you without your permission. The merchant simply smiles and asks for payment, to which you give. The amulet is passed to you, its new owner.

With the trinket now in your possession, you know what happens next. Ambush. You rush to John’s side, not stopping to explain more than, “We’re leaving. Now.”

"Stay close," John growls without missing a beat, falling into step beside you. It's not a request, but a command. He prays to the gods, silent and fervent, for guidance and protection. His strides are long and purposeful, his body a shield blocking you from any pursuers. "Anytime you're ready to tell me what this is about, I'm listening.

Little does he know, that in order to save his life from this ambush, you must sully your own hands. All over an old necklace and some silly visions you’ve yet to understand.

Oh gods, what have you gotten yourself into?

[ryansosilly]

I just had to check to see if you were chill like that!!1! Some people only do scrawny petite bottom reader 😒

anyways may I request some headcanons with a big buff male reader, like taller than ghost so everyone thinks he’s a dom but he’s actually a subtop, please and thank you 🙏 feel free to do any characters you’d like but I’d really appreciate if you included Makarov or Keegan :3

sincerely, 🩻 anon

i am such a sucker for big buff subtops you guys don't even know how deep that shi goes in my brain. Even have a whole ass big buff cod oc that I'm itching to draw more about 😞 thank you so much 🩻 anon for this blessing of a request!

I've decided to do headcanons for those characters, in order:

All of Task force (Price, Gaz, Ghost, Roach and Soap)

The 'Famous Kortac' chars (Krueger, König, Nikto and Horangi)

The ' questionable but if drunk enough I'd let em hit it' (Makarov, Graves, Alejandro and bonus of Keegan)

If you want more characters than that, you outta specify but trust me I am VERY much into writing much longer headcanons and with a lot more characters. So the more the merrier! I'm going to part them by sections in the following order above!

I tried to make it make sense for both if you're a part of the team AND if you're just a civilian so you don't feel forced into anything. No specifics used for the reader other than the fact they're big buff and a submissive top just as the anon requested! You can look like anything, here, I'll NEVER use such descriptors!! This is for EVERYONE regardless of race, weight, eye colour, age (as long as 18+) and allat bullshit.

Task Force

Captain John Price

Hasn't had any experience before with another man. I'm DEFINITELY certain he has fucking grinder on that ancient Nokia of his. He definitely called himself a bear a couple times as a joke but never went on a date or tried anything. So for his first experience with a guy to be a big buff man? Yeah good luck buddy. Poor Man was struggling for a while, it took a lot of trial and error if you know what I mean for him to find out what actually worked and what he liked.

Low-key bruh? He was kinda intimidated at first. A bit ashamed and even his pretty damn secure masculinity took a hit he barely recovered from. Luckily, just being picked up and craddled like a god damn no weight damsel in distress had him already ready to go back with no thoughts of shame and regret.

What DEFINITELY helped was how he basically saw you like a big puppy wolf without the 'bad' part. Yes, you were an outstanding soldier (if you are in the military) that was for sure but when he told you to sit, you sat your ass DOWN!!! the obedience you gave him with just enough 'dom' in you to fuck him good enough to leave him dizzy after that was exactly what he needed in his life

Easy to say that ever since you two started dating, he has had a de-stress 'funtime' very often that everyone noticed.

He isn't too kinky of a guy tbh. But......sommeetimmeesss maaybee he'd be willing to pull a collar with his name on you. Not full on petplay or anything. He just liked seeing it above him, maybe with a complimentary leash to pull on if you went too hard for his liking.

He has an above average libido, which only applies to his relationship with you. It slowed down and calmed with time but for the first time and the next much after, he was a BEAST (and had the hair to back it up)

He joked that you brought the size of the big bad wolf and he brought the 'bad and hair' to the table so you were basically complete.

Ghost was the grandma and Soap and Gaz were both the red riding hood. (They argued about it)

His FAVOURITE part isn't just you being on the more submissive part tho. It's actually the comfortable hugs you provide. And the fact you let him give you just as much comfort. It felt very peaceful, he respected the equality you had between each other that despite the differences, you were definitely equals. (Not so much when he is in commando mode on the battlefield but that is NO foreplay little games)

If I were to be completely honest, he ain't that much into doing it in public like I've seen him being written. He wouldn't do it on his desk that's for sure. And if you suggested that? He'll slap the living shit out of you and bring your tallass to your KNEES to apologise. Then maybe he'll feel bad and PERCHANCE let you hit it as long as there's no paperwork there.

What he will do? Maybe would give you some support from under the desk but of course. It's only okay if your desk. If not? Then you gotta be down on your knees. He isn't much of a giver but definitely a taker.

He has a shirt called "old men yaoi" that he was given by Soap. Did you ever explain to him what that means and why he shouldn't wear it when In meetings?..

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Oh Gaz was a mess. He hasn't even THOUGHT about dating a man before..i mean yeah sure maybe he did THINK of looking up some gay porn from time to time but it couldn't possibly mean anything, right? Yeah he was a boykisser full and through. Then he was wondering why his relationship with women rarely worked out. He was more a girl's girl than most girls were.

And that confusion lead him into your arms. And goodness me. That was a ride for sure! Haha get it? Ride. He rode you like a fucking bull when he got used to the feelings. He was an UNSTOPPABLE force once he got comfortable.

I don't really think he was as insecure outwardly, he didn't feel ashamed to be out with you because he loved you very very much so and he didnt see shame in that. Only a little inside doubts he dared not share. Maybe a tiny bit of internalised homophobia.

For a while, he was growing a lot more doubtful that he tried to fit the stereoptupical 'feminine' role before you two had even started having sex. You were masc so he was supposed to be fem even if he didn't feel like it, yeah? That did not work out. A lot of victims (people eating burnt food) and sacrifices ( burnt kitchen and kitchen appliances) fell tragically due to those attempts..

You had to sit him down and explain to him everything. Once that little misunderstanding was out of the way and mostly his mind, the real fun for him began. Due to how big you were, he decided it was no longer necessary for him to do most of the stupid chores around, so, he just told you around with such nice sweet words like 'Honey, can you please carry the trash out for me?'

The trash was not even half his size and even in your hands but he just didn't feel like it and really liked seeing your muscles flex when you picked something up.

Sometimes he even purposely made things a bit HARDER for you to pick up. Like putting extra weights on your pole when you were lifting at the gym when you weren't looking, like sometimes even attempting to do that couple thing of 'sitting on your back' while you were doing pushups.

Lord have mercy on his soul when you actually managed to do a decent set of pushups with him on your back??? Yeah you were set for LIFE.

He was more of a switch when it came to bring dominant or submissive. He didn't mind anything as long as it was with you. He did get a kick out of being the Dom so he did lean on it most of the time. He felt a little confused how a person who fucks him senselessly can be so submissive but let me tell you. He QUICKLY got the hand of it and used it well

He wasn't too freaky at the start either. In fact, he barely had any libido for a while, taking a bit of time to accept everything. Once he accepted he, he fell off the deep end. He decided to do the fatal mistake of looking up stuff about gay sex to make himself understand everything better and to possibly even impress you during your first time together. And uh..oh.. um. He fell right down the trap of bsdm. There was no going back. Some still did disgust him. Like for example, there was no fucking petplay, not even a tiny element of it. You were on an equal footing. What there was a lot of? Handcuffs, bondage, scratching and biting. Yeah all of that was in. He still mostly leaned on wanting to try different positions like being fucked while being held up. He had done it before with a girl but for him to experience the 'girl' role? Was an eye opening experience..might as well call it a spiritual detour for him.

Your height and size did attract a lot more people than he would like it to. He finally understood why those girls acted like that in his past. Yeah you were definitely holding his hand whenever you went out. Bitches need to back the fuck OFF. He wasn't possessive to an unhealthy amount tho. Maybe only a little anxious and jealous but definitely keeping it real, he was an overall healthy individual to be in a relationship with once all of that doubt when away. He was in for the long run and you better be.

But if you fucking say something like "chocolate vanilla swirl" he will punch your teeth out.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

(I'm going specifically w Og Ghost for this one but due to how little we know about current reboot Ghost we might as well group them. There WILL be heavier topics discussed here in only this section due to how complex Ghost is. I am not going to water him down or romanticise his situation.)

⚠️Some trigger warnings: mentions of rape, sexual assault and his fear of intimacy. Basically keep in mind his fucking backstory when you read this section. If you do not think this will be suitable, I'll put a divider from when the possibly triggering part starts so you can skip it.

Ghost was bewildered. No fucking way. Absolutely not. There is NOTHING going up his.. ahem. Maybe. On Sundays cuz it's not gay obviously. He was DOWN BAD. he has gone through so many fucking issues, that he was afraid of loving anything and anyone and he falsely fell down into the rabbit hole of 'nobody is coming to save you, get up.' it got him through everything.

But finally somebody came and actually helped him. And instead of it being the stereotypical princess that he had saved during previous missions.. it was an absolute unite of a man picking him up, swinging him over his fucking shoulder and RUNNING faster than how Ghost ran when not injured or carrying a grown ass man. Maybe that was when he fell in love. But he didn't have a clue what was coming for him.

Oh just you wait until he finally let you in. It was no easy job. He even put you through ACTUAL IN REAL LIFE TESTS. INCLUDING papers and physical. Yeah you can't jump as high as a horse to make it through the field? Wrap it up. (He'll let you try again. It didn't even NEED to be if you were in the military like him. Even as a civilian, he'll treat you like a soldier. Sorry not sorry.)

he pushed you to your absolute limits. Guaranteeing that you'll stay just as big.and ho ho. He LOVED it. Seeing THE Ghost Riley entering a room already made everyone tense. Now? There was an entire Godzilla behind him entering with, acting like his fucking bodyguard without even lifting a finger.

in a way also..he was just.. a bit envious. You were strong, big and intimidating. Everything he wanted to be and everything he WORKED to be. His peace of mind came from the fact you were very submissive. The one thing he wasn't. He worked on himself throughout the relationship to change his beliefs. Instead of being envious, he accepted you as an equal, someone he admired but wasn't envious of.

Back to big scary bouyfriend though

i doubt anyone would be dumb enough to even speak back to seeing an intimidating man, an even bigger and scarrier man behind him with a big German Sheppard that looks very ready to attack any second. (I love Riley)

Riley approves of you as his boyfriend.

If you're in the army: He'll definitely take you around on the meetings with him. The possibility of someone not being intimidated by him alone are low and the chances after torture are even lower to zero. But with you behind him? Just lurking? Not even having to do the heavy lifting unless asked to by him? Yeah. Unstoppable.

For a while it almost made him sick with power. Or that's what he thought the feeling was. The feeling actually was just him falling in love deeper. It stopped behind casual when he started calling you up shamelessly at night to come over.

If you're not in the army? He wasn't even a little worried later on in your relationship. At the start? Yes, he still DEMANDED to accompany you but it took you beating up one person for him to be convinced that you can go alone so he can be tightly snoozing at 6pm on a free day after his tea. (He still tracked your location occasionally. He made sure to ask for permission, of course. If you said no, he'll not do it and instead accompany you more. No matter how strong you were, he will never truly not be afraid of losing you. He is NOT like those weirdos make him up to be.)

He really liked buying you specifically clothes. Maybe a little bit of a gooner one might say but he would love it if you were to casually pull up with a compression shirt on. Only you. Nobody else. If anything, everyone else wearing it outside of duty got a disgusted look from him. You were the only eyecandy he would feast his eyes on.

As a first time, he probably had you sit down with a folder of gay porn, showing you every video of what he wanted done. A bit weird of a bloke he was but alright. He did his research. He did not feel even a Little shame for showing you everything. He WILL get a laser pointer or a damn teacher ruler to point at the screen to make sure you're paying attention. That was no joke, stop laughing!!! Immediately!!! ( He is not very socially aware)

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS APPLY FROM ⚠️

vvv⚠️HERE⚠️vvv

It took a little bit for him to change it in his mind that it was not casual to have sex. And it was even less casual for you to STAY after you were done 'using him up' (as he'd

put it). To stay and dry his tears, the comfortable and warm aftercare. For the first time's, he ended up crying in the middle of the act. He didn't feel as safe for a very long time and the crying never did stop. It simply changed meanings. From the fear to relief and safety, thankfullness. You were softer, you listened to him even if you were bigger than his previous male assaulters.

You heard him, you allowed him the control he desperately needed. You made him feel safe and even if he struggled for a really really long time saying no if you were to ask him to have sex out of pure fear, he managed to get himself to speak up when he truly wasn't feeling up to it.

It meant the entire world to him that you actually read his body language, how uncomfortable he was at times, asked him if he was okay and etc. He felt truly seen, not exposed.

I think he switches from being very hypersexual, wanting you whenever you were both free to not wanting anything to do with sex for weeks to no end. You being understanding to his situation made him feel better and his moods will stabilise with time to a more consistent pattern.

TRIGGER WARNINGS NO LONGER NEEDED FROM HERE DOWN!!

He is DEFINITELY not as he is commonly written. He will NOOOOT have sex on the battlefield no matter what you asked and how much you begged. The battlefield is serious and he won't even entertain flirting if the situation is especially serious. Doesn't mean that HE won't flirt with YOU but you're not allowed to! Only he gets a pass. Same with joking. It's only okay if he does it and you better respect it or he'll give you a nasty look!!

His head is too busy to even think about kinks at times but what he is never too busy to not hate is quickies. Not sure why. He just doesn't seem like the guy.

He is a confusing guy. Sometimes he is into something then the next day he isn't. The best way to find out is usually to ask but that doesn't even go well all the time.

Yeah your absolutely massive size plays a part in what he is into all the time tho. Uncertain why but I think he is into the pretty normal positions like him being on his back and you above him humping like a feral dog just as he told you to. Bonus if you hold his hands, intertwined fingers and all. Sometimes when at home, not deployed, he likes it on the weirdest places. The complete opposite of his work self. On the table? Hell yeah! You might as well just lift him up, put him on the table and fuck him right there and then. The bathroom sink? A little nasty but won't say no if there's a mirror. He DEFINITELY likes reminding you how you look, embarrassing you, even SOMETIMES mocking you if you told him that was okay earlier.

"look at yourself, I must feel so good, huh? Keep going then."

sometimes he is more entertained by watching you than the sex itself

Oh but the sex itself is NOT to ignore tho, sometimes he is left so shaky legs from pushing both yours and HIS limits that he can barely walk. Yet.. still tries to trot out, marching like a soldier with awkwardly high raise of his sore knees and heavy steps. He looks like a duck or a toddler learning to walk. You should help him!

Not vanilla, he does dip his toes into some freaky things from time to time. He uses your height and muscles against you a LOOOT. Even if you aren't a soldier, he expects you to act like one. You WILL respect him as an lieutenant in bed.

Specifics of what he is into? He just kind of likes mimicking you. Whatever he notices you're into, suddenly he'll act like he has been into it for years. Does draw the lines at toilet play and the really down bad degenerate things. Surprisingly? He also does not like choking that much. He does it, but really rarely and it's not even breath play, it's just him holding your neck to pull you down. And don't even THINK about reach for his neck or your fingers will be broken there and then.

Scratching and biting are ON the table.

Very hesitant about bringing weapons in bed tho. He knows you're a big strong guy just like him but it feels like mixing his work with his love life. You've to be very insistent and with very specific things to convince him to use something dangerous. Guns are allowed as long as they aren't loaded. Knives only need to be dull and handcuffs are mostly fine as long as they're padded up, not to hurt your wrists. They are NOT getting near his wrists though...

Maybe they are...

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

(I'll try to make this as long as possible despite us knowing like..none about him. Btw yeah fuck y'all he is definitely going to have selective mutism fuck y'all saying it's unrealistic. It's unrealistic for NICKY MINAJ AND SNOOP DOGG TO BE IN THE ARMY TOO BUT THERE THEY ARE NEXT TO THE PINK FLUFFY KÖNIG AND GODZILLA!!!)

Roachy is a tough one. I don't think he has dipped his toes in gay sex yet. You outta teach him about it. Maybe maybe. He like accidentally got recommended gay porn once or twice but that's about it. He didn't click it. He was not that interested.

Oh goodness but once he got a taste of that, there was no going back. It was the first and last he had. He is an adult male so obviously he did probably have sex like..once or maybe twice if very lucky and you squint your eyes and close one of them. Just he never really got to be with a guy ..and especially not a guy like you.

I think he'd be like the "hey mamas whatcha doi- wait......." By reflex then be silenced by himself until he figures out what's the male equivalent of that. Like hey papas? Hell no that sounds weird? Daddy? Yeah the daddy issues aren't that bad yet.

He is more a of a thinker than a doer and he appreciates you doing him nevertheless. He himself is quite tall, basically same height as Ghost. Roughly the same age (26) as well. So, just like for everyone else, it was new territory for him to be spoiled and treated like he treated others

What he most loved is that he didn't have to forcefully unmuted himself when with you. It either happened naturally or you were so intimidating that nobody dares to come talk to him no matter what it was about so you two can stay in silence together.

Just like I hc Roach was the soft spot for Ghost, you were his soft spot. Or more like he was your soft spot so you just did everything. There is a lot of apologising that happens

Not to mention how SHOCKED he was when he first saw you being all submissive and sweet, the complete opposite of what you looked like. He was in for a tough ride, fully prepared himself mentally that he'll need to put those sleeves back and get READY to break those walls of yours to finally get to the sweet cute you that he believes is in everyone.

Well it took like.. one cup of tea and a couple nice words and that's it, walls were down and you ended up making out? Somehow? Don't even ask me. Things just happen and he lets them happen.

He isn't that much more talkative when with you. In fact, he doesn't even need a reason to speak. You were just two dudes hanging out in silence, doing whatever came to mind while letting you do the talking. It was..for the best.

Even if you didn't have the best way with words, trust me it will be better than if Roach was in control of the situations

If you guys see him as autistic I get that so I'm gonna contribute to that.

His special interest is everything related to the military. And especially weapons and ranking. He overjoyed when he became a sergeant. And you should be too. The only times he opens his fucking mouth to is to yap about weaponry. And oh no they should not have given him permission for that.

Big scary boyfriend is basically a pass to everything in his mind. Not even in a childish way. It's a threat. You are scary because you got those two guns on you at all times. Gary is scary because he got GUNS and he knows how to use them. And use them very WELL.

oh yeah? You wanna force me to do something I don't wanna do? Go tell that to my boyfriend.

he climbs you like a fucking tree probably

As for sex life? That don't matter to him. He isn't that much of dom or even a sub. BUT if you asked him to do something? He takes it like a fucking challenge. He WILL do it and surprise you with how well he does it.

He REALLY likes to praise you. Praises you for just existing as well. Compliments everywhere and anytime. He is basically always thinking about you.

Just because he was thinking about you, doesn't mean that he'll only keep it in his mind. You were on his SHIRT. He had one of those "I love my boyfriend" shirts with your picture in a heart. He wore it unironically too. He does love his boyfriend so every motherfucker in the perimeter should know it.

Unfortunately price did not give him permission to wear it under his gear. Very unfortunate, really. Instead, he has a bunch of custom made stickers of you on his weapons. And a picture of you in his wallet. And your initials on his collar. And-

John "Soap" McTavish

oh me oh you. Sorry not sorry but he knows what's up.

Gary may <3333 Love <3333 his boyfriend but Soap? He LOVES his boyfriend m from first glance, his first thought was how cool and awesome you are. He wanted you to be his friend so badly that he started tweaking publicly in front of everyone, following you around like he is lost and even asking to carry your weapons/bag of groceries or anything you were carrying ever really for you to show he is just as strong.

There was NO insecurity here. Just like every single ex catholic school goer, he was the freakiest, nastiest lil mf around. My man's knew and been there done that better than the Pitbull. And I MEAN it.

Man's would probably even ask for a Footjob for all he cares. As long as it's safe, sometimes even that, he is down. Anything.

There no beating around the bush. You were his from first glance and he was yours before you even met.

Yeah maybe the Catholic guilt was so crushing that every once in a while he had a dream of just embracing you while the world around him was burning. But he won't let go. Hell wasn't a punishment bad enough for him to ever let go who he loved. And that dick was banging.

There was ever rarely any complaining about who tops and who bottoms. He is DOWN for it all. Maybe sometimes he'll ask if he can top. Maybe even beg but he was no twink or pushover. If you gave him the chance every once in a while, he'll TAKE IT.

Of course, that libido often runs short and his energy drops. Sometimes he feels bad and there is no better feeling than to just walk up to you and fall without a warning, knowing you'll catch him. He is NEVER giving a fucking warning. He will drop face first, fully trusting you catch him. You better catch or I'm catching you big boy.

He has long since lost his connection to his parents and many siblings so the conversation about meeting them a bit bad but don't worry about it. It wouldn't have gone good anyway. He was the only McTavish you wanted to know. And the only one you should know anyway.

He was very much attached to the hip with you. Far more possessive than Simon but somehow even more secure than Gaz. Don't even ask how. He just is.

Anytime you were to go out when he was not deployed, you are DEFINITELY standing behind him. Anyone thinking that big delicious man Soap was single was sure to regret it. Women and men, everyone goes down upon his request.

"No lass, I'm not single but you can ask my boyfriend if you want. [REDACTED]!"

just the moment they see you walking in, having to lean down to not bust your head into the frame of the door and any guy or girl that was into John, is GONE

Positions? Yeah all of them. For his birthday you can buy him a book of every sex position and he'll even put it in the calendar so you don't forget

Why is he so kinky? Not because he particularly enjoys it. He just wants to fill the void. And god doesn't cut it anymore. He felt aware that his time in the military was running short and wanted to do the opposite of Ghost.

You were there to balance him. The big scary man in his life that reminded him of things he forgot. He loved it.

Back on the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂mode

Telling you around what to do was NOT happening. Yes, he MAY nudge you at best but he LOVES leaving you clueless, lost. Not knowing what to do with yourself when you're senselessly fucking him makes him even more turned on. What makes him the most turned on? When you just do whatever comes to mind. Like a lost animal. And oh the coldness in your eyes disappearing and being replaced by that hot botherness. He was so down bad for you.

In everyday life? You better not be bringing up your height against him or he is going to glare at you and tell you to drop it. Either that or laugh with. 60/40 with odds in an unknown direction. Good luck figuring it out.

Already planning marriage

Unlike Ghost, he is all for quickies. Here and there, now and then.

He really likes being picked up and kissed. He feels it's funny rather than just genuinely enjoying it in a way.

ALSO Has an I love my boyfriend shirt but a little more shame than Roach and only wears it ironically sometimes, like when going to bed or casual days.

Never before has he gotten to experience what it's like to steal someone's else's clothes. Other people, men and women HAVE taken his clothes in previous relationships but never did he know what it feels like to be the one to do it. Mostly because he hadn't dated anyone even close to his size before.

His type in women was all women and in men was all men but simply, there's not that many tall men. Of course twinks and femboys are ALWAYS ready for Soap and he was..only occasionally ready for them. If things got too dry.

Now? No dryness no more. LEAKING

___________________________________________

Kortac

(the rest will be shorter due to the lack of knowledge on the characters)

Krüger

Trigger warnings AGAIN for really fucked up things for Krüger. He is a lil freak in the worst ways possible. Gore, porngore, self harm and everything bad is going on here but I'll still give a section of smut hcs for no triggering topics. They'll again be marked accordingly.

Oh LAWD. Unlike ALL of the other ones, Krüger didn't even think TWICE. He was overjoyed if anything.

In his eyes, you were exactly like him but improved, bigger better stronger one might say.

He was THE most into it. Out of everyone? You two were the most perfect match.

You were used often and turned into a tool flawlessly, with no issue whatsoever. You obeyed like a fucking dog and were horrifying enough to keep everyone in check even when not there.

Your height and strength was what he was attracted to first, not really anything else unfortunately. At least at the beginning, of course.

Sometimes he actually speaks to you the way you'd speak to a police dog.

"Search there"

"Kill!"

He was even more delighted when you first had sex. Finding out you were so.. submissive and obedient was perfect. Maybe you being a top bothered him for a while, he was in denial but once he got over that the first time, he never changed his mind again. He was GLADLY taking your dick anytime as long as he was the only one in control. Every single sense or mean of control was stripped out, held above your head (haha he can't do that often)

He was especially into forcing you to just lay down at take him on for as long as you physically could. You ARE going to take it. He was merciful enough to give you a safe word, of course. Despite sometimes losing himself to absolute manic, he understands consent. OBVIOUSLY.

He is very manipulative, really creative in ways to bring the 'best' out of you. Pushing you far beyond your limits then barely apologising, just to do it again and again.

⚠️⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS APPLY FROM⚠️⚠️

⚠️⚠️HERE⚠️⚠️

He was really into asking you to break him. He WANTED, NEEDED for you to cut him up to pieces. Use your big fucking muscles and shatter his body.

Or he will.

Once he found out you were so submissive but still a top, he decided to let it slide, leaving the almost forced gorey sex behind for a while until he can figure out a way to go back to it.

No matter how long time has passed, he still held knives and sharp objects with him in bed, or anywhere on his person he can possibly hide. Once he felt you weren't listening enough, he pulls them out and threatens you to keep going.

Bonus point if that turns you on. Cuz it sure as hell turns him on.

If it doesn't turn you on, you need to actually speak back. Using your intimidating self on him WORKS. Not because he is afraid but because he is into it. He thinks it's really hot.

Likes to beg you into punching him or getting violent when in bed. Man is just a sadomaso

Sometimes he is a lil bit of a..sexist in a way? Treating you like a girl, calling you princess to mock you despite being CLEARLY the perfect picture 'Manly man'. Even putting you in a dress once in a while.

⚠️⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS END HERE!⚠️⚠️

more healthy relationship starts

If you actually want a healthy relationship with him, you need to put a lot more work. And unlike any other person, you actually have the means to succeed.

Your big figure and intimidation tactics work very well. As long as you can use them, he listens.

He even OBEYS sometimes. The closer you get to understanding him, the more he leaned in on hurting himself instead of you. And once you get to that? He will actually put effort into stopping it all together.

Would probably take years for him to soften but you do get like a little free trial of soft Krüger when he is very tired and sleepy in your arms.

Oh how much he loves cuddling but never admits it..

Just hug him, make him understand and love him and he'll gladly do the rest of the work.

Once he actually softened up, he became a more.. upstanding citizen in a way. More domestic. In fact, you just domesticate him it seems.

just because he got domesticated tho it does NOT mean he'll be less of a 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴.. Sex is anything but boring with that man. It simply becomes more loving and occasionally more gentle.

Fun little extra headcanon? He finds hand holding lewd but not making out or kissing in public.

König

well that's a lil difficult to tell. I think he would genuinely be confused for a while. I do NOT hc him as 6'10 or whatever the fanon König is but he is still decently tall in my mind. Like a 6'7 at best. so, finding someone taller than him AND somehow bagging them?? Like how'd he do that???

He was a bit more chill once he got used to it that anyone else felt small. Since when deployed, he was surrounded by mostly tall people and when he was not deployed and home with you, he was just surrounded by you and you only.

The world felt weird when he went out with you. Two tall men out together. He HATED the outward attention so as much as he could, he'd avoid getting out. Not because of shame, of course.

Sometimes he even used it as a flex. The scary man and the scarier man. Just like Krüger, you were like an improved version of him. Bigger and scarrier. He liked that a lot.

What came as a real surprise was that you were so submissive. He himself was pretty dominant and called himself a top. (Has never been with a guy before though. Maybe the one time he confused a femboy for a girl technically counts but he does not count it if you were to ask.)

Took a lot of him to actually accept a proposal to date..he tried to keep it 'casual' for a long while even if it was anything but Casual.

Can't say that seeing you shirtless didn't turn him on though. Pent up emotions and sexual tension from having joined the army at 17 has the man tweaking the first time he felt turned on by someone like you

You BETTER be treating him nice when you do get to have sex.

Positions don't matter but he personally dislikes eye contact. Of course, what he REALLY likes though..

Surprisingly.. roleplay. He likes playing stupid roles with you in bed. It's a bit childish and he'd never admit it but he always asks for it when you are both free for a longer time. Usually it's just short and straightforward to the point, not much talking other than him telling you what to do, what not to touch and etc.

When it came to roleplaying? He is into some weird stuff. Like putting you into a cow pattern lingerie to embarrass you while he can be 'the cowboy'. (He went on rants about why Is it called a cowboy if he is riding a horse and not a cow? He REFUSES to have it with a horse.)

He is also really into recording it. Especially mixed in with the roleplay.

One time he even asked you to pretend to be a porn star, record it and everything. He wrote a SCRIPT too. Who knows WHEN he wrote that. He just pulled up after deployment to you with it so it must be sometime during his deployment.

one time you were a ghost buster and he was a sexy Ghost. He made a lot of bad jokes that he thought were the funniest thing ever in English. He did not quite understand it but you did find out that he likes the ghost busters movies!

He finds kissing you very nice. Grabbing you by the shoulders and just MWAAAAAHH type shit yk? Especially if it's a more passionate kiss, against a wall or something.

It is a MUST for now both of you to share the same diet and same work out routine. It..took a bit for him to admit he cannot keep up with yours and finally have to unmatch it. Very unfortunate.

He doesn't have any favourite positions, if you asked him he just wouldn't answer or say he doesnt know.

But he does know. It's against a mirror. Or god forbid a fucking window that's just another clean and reflective enough. It makes him go insane whenever you catch him there.

Shares clothing 100%. If you're not in the military, he'd even leave his mask over at your place for you to fuck and pretend it's him, ESPECIALLY if you send him videos WITH sound on. If you dare send a silent one he'll send you a lot of angry dad emojis. Do not test him!!!

he also has a favourite angle that he likes the videos.to be taken from because he sees your muscles flex just right.

Overall really enjoys it. You are forced to work out together, share tall man struggles. Does not care if he is gay or anything, no angst on this one boys.

Nikto

I fuckin love Nikto I'm foaming at the mouth as I write this

He hated it. Like a lot. He would gladly break your fucking legs JUST so you can be not as tall.

It pissed him off, turned him on. Same thing

He is even less likely to let ANYTHING go up his ass than Ghost. It took a lot of time after you started dating for him to even let you undress him.

It started with him founding how submissive you were and exploiting it to HELL!

That was your only saving point. The first thing of him you got to see first was his fucking dick.

Open wide 🤤

NOT allowed to see his face under the mask but you can DEFINITELY see that his eyes were constantly locked on your muscles. He MAY or may not purposely change his workout routine just to match yours.

No reason at all just..felt out dated so he has to change it! Definitely not the tank top you're wearing.

When on autopilot, Nikto was following around you without meaning at all. He himself was usually the most intimidating man around Kortac just due to his pure insanity. Now he had competition. Yeah he saw it as fucking competition.

Nearly a forced one sided rivals AND lovers.

Your intimidation does not work :[

your height only kind of just pisses him off SK you need to go the extra mile with fucking him once he permits it.

Favourite position??? Nikto is somewhat of a porn addict so...he likes weird stuff.

He fucking tried pretending to be stuck in the washing machine. I hope you guys understand just how crazy that is. Would be even crazier if you agreed and DID fuck him while in that.

He DOES like shower sex, especially if the water is cold. He forces you to be the one under the cold water them degrading you if you can't keep it up while fucking him.

You that's not easy so good luck bro. No amounts of muscle can save you from that

Horangi

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

The Extras section

Vladimir Makarov

Makarov is a confusing lad to write about icl cuz I think he would either not care or take another one day to put you in your fucking place as a bootkisser then continue on about his day

You being taller than him ain't no surprise, a lot of men are taller than him. What IS a surprise though? That people around seemed to fear you more than they feared him. He wasn't jealous, he was impressed.

He decided to 'invest' some money into you, keep you under watch. In his head, you're now a high value employee- partner.

Wait what. Where did..we lose the plot???

Why are in his bed?

Oh well might as well. He likes it. He is NOT above no little hook ups or getting really inappropriate during work as long as it was not a very serious situation. It didn't matter as long as his big scary boyfriend is behind him

He almost went on a power trip, jumping and screaming from joy inside his mind when you agreed to dare him

He gave you fucking heels. Weird that he knew your size but he did. You have to wear the heels. Gender means nothing to him.put the fucking heels on and be even taller so he can drool.

He likes big boobs on his men since he himself looks like..that. (no hate, only a lil)

His favourite hobby is teaching you how be a really horrible person, even more self defense and dragging you around. Unfortunately, civilian or not, you ARE dragged into his schemes.

You are also dragged in alleys, covered in blood of your enemies for a quickie. Ooopsie!

He thinks the dynamic is cute

He considers himself to be the scarier one though, would be insult if you even tried to imply that he wasn't the most badass man ever

Weird enough I think he really likes taking pictures of you.but not in the cute way that Gary/Roach does. But in a creepy stalker way

If you asked him to do something that you can 100% do alone, he would mock you, call you weak and etc.

If it's something that you actually say you're struggling with like a jar of pickles or sum that you've loosened just enough for him to open easily THEN ask him for help, he'll acknowledge it was an attempt but till take it and pretend like he didn't know what you did.

He appreciates everything you do for him but NEVER says anything

Outside of work he is not very sneaky about admiring your amazing built. He likes it and makes it clear with his eyes but not his mouth. You are NOT hearing even a single compliment from him. MAYBE a 'good job' like once a week but that's about it.

Sex? Yes.

Occasionally is a bit too paranoid about being seen by his comrades because of a bit of not even internalised but straight up verbalised homophobia but as long as he has enough fucking guns it does not matter

Despite your height and being built like a tank, you do not get privileges to go anywhere alone without a bullet proof vest. He would usually send a bodyguard if you were anyone else but no bodyguard does the job you're on your own for that. It's either him or a gun.

Really likes risky places and pretty crazy or even straight up dangerous kinks. It is like an overload of euphoria and pleasure. The thrill? You fucking him in this place? The FACES you're making? How pathetic you are? Absolutely perfect. Give him that as much as your body can handle.

A big guys gets big fucking expectations and you NEED to keep up.

Phillip Graves

Shameless. ABSOLUTELY shameless. If he likes you, you WILL know off the bat.

"I don't care how many people die, GO GET HIM!!!"

You will start dating him the quickest out of every other mf on this list

Give him a week MAX!

Your big ass is HIS and his only, he is already ordering a bigger bed in his room for just you to fit in while drooling like a disgusting pervert.

He is very much a disgusting pervert.

Whenever he catches you out and about, he pulls out a gun then runs at you. He WILL jump in your arms, if you don't catch him, he'll shoot you in the head. If you do catch him, he won't.

So far, you have caught him every time and you're still not sure if he is joking or not about the whole shooting in the head thing..

Big muscles means he gets use you as a threat. Saying that if someone doesn't do as he says, he'll use them to feed you

And damn looking at you? I'd believe it too.

Not the HEALTHIEST mf to be in a relationship with. It's hardly a relationship, he even pays you occasionally for just attending places with him. Buys your clothes extra fitted and perfect for you. (Sometimes he buys a shirt or pants a bit too small on purpose and asks you to try them. He just likes seeing it so tightly fitted against you that it looks like it'll rip off like Hugh Jackman as Wolverines shirt. Again, he IS SHAMELESS.)

There is rarely a time when you aren't tied up in bed. Only if you complain about the rope or handcuffs hurting too much, only then will he be willing enough to let them go. If he fucking has to, he WILL get some shadows in the room to hold your arms behind your back so you better not test him

Nobody felt safe around him before and now they feel even less safe when there's a fucking bull of a man right behind him at all times. You were REALLY quickly promoted to his "left hand"

"No, honey, you don't get it. It's left hand, not right hand, because you're useless most of the time unless I'm jerking off."

You were 80% sure he was joking. His joke line delivery sucks though so you can't be sure.

VERY kinky, most into bondage but into less severe things than Krügers freaky ass. He would still kill you though.

A couple of times he showed his actual care though. After all, he still has a heart! Somewhere..in there? I assume?

not much to say. Other than he might occasionally Ask you to flex your muscles for him so he can take a picture of his face in between them and send it in the Shadow company WORK groupchat

NOBODY LIKES IT WHEN HE DOES THAT, PHILLIP PLEASE FUCKING STOP

DEFINITELY into recording porn. In fact, he decided it would be such a good idea to re-record a training video for shadows but make it into almost a fucking porno due to how erotic it was with the two of you as the 'Main Actors'

Shadows don't watch such a video. He just straight up lied to you about it because he wanted to do it.

Buys a LOT of expensive things for you, especially ones to embarrass you with like underwear with his face on it with hearts all around. God forbid anyone in the changing room asks about it.

How he reacts to you being submissive? He loves it! Loves to abuse it as well! The big scary scary you is horny, overstimulated and whining under his foot, just waiting for him? He likes having a picture of both of those "faces". The scary one in your id that everyone views you as and the one (for private use only) of your desperate tear stained face after he was done abusing your dick for HOURS.

Unfortunately though, the times he got to go really DOWN for the sex were often quite rare. He was a busy man. At most you can get a Handjob under a work desk from him then once done, he'll take you to the bathroom and force you to lick it off his hand. He is just weird like that.

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro was in denial for the longest. Even to now, he still doesn't even know if you're dating or if it's just casual.

It's been years..

Made a lot of "is it gay if-" jokes that literally nobody laughed at. They're just simply not funny.

He was very sceptical of the way he and YOU felt for a LOOONNGG time. Even once he accepted you love him and that he loves you, he was always in denial, just patting your back as if you were buddies.

But it was NOT casual how much he got bothered by women and even other men staring at you at the gym or wherever you're training at. Be it his gym or a public one, he WILL have you wearing a long sleeved shirt. Only if he is alone with you then you can take it off. He can swallow his distain for the inability to see the way you're so scrumptiously build if it means NOBODY ELSE CAN TOO!!!

Once alone? He is like the token henchman boy in every teen movie that is constantly hyping up the main bully guy in a weirdly gay way. Like those two 'straight guys' in everyone's classes. There is NO separation

He is SO Into the big buff ones, extra points if you even have a lot of hair on your body and he is ready to go on sight. He isn't at all afraid NORMALLY when alone with you because frankly? Sometimes he acts pretty gay with his other homies..hell occasionally even Soap is a victim to having his biceps grabbed then being given unsolicited advice on his to gain more.

Let me tell you, you are an eye candy to him. A confusing eye candy but an eye candy nevertheless.

As for in bed? Like a dream come true! He truly (makes himself) believe that as long as he is the dominant one, then it's not gay! Of course not..

"Hermano, what do you mean the 'socks' rule is a joke? Are you calling me fuckin gay?"

He is smart, smarter than that..he is even mostly joking but makes it REALLY convincing that sometimes people genuinely think he is unaware of the fact that having sex with another male that is so absolutely huge, enough to have him get the next two days off, is obviously gay.

He was unfortunately very.. forgetful the first time having sex. Thinking he can definitely handle it 'raw' because that's what it's like usually for women and he never had a reason to learn about male weak spots unless it's to kill said male.

So, let me tell you.. with your absolutely massive size in all means, being a top and him relentlessly ordering you to "Show him what you've got!" And to "not go easy on him!" Mixed together lead to a 'perfect' mixture of " a trip to ER"

He was too ashamed to go to ER immediately but did get a private doctor he can maybe kill if necessary to check him out. There was no irreversible damage but he definitely learnt that lube is important and the male body does NOT act the same as a female one! What a shocker..

He is REAALLLYY into praising. He WILL praise you at any chance given, mixed in with a lot of physical touch. Again.. especially on the muscles and abs. Man probably had erotic dreams about that too

Don't ask him though he'd just lie or not tell you to not creep you out.

Funny enough, I think he likes helping you shave or just doing "stereotypically" masculine things with you. Working out, fishing, sometimes cooking (but in a masculine way, he'll swear it's a really masculine thing.), you name it!

Later on in the relationship, he really doesn't mind you being submissive at all, unlike the others, he is very neutral to it. Sees it as more of a quirk of yours than anything.

Does not like labeling himself as gay but would lie about being your husband sometimes just to see the shocked look on peoples faces.

Favourite positions? His most favourite one is against a dirty wall in a blind spot at an especially public place like an alley or around the corner of something late at night

OR in a big bath with flowers and candles, extra romantic. Those are the two options, take it or leave it. Romantic or like two filthy teens.

Tends to forget sometimes that you can't give him your all because you will literally shatter him, you NEED to remind him that he shouldn't push you until you've no choice but to fuck his brains out but Alejandro is just Alejandro. Can't help but love him.

He 100% has a picture of you in his wallet AND a tattoo of your name.

Was probably the first to say 'I love you' but in a 'bro way'

Keegan P. Russ

Another tough nut to write about. He is in NO way the Dom daddy that he is written as though that's for sure.

His first reaction to you walking through the god damn door was just side eyeing you for an uncomfortably long time. Probably you would have to be the one to talk to him first if you want to get ANYWHERE

Ignoring that whole..thing..with how you'd even meet, he will be quite happy. Not overjoyed like Krüger or confused like Gaz. He's more okay with it.

Keegan is more about who you are and what you can actually contribute than just physical strength. Being intimidating was right up his alley too so he bonded with you quite quickly.

No internal or external homophobia, bro was just chill like that tbh

As long as you prove yourself helpful and spend a LOT of time with him, he'll treat you like an equal in absolutely no time.

Sometimes he DOES overestimate you though and when he does, even if disappointed, apologises and treats you to a dinner out once he has made sure it's safe. And by out I mean out. On the fucking grass. He is NOT paying for no restaurant. AND you need to be wearing Ghillie suit just in case. Only to be safe. Maybe have a bomb or two to distract in case something happens. Wow those old sniper habits die hard, huh?

Is actually quite confused though by the switch when it comes to sex life. He expected you to be just as bold and cold as you are out and about in your everyday life/battlefield but instead he was met with basically puppy dog eyes at his feet

Can't complain, it was kinda hot, that's his initial thought process. Just as he should, he quickly adapted to the situation. Did a couple quick searches of 'how to be dominant in bed for losers with no life outside of brotherhood' and he was ready to go!

JUST to be greeted with another shocking surprise when YOU were the one to actually fuck him. Just like Horangi, he was a bit taken back by it. None of those wiki how's had said anything about how to take a cock like a champ :[

He did not take that cock like a champ.

He took it like a loser in fact.

He was very fond of more intimate or 'traditional' positions. Due to your height and strength difference.. it seemed to click in his mind exactly like this.

'oh since I'm the smaller one, I'm the one who gets fucked? Makes sense.'

He is very smart, yes, just not sexually. BUT he is no pushover. He WILL overstimulate you until you're begging him to stop fucking himself on you. You just habe to wait until he gets the hang of it and it's over.

Not too kinky, more moderate. Like the average John Doe, missionary or reverse cowgirl, anything as long as he has direct access to your whole body.

Can't even lie to himself but he is a big thighs appreciator. He likes thighs very much so. Sometimes he ALMOST turns into a whiny bitch dog when he wants to try fucking your thighs. As long as you let him, he'll have a field day with those huge thangs 🤤 shi bru me too. Someone of that size will naturally have thicker thighs. And Keegan wants them to crush his skull.

He often jokes that even the rest of the ghosts would appreciate and see that as an honourable death, to go on and finish the Ghosts 'death ritual'.

He says that he'd do an extra good job protecting his homeland in afterlife if his reason for death was your thighs or your dick.

He is a pretty big loser the rest of the time when not in bed unfortunately :[

He is NOT talking about none the entire day then gets really talkative when it's time to fuck.

Still charming, you can't POSSIBLY say no to those eyes, can you, big boy?

(for the confused ones, THIS is a Ghillie suit)

Guys did I do good I hope I didn't bore you to death but I swear I:m just a big yapper who loves to yap :[

[karlachismylife]

The Slopes of Mountain Aragats

#PriceGhostWeek

Day One: Confession/Kneel (@gomzdrawfr)

I hate this work with a passion, especially because I loved the place I'm describing here and I feel like I fucked up the chance to share this love with ghostprice and readers. But I spent too much time on it, so I'm just throwing it there, and if some other time you see me writing about mountain Aragats again, you pretend this shit never existed.

“Do you believe in God, Simon?”

A more or less expected question in a church, where sunbeams hang down from the light wells in the ceiling like see-through gauze fabric stripes, completely still in the air filled with thick smell of burning beeswax candles.

Not so expected when you’re stuck at a narrow window with a sniper rifle pointing outside, ancient walls of an Armenian church serving as basic cover for a slow-paced op. Nothing holy in this house of God, pigeon feathers left at the front steps sickly grey instead of pristine white. A few miles ahead an enormous bowl of an abandoned radio-optic telescope shined like a giant mirror on the slope of mount Aragats, blinding Ghost’s concentrated eyes with an annoying silver glint. Somewhere in the blocky constructivist building of the observatory on that same slope, among decades-old equipment and journals left open on a page with a 1990 date in the corner, were hidden remains of an abandoned space project certain Russians were suddenly interested in.

Ghost’s job was to quietly prevent them from leaving with the project in hands.

There lied a deep picturesque ravine separating God’s and scientists’ territories – a blooming rocky metaphor a little too on the nose for Simon’s liking. Clear sky above was the same for both, equally indifferent to the prayers and radio waves sent up by people desperate for answers.

He wouldn’t remember a single time his Captain didn’t answer a call through the comms.

“Unless old man in the skies sends me a cloud to get rid o’ the fuckin’ reflection, no, sir, I don’t.”

Price’s distinct chuckle bounced off dark stone walls, gruff and muffled by a cigar caught between his lips. Its smoke was one of the few things still moving in this place, barely able to push through the thick candle smell – they’d spent here so much time already that Simon had trouble remembering what did those bloody cigars smell like on their own. That meant some imaginary old man in the sky was trying to replace Price’s smell with his own in Simon’s memory, forcing him to inhale sweet, greasy air that coats the roof of your mouth with a thin layer of soft polish – more the reason to despise the guy.

There was no God waiting for Simon outside his grave when he died, only Captain Price, and as long as Ghost still roamed this Earth, it would stay that way.

“Jus’ thought he’d love ya for being able to kneel for so long.”

If the words rung in his ears like church bells, Ghost didn’t show, still a frozen picture of a perfect sniper – kneeling was the only option to fit himself at the right level to look through the narrow window. He could think of a few other things this was the right level for, but decided against it, and if the cool of the stone interior got suddenly washed away by heat raining down his scruff, that was between him and God.

There was no God here, though, only John Price.

“Let’s switch. Can’t ‘ave ya dropping yer legs like a bloody lizard tail ‘cause you sat on them for too long.”

Ghost didn’t move, acknowledging the offer with an unimpressed grunt, and blinked, fighting against his own body: as soon as Price mentioned it, his knees filled with tiny needles pressed into the squeaky joints and begged for mercy.

It was his Captain who decided whether Simon needed a break or not.

Something let out a short, sharp hiss behind him, and Ghost allowed his eyes to slide away from the target to see Price putting the butt of his cigar out in one of the water-filled trays for candles. With the myriad little flames eating away at the thin columns reflected in his sky-blue eyes, Price looked like God gazing over his land of ash-contaminated sea washing onto honey yellow shores of melted wax islands.

“Come on, boy, up. Can’t switch if yer fat arse takes up all the space.”

“Rich coming from you, sir.”

He finally moved, reluctantly, a gargoyle, foreign in the country of stone khachkar crosses, coming to live, uncoiling its creaking spine – a rod in the wide wingless back – and getting up from its aching knees. Price was already there, a firm pat on the back of his neck from a heavy hand and a smile of approval crinkling the corners of his eyes.

When Simon looked to the altar, what was left of an old Mary stared back with cracks of paint mimicking same expression around her single eye.

Price lowered himself into same position with a grunt, thick thighs bulging with the strain of his weight as he adjusted the rifle to his height – a few inches of difference that made Simon’s blood run hotter than the melted beeswax. He was hulking over his knelt Captain, shamelessly staring at that very ass, defined in the shitty lighting weaved from freshly pressed sunlight and stretched out candle flames – same lighting people are used to stare into big symmetrical eyes of holy icons.

There wasn’t enough air up here, what little oxygen left at the mountain top burnt out with those flames; Simon tilted his head back, rolling up his bally soaked with sweat gathered on his mangled upper lip, and tried inhaling with his full chest. It felt like breathing through a clogged-up cheesecloth, molecules coagulating in a hard to distribute blobs, sticking to the waxed walls of his throat. Breathing poor air made him lightheaded, uneven, hand-cut stone floor unsteady under his feet enough to force him to back away, leaning onto the altar to stay upright.

There was no God to unleash wrath on him for gripping onto the cold, rough edge of the stone table. Tuff, darkened with centuries of life Tegher Monastery led – its still light wild rock brethren scattered all around the ravine separating them and the target – tried to close onto Simon, suffocating him in a tiny crypt.

A single shot rolled down the slope, quaking ready to crumble rocks and rattling an echo. Simon’s eyes shot open – when did he even close them? – just in time to see Price lean back with a quiet, satisfied smirk. That meant target was eliminated.

Simon’s vision went black.

When the light came back, first thing he saw was a misty halo around John’s head, bright Armenian sun leaking down the light well and pooling on the brim of that bloody hat.

“Focus on me, Simon. S’alright, just breathe, aye? Gotta take ya outside, can you walk?”

 He took one breath and stood up, knees buckling immediately – if not for Price’s arms catching him under his armpits, he would’ve fallen, forced to kneel at the altar of a God he didn’t believe in.

Instead, he turned his back to the one-eyed Madonna with a faceless child on the cold stone wall and leaned into the warmth of his Captain’s thigh. His cheek pressed into Price’s garter belt, eyes and mouth wide open in a suffocated awe.

“Simon? Simon, you hear me? Bloody hell…”

A handler’s hand found its way into his hair – he didn’t even realize Price had taken off his mask as soon as he started choking on thin air – and pulled, forcing Simon to look up.

He saw blue sky in a round light well, dusted over with sunlight. And then, he saw God.

Simon didn’t hear his own voice, his dry, uneven lips moving on their own, croaking out his only prayer on the last drops of oxygen in his constricted lungs. He could only see – two piercing blue light wells, widening for a second before slowly retracting back.

God smiled, running his calloused fingers through his lamb’s blonde curls.

“I know, Simon. S’alright. I know. Been waitin’ for some time t’ hear ya say that.”

A rough thumb stroked over a scar that ran a little too close to the desperate brown eye, staring up in search of a sacrificial knife and finding nothing. Simon breathed in – and felt his mind clear up with familiar musk and tobacco smell flooding his insides, gruff notes scraping the wax off, leaving him raw, unprotected and breathing.

“Better now?” Price’s smile grew brighter at the sound of a grumbling agreement. With a grunt, he gripped Simon’s arms and lifted him up, patting him over and resting his palms on the back of his boy’s neck. Guided, Simon leaned forward to rest his forehead against John’s. “Yeah, that’s it. I’ll always be there, a’right? You just follow and listen to me. ‘M gonna take care of you.”

Something forced the sunlight away from the light well – a cloud passed over the church, moving along to kill off reflection in the telescope bowl a few minutes too late.

“Do you trust me, Simon?”

“Yes, sir.”

[godihatethiswebsite]

Desert Oasis

✽ Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x f!reader (The Mummy AU)

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part 2 - Cultivating a curious mind

You know what? I blame @dragonnarrative-writes for all of this. It's all their fault for poking this part of my brain in the first place even though I was originally just trying to poke theirs ><

There were only so many places you'd been allowed to go growing up even with a chaperone at your side. Mother brought you up the way any well respected young lady should be, and to be honest you felt much more at home in your skirts and dresses working on your drawings in the parlor than you did climbing over the fence in your backyard like your cousin convinced you to. But your father worried Kyle was improperly rubbing off on you and wanted to find you something to fill your head with where you could still be kept an eye on.

His solution: the Museum of Antiquities in Cairo.

After all, how much trouble could you get into reading about dead guys? At least they wouldn't be trying to chase your skirts as you got older.

Father owned his own shipping company that dealt with the transport of goods and wares, ancient artifacts included. He knew the people who were in charge of the facilities and thought this could be a replacement for the adventures your cousin liked to try to drag you on.

The beautifully painted sarcophagi drew in your imagination like a moth to a flame, chiseled sculptures and pillars depicting ancient beings far different than the god you'd been brought up believing in. And weren't you just the most well behaved little girl when your father brought you along on his business trips. All he had to do was put a book in your hand about the Old Kingdom and you'd stay seated right where he left you until it was time to leave. The drawings in your room turned less from pretty landscapes and fresh vases to imitations of the reliefs you'd seen from photographs of burial chamber walls. Your mother was slightly alarmed at first, but once she saw you still happily keeping up with your piano lessons and needlework she quickly gave in.

Once you were old enough to walk around the city by yourself, you stopped by the museum at least once a week just to spend hours wandering the halls - sometimes more if you noticed a new shipment of wares showing up on your father's ledgers that week slated for delivery. Always so eager to witness the unveiling of new items even if they'd never get put on display. One of the perks of growing up around the loading docks and being a sweet well mannered child to the workers.

You didn't work at the museum with Dr. John Price, but you'd frequented there an awful lot to have come to decent terms with the man. Always gruff, a bit rough around the edges, but boy did he have a mind for antiquities.

He wasn't always the easiest man to deal with; someone who didn't have time for the stupidity that came with being around the uneducated masses during business hours. He'd been working there in some capacity or another since you'd first became a patron, though back in those days he'd been a lot less rigid.

At one point you'd been barred from looking at a book that your father deemed had too much suggestive material in it - it was a tome about Tawaret, goddess of childbirth and fertility - and sent over to your favorite reading chair with something about Pepi II instead. Try as you might you couldn't get into it, mind still lingering on the forbidden subject which was just the latest in your stream of mythology research. You'd been half-heartedly flipping through the pages when a shadow passed you by and casually deposited the desired reading material in your lap, not even bothering to glance your way as he kept moving and turned down another aisle. He was clean shaven back then, but he'd made an impression as a kindred spirit willing to look the other way.

Now almost twenty years later you did your best to stay out of his way and disturb him as little as possible, but every so often you'd be fortunate enough to stumble upon him on a good day where he'd indulge you on certain topics of conversation that flowed smoothly, allowing you to see the lingering passionate twinkle of a younger man hiding behind eyes so full of wisdom and tired experience.

(And if you happened by chance to occassionally pass by a tall, large, tank of a dark robed man waiting patiently for his turn to have an audience with Price on your way out of his office - following you with his deep brown eyes and a cloth cover shrouding the lower half of his face from view - you kept your gaze to the floor and gave him a wide respectful berth, only risking a glance back at the individual long enough to see the broad planes of his back disappearing behind Price's door with a click of the lock)

<< ✿ Previous ✿ << ✽ >> ✿ Next ✿ >>

[Edited 5/8/24: changed formatting, title, tags, and numbering system]

[pekoehoneyncream]

Sergeant John Soap MacTavish Headcanons

Part Two

Words: 700~

TW: Racism (sfw)

Part One

Enjoy!

The MacTavish household has a rule that you're responsible for your own mess, but only your own mess. So if there's a mess but you didn't make it, no ones going to ask you to clean it. If you're feeling especially kind you can help clean up, but it isn't obligatory. It is however very obligatory that you clean your own mess. 

This means that Soap now feels zero initiative to clean messes if he had no hand in making them, which drives Price absolutely insane. Soap has no problem helping out if asked, but the thought honestly wouldn't cross his mind to do it on his own.

Soap naturally has a thick accent. He comes by it honestly, by how, who, and where he was raised. He personally loves it, loves having that connection to his home and his family and his heritage. He’s worked hard to not let it fade while he’s in the army. He listens to Scottish or Gaelic Audio books, Podcasts, and Media(if they’re available), over things in any other language. 

But he also sometimes feel very self-conscious as he's faced quite a bit of backlash and ridicule for the thickness of his accent before. Including when he was a trainee; there was only one other lad from Scotland in his whole battalion, and their accent was much thinner than Soap’s. Soap has mastered suppressing his accent when he needs to, both thanks to his drill sergeant and because he’s aware that being clearly understood is vital in his line of work. Soap has his usual Low Accent voice and he has what Gaz calls his “Talking to the Brass” voice, where there's barely any hint that he’s Scottish at all. The more that Soap tries to suppress his accent the less he uses contractions, he doesn’t know why he does this, he didn't even know he did it until Gaz pointed it out.

This is actually why he’s known as John instead of Coinneach. He was asked, when he enlisted, what his preferred name was, then he was encouraged to say it was John. Easier for the higher ups and common folk. 

Soap has an unholy talent for forcing any coffee machine into producing coffee that isn't just heinous burnt-piss flavoured sludge. Depending on the machine he can brew coffee that's palatable, nice, or world changing and worryingly addictive. He leverages this ability mercilessly, so many hapless fools owe him favors because they craved caffeine that goes down without a gag. Got this ability because the coffee machine the MacTavishs had growing up was ancient and very particular about how it liked to be treated. That coffee machine was nigh-on sentient and believed heartily in negative reinforcement. He makes coffee for the 141 for free, but if the team pisses him off he revokes nice-coffee privileges. Soap has unashamedly been declared the winner of many petty disputes this way. 

Prefers his coffee with a few healthy spoonfuls of powdered creamer and no sugar. He’s used to saving the sugar for his Grannie, mom, and siblings to use(following his Grandad’s lead), and now this is honestly how he likes his coffee.

Soap's Grandad was a music instructor before he retired and insisted the MacTavish brood learn to play instruments. At the age of four their lessons began, they got to pick which instrument, but they had to learn something. Iseabail chose the guitar, Soap picked up their Grannie's fiddle, Eilionoir struggled with the flute and Donella pleased Ma by choosing the accordion, Artair became the house menace when he refused everything but the bagpipes, and Maighread tried to weasel out by picking the tambourine, but agreed to learn the harp when she was rebuffed. Grandad lamented, and Ma thanked god, that not one of them chose a percussion instrument. (Just to paint the picture: When Maighread was 4, Artair was 5, Eilionoir and Donella were 8, Soap was 10, and Iseabail was 11.)

Soap isn't a fan of sweet foods in general, but his favourite candy is saltwater liquorice, though not black liquorice. There's a sweetshop back home that does a flavour of saltwater liquorice they call ‘dearg sassenach’ and it's Soap's absolute favourite. It's a flavour that the shop made themselves and can only be bought from there. Soap is constantly begging his family to send him some. Ghost is the only one of the 141 that's gotten to try it. 

“... Johnny, this tastes like blood.” “Aye. It's well barry.” (No, Soap wasn’t aware it was flavoured after blood when he first tried it as a wee bairn and declared it his favourite. Twas a happy coincidence.)

Thank You For Reading!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[starandcloud]

Price x Imagine

Imagine Price being best friends with the reader's dad, and was a huge part of Y/N's life when she was growing up. Price was like the fun uncle that was constantly around, he was amazing with Y/N and was like a second dad.

"What's the matter Princess? The school scare ya?"

So when he came "home" alone, after a mission, and was extremely quiet when he knocked on the door and gave you a sad smile he picked you up. You didn't understand why he was sad so you just hugged him and you didn't understand why your mom was crying when Price gave her your dad's dog tags...

You also didn't understand why Uncle John (price) was staying the night or why your mom was drinking or why daddy never came home and you didn't understand why your mom was so mean now or why you had to go to a funeral for someone you didn't ever see the body of or why the stone had your daddy's name on it or why your mom had to work and why Uncle John was picking you up from school and bringing you to his house or why you were meeting your dad's group or why your dad wasn't there again but... it was okay because you had Uncle John, and that made it okay.

It wasn't until you were almost ten when you realized why your dad wasn't coming home, that he was KIA and you'd never see him again. It was that night you called Price in tears and begged him to come over so that you could see him, that you begged him not to go on deployment again, and you begged him to stay over so that you knew he'd be okay...

He stayed the night, after all how could he tell you no when you held onto him that tightly and the babysitter didn't know what to do.

He still got deployed but... he came back every single time.

You weren't sure when you started to call him "dad" but... he didn't seem to be opposed to it.

He'd drop you off on your first day of middle school and watched you as you walked towards the school before turning around and rushing back to him. You hugged him as tight as you could, your face being squished into his chest. Price just hugged you back, rocking you gently as he laughed softly.

The nod that you gave made him chuckle and pick you up.

Your question made him smile, and nod.

"Why don't I go in with you? Walk you to the front and then pick you up for lunch? We'll go get McDonalds?"

"With a strawberry milkshake..?"

"With a strawberry milkshake with syrup, I'll even buy you a fresh bottle of it."

His promise made you smile and when he put you back down, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the front office.

"My Daddy's gonna pick me up for lunch!"

You yelled, making him laugh and ruffle your hair. Frizzing the strands and making you laugh brightly, Price talked to the women at the front and worked out how to get you out and back before your next class.

The first day of High school was the same, you were so anxious to get out of the truck. You just sat there, slumped in Price's passenger seat with your eyes closed and your head resting against the headrest.

You said, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked over at him. Your tear-filled eyes broke John's heart, he gently wiped them before smirking.

"Dad..?"

"Yes Princess?"

"Do I have to go in..? I don't want to..."

Price asked in sync with you, making you laugh and wipe your tears.

"If you go in, we'll go get McDonalds-"

"With a strawberry milkshake?"

You smiled and laughed slightly as you took a deep breath and slapped your legs, you grabbed your bag off the truck floor before kissing John's cheek.

"My make-ups smeared now dad..."

"But you're still beautiful Princess."

"Bye dad, I love you. Drive safe!"

You said before jumping out of the truck and slamming the door.

"HEY! EASY ON MY DOORS TIGER! THE TRUCKS OLD!"

Price rolled down his window to yell, a laugh following.

"THEN YOU'RE FUCKING ANCIENT DAD!"

You yelled back as he scoffed and chuckled, you were a snarky little shit. But god damn he was proud of you.

You screamed back before disappearing into the school building.

"CALL ME DURING LUNCH PRINCESS! I'LL PICK YOU UP!"

"I WILL! I LOVE YOU DAD!"

He watched you graduate and god damn he was proud. You had never seen him cry before but... that was the day he did. You cried too, and hugged him tight. Smearing make-up on his uniform as he held you tight and pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he rocked you. He had just gotten off the plane, and had practically sped here, to get to your graduation on time. He was so proud of you, when you graduated. Later that night when the two of you sat on his porch, whiskey in his class and heavily diluted whiskey in yours.

"Where're you going to college?"

Price asked, as he raised the glass to his lips.

"Actually... I'm going to enlist"

Whiskey had never tasted so bitter on his tongue before, never so heavy.

"Are you... sure Princess?"

John asked, looking at you. Concern in his eyes, he watched as you fiddled with the blanket that covered your legs as you sat in the rocking chair. You didn't make eye contact with him, but took a deep breathe.

"I told you when I was little dad... I wanna be just like you..."

"Captain."

Watching you graduate boot his eyes watered before he tapped you out, your legs wrapped around his as he picked you up and he hugged him tight.

No matter how old you got, you were still his princess. The little girl who would beg him to stay the night to watch one more Disney movie and to put one more sticker on his face and one more cookie and one more story before bed and one more hug before he left. You were still the little girl who was so scared to go into middle school, and the little girl who he went dress shopping with for the winter dance, and the little girl who was terrified to get his nails done so he got his done with her so she wouldn't be as scared, the little girl who loved her strawberry milkshakes and would never turn down a race to show off to a boy.

He always saw you as a ten-year-old little girl, his daughter, so when the transfer papers for you landed on his desk. He stared at it, confused before laughing a bit.

This couldn't be right, this was a prank from his boys. So he signed it, knowing it'd get his boys a kick but... when you showed up on his base... his stomach tightened and his face paled. He stared at you, as you got out of the helicopter. He watched as you rushed towards him and... didn't hug him..?

You said, before saluting him.

You thought you had done something wrong, when he just stared at you. A bewildered look on his face before he mumbled.

You said, as his arms wrapped around you. He hugged you tight and you returned it, tears welled in your eyes as you held onto him tight.

"Princess..?"

"Hi Daddy..."

"I've missed you so much Dad..."

"I've missed you more Princess..."

Price said as he broke the hug and moved what hair he had knocked out of place from your face.

He just kept looking at you, you were... so different. War-hardened and scarred... but still his little girl.

"FUCK!"

He didn't want you on this mission.

He didn't want you to be involved with the cartel for this mission, but he didn't have a choice.

He didn't have a choice when you had to be split up from him, he didn't have a choice when you had to go a different direction and route, or when you had to defend yourself against the Shadow Company.

The area fell quiet as their Captain swore, it was... something odd. The group had never heard Price swear or seen him act like this. He rested his head against one of the metal shipping containers before slamming his clenched fist against the chilled metal.

Someone reported and Price pinched the bridge of his nose, his worry lines becoming deeper as he started to pace.

"Where was the last place Pri... Firefly was seen."

"Heading towards the headquarters of the Shadow Company."

When he found you, he wasn't sure what he was expecting but... Graves' arm being wrapped around you... wasn't it. He wasn't expecting to see how your eyes bounced over him, he wasn't expecting to hear a sob to come from you as you fumbled over to him. He held you up and hugged you tight, tucking your head under his chin he shielded you from everyone's view as you gripped him tightly.

Firefly was out there.

One of is his men was out there.

Someone he loved was out there.

Someone he cherished was out there.

His daughter was out there.

God damn it, he was a shitty dad.

"Dad! Daddaddaddaddadddad daddy..."

"I'm here... I'm here Princess... You're safe now... I've got you..."

"He said you were DEAD papa..."

Price promised as he glared down Graves, who had a sickening grin on his lips. Who put his hands up in defeat and backed into the darkness.

You never told John what had happened that day but... he noticed how paranoid you were after. How you'd call him in hysterics when he had left the house with you, how you'd quietly check his bedroom then his office at night. How you'd make excuses to constantly see him, how your eyes would instantly bounce around the room for him, how if he was late for a meeting; you'd be pacing and chewing on your nails, how you'd have night terrors and would scream late at night. How you'd wake yourself up from the hysterical crying and screaming from the terrors, how you wouldn't sleep until morning or until he lured you to the couch and put on that god-forsaken Atlantis movie for at least the ten thousandth time in your life. How, unless you knew he was asleep and in his room, you wouldn't sleep. How you'd be extremely cautious with changing, and how your sleeves would all be long; even in the summer heat, how you always wore pants or leggings, how your hair was down at much as possible.

It wasn't until six months later that you broke down and told him.

"I'm okay, I promise you that Princess. I told you, I'm always going to come home. I promised you I would, I'd never break my promises to you."

You choked out, curled up in John's lap as he wrapped you in blanket and rocked you.

As you cried he slowly stood up, he held you up as he made you cocoa; with the rainbow sprinkles, marshmallows, and whipped cream you loved. He slowly calmed you down as he walked around with you in his arms, rubbing your back as he turned on the Atlantis Soundtrack and walk around gently bouncing you. Just like when you were little.

He said as he gently tucked some hair from your face behind your ear, he hadn't noticed you had fallen asleep until Ghost and Soap came to his home. Having similar issues, and Ghost pointed at you.

John said as he kissed your head and tucked you in, in his bed and shut the light off. He left the door open enough to hear if you woke up, which Soap teased him for but found it sweet.

"Firefly's passed out on your shoulder Price."

"... I know... Let her sleep Simon, she's had a rough night..."

"Dad? Dad!? DAD!?"

You healed enough to have a decent sleep schedule when you had a skewed mission. A bomb went off by your base, which destroyed multiple tents and severely hurt the people inside.

As you were being evacuated, you didn't see John.

You screamed before going back to the tents, you barely saw his body under a tent post in the dark. You ran towards him and did your best to carry him towards the medics.

"MEDIC! MEDIC!"

You screamed as you fumbled into the tent, Price was taken from you and someone tended to you.

Hours passed and you stared blankly at the wall, before you asked your nurse.

"Where's my dad..? John Price..?"

"He was... taken to a different hos-"

"Where."

You demanded to know. As soon as you were told, you (more or less) forced Soap to drive you there.

You looked clinically insane when you burst through the hospital doors and demanded to know where "John Price" was. You found his room and were destroyed to find out that he was in a coma, and you felt like it was your fault.

Your bag hit the floor, with a loud thump, catching John's attention.

You spent months visiting him and just begging for him to wake up, you didn't speak much and just held his hand.

It wasn't until you walked in one day and saw him sitting up, you actually cried.

"Hey Princess..."

He said softly, a gentle smile on his face as he held his arms open for you.

Your feet thumped against the tile of the hospital and you ran to him, you wrapped your arms around him and sobbed.

He said, making you choke out a laugh as he used your callsign.

"Dad... dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad papa..."

"That's me, I'm here Little Firefly..."

He said as he kissed the top of your head and held you close.

"That's Princess to you Dad..."

"I know Y/N, I know..."

You had seen John cry twice in your life, once at your graduation and once at your wedding when he saw you step out of the dressing room. The white dress you had picked out, made him tear up and what made him break was when you gently hugged him and asked.

He responded, holding you close as tears rolled down his face. You were absolutely beautiful in white and... he was so happy to see you so happy. As he walked you down the aisle, he could feel your excitement and when he gave you away... he watched as you took a few steps before turning around and hugging him tight and whispering.

"How do I look Dad..?"

"Like an angel..."

"Thank you Uncle John... I love you so much dad..."

John had to bite back a sob as he walked back to his seat, he felt Gaz's hand on his back as John wiped his tears and watched you.

"Grandpa!"

Little voices screamed as they fumbled out of the truck and rushed towards John, he laughed as he picked the girls up and kissed both of their heads.

A little boy said as he hugged Price's leg, making their grandfather roll his eye and chuckle.

"There's my girls! Have you two been behaving?"

"No! They've been so mean to me Grandpa!"

You said as you walked towards him, holding your youngest on your hip. A gentle smile on your face as Price put the girls down and pulled you into a gentle hug.

"Just like your mother."

"I was a saint, thank you very much dad!"

"Hey my Princess..."

"Hey dad..."

"DADDY!"

You said, in a gentle tone as you relaxed into Price.

Later that night when you and your husband were playing with the kids, he watched as you ran from your husband; playfully screaming as he pelted you with nerf bullets.

You screamed and ran to Price, laughing as you hid behind him, which he (bravely) protected you from your husband by firing nerf bullets back at him.

Watching you be so happy yet... still coming to him and calling him dad... really drove it home to him that.

You'll always be a Daddy's Girl.

[specter319]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄? (Ace Combat x CoD 141)

A/N: As a little Christmas present, I decided to work on a little something something, seeing a random anon state in @mockerycrow's Ask about fighter jets and Task Force 141 got my interest real quick, having been someone who got introduced to these two fandoms 1-2 years ago I absolutely adore the storyline in regards to Trigger and Count, but also the storyline as a whole, neatly wrapping up the reason why three strikes is called three strikes, if only a certain other game could have the same sort of stable plot- Complaints about the plot aside for those who stumble upon it have fun with this little short story that's been brewing in my head! Please enjoy the Homoeroticism of Ghost and Soap Trigger Warnings: Mention of Blood Word Count: 2.5k Words Characters: John 'Soap' MacTavish x Simon 'Ghost' Riley, mentions of Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick and Johnathan Price.

From the moment John MacTavish’s Scottish blue eyes gazed upwards into the beautiful atmosphere above him, he knew he was utterly and completely fucked. It all started with one moment in time, watching the infamous ‘Ghost’ launch one of their newly brought F-35s testing it out for another squadron, making sure all systems were in check. Watching it from the fences as the utter decimation of their ears thanks to the lack of protection were good faith to the man taking it, for what seemed to be a joy ride. And as Kyle and John stood there, seeing it hovering just mere meters above the runway, their joy was all but uncontainable in knowing just who was behind the sticks.

Conversations were the only thing that took over the engines' mighty roar as Kyle and John yelled at the inanimate object in celebration.

“Ooh yeah! Ooh yeah!” Kyle yelled out.

“Ooh, go ‘un, go ‘un” John egged right back.

And then, just as it pulled up, sure it was now at best pulling upwards of 5 gees, the men on the ground cheered.

“Go on you fuckin’ beauty!” Just as it was making its way further into the clouds, graciously curving its own form into the shape of them. 

They were ecstatic, joyful, even, at least one was, to see a man so tall, almost built like a damn statue from ancient history managing to tame a beast so wild, and wicked. And yet, knowing that it was almost second nature in that man's blood to fly it, because that bastard was the only one allowed, thanks to the great charm of the bastards in the west, to have an F-22 Raptor. The only one in the UK, belonged to a man who had no name, never showed his face to the people he didn’t know, including the two men who stood there on the grassy knoll outside of the airbase cheering him on. 

What a weird shitpot of luck that was, almost as if the gods of fate above had been watching the two men above, seeing them be so supportive of a man who never had the cheers of his fellow squad members, but instead, feared him. Tried to rebel against him, just to get a far enough away distance to stay away from a man and his, as some people called it ‘Raptor’s Ghost’.

Those that had seen it, had been lucky enough to tell the tale, at least, on the side he came back to, fellow squadron and captain, but those who had been on the receiving side of those guns as they lifted from their molded seam, only saw a wisp of a dark gray aircraft, before a fiery explosion filled their cabin.

Yes, there was one thing to be known about this ‘Ghosts’ jet — he’d specified that he must have it in a darker gray. Just a couple of shades darker than what the original metal was painted as. And the thing was? Somehow, amongst his captains ranking, the government and even the fuckers down in Lockheed — they’d said yes to the request. Even if a few bureaucrats in the Pentagon were waving the red flag from the start.

So he guessed that’s what the plan was then, to go and catch a sneak in the middle of the night of what it looked like, though Kyle tried with all of his might to persuade him otherwise, John was dead set on seeing the beauty that stood in the dead of the night in Ghost’s hangar, wielded far away from the rest of the base, but close enough to know that the rest of the team always, haunted by a Ghost, he guessed that’s where the name came from then. Given that this was usually seen beside the B-2, a call sign of Ghost would’ve been fitting for someone in a something like this. And it seemed like fate was tempting him all and amongst this, because, as John approached the hangar, as big as it was, there was a crack left open, not closed, like all the other times he’d passed it in his own jet. Only to then realize this was the reason why they had called him Ghost to begin with, no one thought he was around, until it was too late.

Everyone knew this Ghost, was a guy, they’d heard his voice, never heard him laugh, was only ever a man of a few simple commands and went off when requested. What caught John MacTavish off guard however, was not only the hangar open, but the place had reeked of oil and fuel, only to be diverged its acoustics of the tin metal in the sound of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, a far cry from the throat roar of the hotdogged engines, John could already tell what Ghost had been doing to the poor thing. Either someone had been here recently or there was still someone here, but that never mattered as his Scottish blue eyes once more, got him fucked over, classical music be damned.

The metallic gray was no longer present, much like he had seen on the various photos that had beautifully given the thing a personality of beauty, and yet deadly. But instead, it was given a more, mature grayed look, as if it was a rehashed version of the F-35, the very same one he had been seen in this afternoon in a reskinned jet. Sudden realizations hit the man when thinking in Ghost’s logic, not too shabby for a Ghost when John had realized that much to his enemies disliking, when they suddenly realized that the jet was no longer a most recent US fighter, it was too late to break off anyway.

And much akin to John’s own footsteps, he’d realized that he was pulled in by the absolute sheer squared beauty of the thing and had moved right into the Ghost’s trap.

“What are you doin’ in my hangar?” Ghost lowly spoke, standing to the side, having seen him since he strolled in here. 

“Jesus wept!” John spoke as he suddenly turned around, the closed distance between them was something almost scary at just how close and personal this man had gotten, and all amongst that, he seemingly had the goal to wear a bloody balaclava, all the while wearing a stripped down version of the gear they would have to haul around on their bodies. Was he really that comfortable in wearing the same shit each day? At least the only thing invading his senses was oil and fuel. 

“I said what are ya doing here?” Ghost questioned before his eyes glanced over at the hangar “Squadron leaders gonna know about this,” his voice loomed.

“Sorry,” That’s all the weak bastard had as he tried to pick himself up faster than he could pull back on his own stick. “A’m interested in that piece of art ye’v got there, heard you were the one flying the Lightning around this mornin’”

“So you were the two hanging around the fence”

John stiffened at the sheer mention of that, he’d seen them? He didn’t think he had given the height already gained as he passed the pair of them from the runway.

“Wanted to watch her give her a proper launch, sir” John hesitated as Ghost only snorted and shook his head at the mention of the last word.

“Flight Lieutenant to you” This Ghost guy seemingly didn’t want to have him out of his hangar after all, but there was no doubt that heavy brown eyes were on him, painted darker then the plane before him as his eyes registered on MacTavish’s uniform still barely on given the zip that was seemingly fought with, the sheen of sweat that was just above the ridgeline of his eyebrows gave away just how much he’d been working during the rest of his day, when he seemingly wasn’t cheering this man on, then again. MacTavish did seem like a familiar last name, what could hurt but to take a guess.

“Apologies,” John moved ever so closer to the jet, almost as if he were to go ahead and, to the thought running in the back of Ghost’s mind, steal it. Poor bastard, probably wouldn’t be able to handle the ride as well as he could. “Does that mean I get to call you LT then?”

The cocky chatter over the radio, often with another teammate, only gave Ghost all the more confidence to take that stab in the dark to try and pinpoint just who he was.

“You can, so long as you tell me if you’re the one flying that bloody F-16 around.”

John’s eyes suddenly went wide, and of course, that cocky Brit saw it, and with his own pair too. His soul had actively left his body in the acknowledgement that someone had noticed his maneuverability, everyone else had F/A-18’s. But MacTavish was the one that stood his ground when he said he wanted a former fighter pilots F-16, ready to be given back to the Americans, decommissioned, probably in a scrap heap, and yet, here he was, breathing new life into it and treating it like it had just come off the factory rollers. Though, his only fault that he seemingly had with it, was that of the lack of gun ammunition, paling in comparison to something like the beast that stood before him.

“Uh, and why would tha’ be?” 

Ghost paused, raising a brow in confusion, maybe he was going to have to talk to John’s squad leader, had he really not seen beyond his two feet at just who he had under his wing, the man could maneuver the thing as well as he could like the jet he stood before and maybe, if he ever took the chance (which, in high unlikely doubt he would) he could probably pilot Ghost’s, if not, with just a bigger amount of hesitation.

“Just wanted to give a recommendation to the squadron leader as to who to take under our wing, old talents retiring at the end of the year, figured I’d give whoevers flying that F-16 and the one with the yellow strip along the body of the ‘18 a fighting chance at joining the 141” He brushed it off, like it was a chance to come clean. Ghost knew that MacTavish was the one flying the thing, often put in a good word about it to Price. And Price often agreed, that and ‘Gaz’ who was often his wingmanaccording to Price’s notes were often hotshots, but never in an egotistical, ‘wanting to show who’s boss’ way, it was always one of teamwork, and he quite enjoyed seeing them chant as one of their other teammates took down a target before they did.

“The 141?” MacTavish asked

“Yeah, just need to find out who the pair are in the two jets first” Ghost was toying with him as he finally made a move over to his own, inspecting the various scratches that were seemingly evident in the light, but gave the aircraft a seemingly weathered look, one that, Ghost admired. 

“There a reason why they call you the Ghost?” Quick this one was to change the subject, avoiding it, but copying him all the more in his movements as John did the same, placing a gentle hand along the aircraft as his calloused fingers felt a deep scar along the face of the jet, maybe that’s why he rarely had repairs done to the thing other than ones that were required. Maybe that’s why he wears the mask, he’s damaged, just like the bird before him – but he still flies, still finds meaning in the daylight and blue hues of skies.

“There a reason why you’re dancing around the question?” Their hands moved along the surface of the steel at almost the same time, unknown, but as if they were tracing one another's patterns as the question was left in the air for a bit too long before they finally moved to the nose of the aircraft, having no choice but to look at one another as they did so.

“Could say the same,” He watched as Ghost moved towards him, facing him, how he towered over the man with that stature of power, and yet, the only real dominating power he seemingly had left was his rank, and the jet. Because all the smug bastard did was place his hands behind his back and look down at the Scotsman, as if inspecting him as he did the jet, to see if like him, he too had scars beneath that mohawk and blue eyes that seemingly contrasted ever so beautifully along the dark gray. “What happens if one of us already knows the answers?” 

“Then I guess one of us will have to await the answers of the future, but if they already know the answers, they shouldn’t have to wait too long” They both knew one another were staring, helplessly, but stopping it neither as eyes behind that mask squinted ever so gently. So he did have his scars, one on the chin, must have had a bad accident for it to get that bad, and the blood from it too.

“Then I guess I’ll ‘ave ta’ see me way out of this museum then huh? Wouldn’t want ta make a scene now aye?” John smiled, physically having to retch himself from the spot he stood in, not wanting to move away from the view that was before him.

“Don’t quite appreciate customers making a scene and disturbing the nature of this art” So he wasn’t the only one to quickly move along with what he was suggesting as he followed him, only ever a few steps behind, maybe that’s why he got that name, loud as anything in a jet, then he never exists once the engines shut off.

Ghost eventually stopped following him as John made his way out near the doors of the hangar, lingering around just a bit more before he stopped in his tracks, just maybe, if he really did have the answers, he could see how his future LT would respond. “Don’t think I could handle two pieces of art in a museum, never been able ta handle more than one” He swore up and down he saw the man’s head snap into place about that comment, a slight squint at the body language that John was trying to portray as he moved through the hangar doors. “Have a good night, LT”

“Officer Mactavish.”

Payback time.

“Aye sir?” And they’d fallen into line already, a wingman, of sorts, to a Ghost.

“Call me Simon”

Now MacTavish was standing there, being a complete idiot, baffled by the fact that he, of all people, managed to get into the inner circle of a man named Simon, a Ghost. A snort was then heard through the airy atmosphere as he suddenly turned around and walked back towards the stairs of his office, looking back over his shoulder, leaving him in a scrambled state that was the brain of John MacTavish.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” He paused, “For a F-16 Pilot.”

So that’s his name.

[tamorisana]

a lil sneak peck

“You are not kidnapping me, are you Nik?” only makes Nik laugh as he holds and guides his lover on their well-deserved two-week, a very desired, leave and he has a plan for this one specific day.

“No, I’m not, milyy, but I am taking you somewhere for today.” he stopped as he turned to have a look at Price. His mother is turning in her coffin watching him fall in love with John more and more every day. How could he not? His Captain is charming, charismatic and is absolutely beautiful.

As a child, Nikolay was an energetic reckless boy who was covered in bandages and bandaids like it was his second skin and could not sit for a minute except for times when his father sits down in the old, small kitchen, his mother is making dinner beside him and he himself is set down on the opposite of a table. His father, the one best man he ever knew, always starts with “Kolya, would you like to hear a story? Then sit straight and listen” and he would. It’s always been the myths of Ancient Grece and its Gods. His favourite ones are about Aphrodite and he likes to think he is her favourite too. There are no other explanations for how he got the attention of a such beautiful man other than John is a present from the gods.

“Hope you don’t mind?” Nikolai gives his partner's hand a light squeeze, knowing full well that-“With you? I’m ready to go into the heart of Yakutia with you.”

“Oh fuck no. I’m not going there.”

milyy - cutie (literally); more closer to honey and love

[konigsberg]

would you consider (if you havent already) making a rec list for books/authors/poets/etc? your breadth of classics knowledge and the source material you draw inspiration from always intrigues me.

I'd be happy to, but I think I might (accidentally) give the impression of being more familiar with a lot of these things than I actually am haha.

I'll focus on classics or classics-related recs, but there are some things I'll throw in here because, even though they aren't classics (or classics in the sense I think you probably mean, as in directly related to ancient Greece etc.), they've influenced what I’ve written in some way. I should also be clear, I haven’t read all of these things, sometimes only pieces, or they’re things I’ve been meaning to read and keep putting off but people might be interested in. And I’m definitely not an expert. I’m not properly educated on these topics, so I’m not sure if anything I include might be considered a bad resource by someone with a background in this field.

Also, as I was putting together this list… I was gawking at the prices of so many of these. Like 90% I grabbed at my local secondhand bookstore and I would encourage anyone interested to try to get these used (Thriftbooks is an online store to look at if you don’t have a good local store, though I’m not sure where all it ships to) or from a site like Project Gutenberg etc. Libraries are always good too, of course (some might be on Archive.org, which is a place where you can check out books online). I may be able to help you find ways to get your hands on some of these sources if you’re struggling to find it.

Fiction

Aethiopica by Heliodorus (tr. Moses Hadas) - An ancient Greek novel. “The Aethiopica tells the story of an Ethiopian princess and a Thessalian prince who undergo a series of perils (battles, voyages, piracy, abductions, robbery, and torture) before their eventual happy marriage in the heroine’s homeland.” Summary from here.

An Oresteia (tr. Anne Carson) - Carson’s translations of Aiskhylos' Agamemnon, Sophokles' Elektra, and Euripides' Orestes. Literally anything Carson touches is gold, please just read everything translated or written by her here, even if you’ve read other translations. “After the murder of her daughter Iphigeneia by her husband, Agamemnon, Klytaimestra exacts a mother's revenge, murdering Agamemnon and his mistress, Kassandra. Displeased with Klytaimestra's actions, Apollo calls on her son, Orestes, to avenge his father's death with the help of his sister Elektra. In the end, Orestes is driven mad by the Furies for his bloody betrayal of family. Condemned to death by the people of Argos, he and Elektra must justify their actions ― or flout society, justice and the gods.”

Arete: Greek Sports from Ancient Sources by Stephen G. Miller - All about the concept of arete. Exactly what it says on the tin.

The Constraints of Desire: The Anthropology of Sex and Gender in Ancient Greece by John J. Winkler - Another that’s exactly what it says on the tin. “For centuries, classical scholars have intensely debated the "position of women" in classical Athens. Did women have a vast but informal power, or were they little better than slaves? Using methods developed from feminist anthropology, Winkler steps back from this narrowly framed question and puts it in the larger context of how sex and gender in ancient Greece were culturally constructed. His innovative approach uncovers the very real possibilities for female autonomy that existed in Greek society.” (My friend has another book from this collection (?) called The New Ancient World, which I want to get if I ever actually… finish reading this one. But that one is called One Hundred Years of Sexuality, I think, and there’s another called Games of Venus, which also looks very interesting so I want to mention them.)

The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) by Apuleius (tr. E.J. Kenney) - This is another that feels like it might go without saying, but whatever. This is where the story of Cupid & Psyche is told. If I understand correctly, this is the oldest (surviving, and possibly only?) extended account of Eros & Psyche’s myth, though art of the two appears much earlier so I assume Apuleius was drawing from older sources. “Written towards the end of the second century AD, The Golden Ass tells the story of the many adventures of a young man whose fascination with witchcraft leads him to be transformed into a donkey. The bewitched Lucius passes from owner to owner - encountering a desperate gang of robbers and being forced to perform lewd 'human' tricks on stage - until the Goddess Isis finally breaks the spell and initiates Lucius into her cult.” Actually, this is the physical copy I have and I got it just because I really wanted a physical copy, but I haven’t read it. I read a version for free online years ago when my obsession with Cupid & Psyche first took shape and I… have no clue who translated that one. But, well, here we are. You can definitely find this on Project Gutenberg, probably by a different translator, though.

Greek Fictional Letters (edited by C.D.N. Costa) - “This book explores a relatively unfamiliar and under-appreciated area of Greek literature: imaginary letters written between about 100 BC and 500 AD. Many of them are light-hearted and funny, and describe the lives of ordinary people--fisherman, farmers, courtesans. Others look at more serious and philosophical aspects of life. All the letters are translated, and the notes offer help to both expert and less informed readers.”

Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides (tr. Anne Carson) - Carson’s translations of the plays Herakles, Hekabe, Hippolytos, and Alkestis. “Herakles, in which the hero swaggers home to destroy his own family; Hekabe, set after the Trojan War, in which Hektor’s widow takes vengeance on her Greek captors; Hippolytos, about love and the horror of love; and the strange tragic-comedy fable Alkestis, which tells of a husband who arranges for his wife to die in his place.”

The Iliad by Homer (tr. Robert Fagles) - Do I need to include this? I’m including this, if only to say this is the translation I have.

Medea by Euripides - This is, of course, the play depicting what happens when Jason attempts to remarry, betraying Medea. I can’t find my copy right now to specify which translation, but I didn’t particularly enjoy it anyway (the translation, not the play to be clear). Here’s a copy on Gutenberg.

The Odyssey by Homer (tr. Emily Wilson) - Again, just noting this is the translation I have more than anything.

The Voyage of Argo: The Argonautica by Apollonius of Rhodes (tr. E.V. Rieu) - Covers Jason’s quest. You can find various translations for free on Project Gutenberg.

Nonfiction

The Black Andromeda by Elizabeth McGrath - This is a paper about Princess Andromeda’s race and how it has been depicted throughout art and literature. It’s relevant to the Aethiopica and how it handles or fails to handle race.

Burial customs, the afterlife and the pollution of death in ancient Greece by Francois Pieter and Louise Cilliers - A research paper covering exactly what it says it does. I haven’t read much of this even though I really should and the parts I have read are so, so interesting.

The Encyclopedia of Ancient Greece by Carlos Gómez - General history.

Eros the Bittersweet: An Essay by Anne Carson - All about love as the ancient Greeks conceptualized it. I beg you all to read this. This is the one I’ve posted a bunch of my notes on to twitter. “A book about romantic love, Eros the Bittersweet is Anne Carson's exploration of the concept of "eros" in both classical philosophy and literature. Beginning with, "It was Sappho who first called eros 'bittersweet.' No one who has been in love disputes her," Carson examines her subject from numerous points of view, creating a lyrical meditation in the tradition of William Carlos Williams's Spring and All and William H. Gass's On Being Blue.”

The Gardens of Adonis: Spices in Greek Mythology by Marcel Detienne (tr. Janet Lloyd) - I haven’t read much of this, but I know I need to. “Rich with implications for the history of sexuality, gender issues, and patterns of Hellenic literary imagining, Marcel Detienne's landmark book recasts long-standing ideas about the fertility myth of Adonis.”

Granddaughter of the Sun: A Study of Euripides' Medea by C.A.E. Luschnig - I’ve also been posting screenshots from this as I read it because it makes me super unhinged. All about Her… “By looking at aspects of Medea that are largely overlooked in the criticism, this book aims at an open and multiple reading. It shows that stories presented in the drama of 5th century Athens are not unrelated to human beings who actually exist.”

Magika Hiera: Ancient Greek Magic and Religion - “This collection challenges the tendency among scholars of ancient Greece to see magical and religious ritual as mutually exclusive and to ignore ‘magical’ practices in Greek religion.”

Portraits of Grief: Death, Mourning and the Expression of Sorrow on White-Ground Lêkythoi by Molly Evangeline Allen - Someone’s research on funerary vases. I haven’t read much of it, but I came across it while trying to find other info and it looked interesting.

Poetry

Ovid: The Erotic Poems (tr. Peter Green) - Ovid is a Roman poet, but I think his work might be of interest. “This collection of Ovid's poems deals with the whole spectrum of sexual desire, ranging from deeply emotional declarations of eternal devotion to flippant arguments for promiscuity.”

Ovid’s Poetry of Exile (tr. David R. Slavitt) - More of Ovid’s work.

Sappho: A New Translation of the Complete Works (tr. Diane J. Rayor) - Please… Please… any translations of Sappho you can get… read them…

Miscellaneous

Desire, Discord and Death: Approaches to Near Eastern Myth by Neal H. Walls - Obviously not Greek, but I feel like anyone interested in ancient mythology about queerness, love, death, and sex would find this really interesting. “The three essays presented in this volume reveal the symbolic complexity and poetic visions of ancient Near Eastern mythology. The author explores the interrelated themes of erotic desire, divine conflict, and death's realm in selected ancient Mesopotamian and Egyptian mythological narratives using contemporary methods of literary analysis. Topics include the construction of desire in the Gilgamesh epic, a psychoanalytic approach to 'The Contendings of Horus and Seth', and gender and the exercise of power in the stormy romance of Nergal and Ereshkigal.”

Erotism: Death and Sensuality by Georges Bataille (tr. Mary Dalwood) - I haven’t read much of this and I know based on Bataille’s fiction (my man was really on some shit)… this is sure to be really unhinged. But it’s all about life, death, religion, and sex. “Bataille challenges any single discourse on the erotic. The scope of his inquiry ranges from Emily Bronte to Sade,from St. Therese to Claude Levi-Strauss and Dr. Kinsey.  The subjects he covers include prostitution, mythical ecstasy, cruelty, and organized war. Investigating desire prior to and extending beyond the realm of sexuality, he argues that eroticism is ‘a psychological quest not alien to death.’” I feel like… there probably needs to be trigger warnings for this one, but who knows what lol. This is actually the main book I’ve been using to help me learn French too, which is… a choice on my part for real, but that’s getting really off topic.

[gaunt-and-hungry]

OC Introduction: Heinrich (Nemesis) Cornelius Reiss

Nemesis -- Ancient Greek: Νέμεσις, The name is often connected with the Greek verb νέμειν némein which means "distribute, attribute". The name is also related to the Greek word némein, which means "to give what is due". Heinrich -- Name of Birth -- "Heinrich" Ruler of the Home. Home Ruler - composed of the Germanic elements "heim" and "ric". "Heim" means "home" and "ric" means "power, ruler."

Born in Salem, Massachusetts. Upper Class. Murdered his parents at thirteen. Has healthy sleeping habits. Possesses the largest occult library in England.

Occultist looking to study the unusual reaches of the world. Knows everything there is to know about the obscure and anomalytic.

Forty Years Old (Or so he says) -- He/Him -- Gay Might not even be human anymore...

A terrifyingly intelligent man with a charming demeanor. Polite, well spoken and well dressed if he does not charm his way through life then he is leaving behind a trail of blood. His aim is to document occult and ritual manners across the globe from very obscure places for his own personal record keeping. Archives forbidden and dark magics and myths. Best friend of Wilbur whom he gifted the name of "Erebus" to. The one person he could never bring himself to eliminate and is strangely fond of the younger man. The Price of Knowledge is invaluable. Knowledge must be sought no matter what the cost... No matter the blood shed.

People of Interest: Leftenant John Irving ~ Dr. Harry Goodsir ~ Thomas Blanky ~ Wilbur Flamel (OC is a character of dubious moral standing. Interactions accepted but engage at your own risk)

Atrocious. Abhorrent. Salacious. Felonious. Curious. Charming. "It would be crazy if I died! That would be a capital riot!"

Weakness: Ego. Thirst for knowledge. "Obviously it's a tragedy but boy oh boy is that a laugh riot!" Strengths: Knowledge. Incredibly patient. Nothing seems to phase him. Indominable in ways that are borderline horrific. Cold blooded in the face of any conflict. Unshakable and unfettered no matter the eldritch horror unfurling before him. Impassive to all danger. "You all will, in very likely chance, all perish. I do love that for you all. You deserve to die tragically and remind others why you should not have come."

"Friends murder each other all the time!" - "It doesn't take a killer to murder It only takes a reason to kill We've all got evidence of innocence, it's "everything's coincidence" The difference twixt fate and free will is whether you're singing" "You, could you take a look at me? (Man no more than animal is made of moral chemicals) Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad? (Any form mechanical, thank you, God) We're singing, ooh (from the hordes of cannibals) Whatever you think of me (to psych wards of hospitals) If you were in my shoes (it's a small world, after all) You'd see I wear the same size as you Oh, oh, right!" - (Laplace's Angel - Will Wood)

"Yes I may be evil and yes I may be deranged and yes I may be abhorrent and beyond all rational comprehension. And yes I might practise dark magic and yes I may be guilty of atrocities and yes there might be no turning back from the horrors I have unleashed on the world. What of it?" - "I drank the blood of angels from a bottle Just to see if I could call the lightning down It hasn't struck me yet, and I would wage my soul to bet That there ain't no one throwing lightning anyhow" - (Blood of Angels - Brown Bird)

"Oh, don't get your filthy blood all over my coat now. We can't have that." - "Such a pure devotion to your skin Who'll absolve you from your sin You flee communion paranoid Now your cup is the void" - (It Tore Your Heart Out - Dirt Poor Robins) "Do not acknowledge me as a human being. It disgusts me."

"I do not like how he makes me feel. He makes me... He makes me feel, Wilbur. He makes me feel; and I do. Not. Like. It." - " "Angel" he calls me Does he know that I'm falling From the precipice that I tripped off long ago "You're so pure," he says Does he knows I'm forsaken The original sinner But soon he'll know For if I'm going down I guess I'll take you with me." - (the fruits - Paris Paloma)

"Names are power, love. Why do you think they call me Nemesis?" - "Kiss me you animal I need to take you in real slow Cause dying on your lips is how I wanna go Connect with the sound you're making Connect with my body whoa Kiss me you animal and don't ever let me go Kiss me animal" - (Kiss me you Animal - Burn the Ballroom)

"Brought to my knees. Oh how the mighty falls. Ironic, isn't it? A mortal man and I have crumbled like Babel." - "Let my hands be your chapel Treat my screams like your Bible I'll deny you of salvation I'll be the reason you repent Kiss me like I'm a conviction Beg for divinity in my breath Regret my touch So much that you Curse your baptism" - (salvation - Christabelle Marbun)

If there was such a thing as “evil” in the universe, Heinrich Cornelius Reiss would be the flesh and blood of it. If there was such a thing as “evil” in the world of man, Heinrich Cornelius Reiss would be its judge, jury and executioner. If there were such things, of course. To Heinrich, no such thing exists. No such fallacy and fantasy such as “Evil” were anything more than the pitiful cries of those fallen prey to the turbulent cruelty of the universe. If there was a God, then either he hides in fear of Heinrich Cornelius Reiss or he would have tried to cut this man down before he was born. If there was a God, Heinrich would have killed him long, long ago. Not, of course, out of malice or any particular reason thrust upon him. He simply, as he would put it, would like to see what would happen.

Heinrich Cornelius Reiss, above anything else, is a man of hard work, education, and cruelty. One would think he released moral compasses long ago in his life. This is simply not true at all, and instead he navigates with a device within his body and mind that simply cannot be read in any rational human language. It is simply put, not convenient to allow such paltry things to obscure his efforts of achieving a great collection of obscure and rare knowledge as well as accompanying artefacts. It pays to own land. It also pays to own an impressive private library in Central London where he may secure such knowledge.

The man with the power is the man with the knowledge, after all. Sometimes that knowledge must come with a smattering of blood and matted hair clenched in a tight fist with screams that cannot be heard this far underground. Thankfully, his hard work often paid off and yielded handsome results. If only such results could be acquired in the frozen arctic North. Perhaps, yet, he may walk away with something of value, even if it is the first and only thing in the universe to cripple his resolve. Now, to what lengths he will go to swallow his pride and keep these frozen men alive alongside Wilbur... That remains to be seen.

OC Introduction of Nemesis - AKA Heinrich Cornelius Reiss

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for December 15, 2023

 Proverbs: God's Wisdom for the Day Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 30:20-23 (KJV): 20 Such is the way of an adulterous woman; she eateth, and wipeth her mouth, and saith, I have done no wickedness. 21 For three things the earth is disquieted, and for four which it cannot bear: 22 For a servant when he reigneth; and a fool when he is filled with meat; 23 For an odious woman when she is married; and a handmaid that is heir to her mistress. Proverbs 30:20-23 (AMP): 20 This is the way of an adulterous woman: she eats and wipes her mouth and says, I have done no wickedness. 21 Under three things the earth is disquieted, and under four it cannot bear up: 22 Under a servant when he reigns, a (empty-headed) fool when he is filled with food, 23 An unloved and repugnant woman when she is married, and a maidservant when she supplants her mistress.

Thought for the Day

Verses 20-23 - These verses describe an array of people who are types of rebellious sinners who cause trouble for others.

An Adulterous Woman: This woman simply does what she does, in the same way a person would eat a meal and wipe his mouth after they finish. She is so hardened, that she feels no guilt and claims she has done no wrong. The Bible tells us that we are all sinners in need of a Savior and that we must confess our sins and ask God to forgive us; only then can we be cleansed (1 John 1:8-10).

A Servant When He Reigns: People suffer when a servant who is not trained for the office of a king obtains that position.

A Rebellious Fool When He Is Prosperous: The Hebrew word for "fool" in this verse indicates a vile, ungodly person who rejects God's Word. Only the rich in ancient times had an abundance of food; thus "filled with meat" indicates prosperity. An ungodly person uses position and money selfishly and often for evil purposes. Nabal, (1 Samuel 25:2-38) and modern-day mobsters are examples of this kind of fool.

An Odious Woman Who Marries: A bitter woman with hateful characteristics can cause much trouble and make life unpleasant for her family and others. Marriage tends to give a woman a degree of authority and respectability, increasing the pride of a woman with bad character. The Bible instructs women not to become busybodies. "And withal they learn to be idle, wandering about from house to house; and not only idle but tattlers also and busybodies, speaking things which they ought not. I will therefore that the younger women marry, bear children, guide the house, and give none occasion to the adversary to speak reproachfully. For some are already turned aside after Satan" (1 Timothy 5:13-15).

A Servant Who Is Heir To Her Mistress: There have been instances throughout history of maids persuading mistresses to make them heirs of their possessions, or servant girls who displace mistresses in the affections of their husbands. When servile, mean-spirited people come into a position of power, however slight, they are prone to become proud and use whatever advantage they can to promote themselves.

Each situation is bad enough in itself, but if all of these were true in the life of one person, it would be unbearable. If the servant who reigned was a bitter, adulterous woman, who was also a prosperous rebel and had gained her position by displacing her mistress, this would be an unbearable combination. God calls us to be holy, whatever our position or status (1 Peter 3:3-5).

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, thank you for liberating women to be what You have called them to be. Lord, may we, as women, please You first, and secondly please our husbands. Lord, may we have a submissive spirit toward our mates and seek to minister and serve them as You would. Lord, purify my heart and create a right spirit in me. May Christian marriages be an example of Your love on this earth. Deliver us from all quarreling, bitterness, and anger, and give us a meek and quiet spirit, which is, in Your sight, of great price. I ask in Jesus' name.  Amen.

From: Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ,  gatekeeperwatchman.org Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups, Friday, December 15, 2023, Jacksonville, Florida., USA.  X ... @ParkermillerQ #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller, #Eldermiller1981