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reds-skull · 2 months ago

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Bringer of Demise - Chapter 1

[MAKAROV'S FATE COMIC] [AO3]

When I say I've been thinking about this ever since finishing part 1...

I'm very excited to start a new multi-chapter story, doubly so with revenant AU! I'm not sure how long this will be, but I have a feeling it will be longer than part 1 :)

For those that skipped the side-stories, some details in this chapter refer to them, they're not a must-read to understand, but I heavily encourage it! You're also welcome to read the comic, it shows Makarov and Fate's reactions to the events of part 1...

Now, before I start rambling again... Chapter 1: The Labyrinthine Design of Fate

He always had a sort of scorching at his chest. A never-ending flame, bugs beneath his skin. As if he was burning alive.

As if he never escaped his self-made grave.

Even now, he could feel it, little legs of burning moths climbing up and down his arms, an overwhelming sensation that hasn’t left him in six years-

Except… There, a hand slides over his. Cool, a running river between his fingers. A breath of the void in a world so loud.

Soap smiles. Simon.

“Finally awake, Johnny?”

He buries his face into the pillow, hiding his growing grin. The hand continues to hold his, and that’s all the reasons he needs to continue sleeping.

“Gonna be like that, hm?” the voice hums thoughtfully, “I went to a zoo last month. Wouldn’t recommend, all they had was some dog.”

Soap frowns. He isn’t going to…

“It was a shitzu.”

He groans. “Ye didn’t…” Soap cracks open an eye, staring unimpressed at Simon’s crinkling eyes.

Simon pulls at his hand, making him sit up, “should be honored you’re waking up to my wonderful jokes.” he lets go of him, turning back to his desk. Soap notices the half-filled reports covering it.

Even several weeks later, the 141 is practically sinking under the mountain of paperwork that dropped on them as soon as they returned to the UK.

Soap flops back onto the bed, “rather be sleepin’ than hearing that shite.” Simon doesn’t give him a response, his pen gliding once again on the paper. “Is this one above my clearance as well?”

“No. Just forms to apply for changes in our Revenant documents, again.”

“You’d think they’d figure it out by now…” he turns to stare at the ceiling, an odd feeling in his chest.

The day they met… Lumity, Soap was ecstatic. It was a proof of his and Simon’s eternal connection, breaking the final barrier between them, showing that even the Reapers themselves couldn’t keep them apart.

He’s still glad of that, mind. He would never ask to be separated from Simon. But…

But it’s not something they could hide. As much as Price and Laswell cover for them, to conceal the existence of a whole new Reaper was beyond them.

It’s that uncertainty that scares him. The higher-ups haven’t done anything with them yet, the whole taskforce grounded until the dust settles, but Soap is sure it won’t pass by quietly.

When it comes to him, nothing ever does, it seems.

He turns his head to stare at Simon again. The man he was fated to kill. The way he looks when they’re like this, hidden away from the world and the realms beyond it, when they’re just Johnny and Simon, never stops to mesmerize him. He thinks, if they were perhaps a little different, maybe this would’ve been permanent.

Then again, were they any different, they’d likely be dead by now.

The question ‘why did it choose me?’ is usually screamed in his mind when phantom blood covers his hands, when the answering thought is often ‘it shouldn’t have’. Soap asks himself again, but with curiosity.

How much does Fate know?

“You’re not sleeping again, are you?” Simon asks with a smile in his voice.

Soap gets up, stretching his back, “nothin’ else better to do, is there?”

“Could always help me with reports.”

He side-eyes Simon, “like I said, nothing better to do.”

Simon scoffs, and Soap opens his mouth to goad him to another round of bickering, when a sort of buzzing goes up his spine. Simon’s shuddering back tells him he felt it as well.

“Our Reapers-” Simon locks eyes with him, when the world melts away.

When Soap comes to, the realm is dark. Cold. Words he’d never use to describe his Reaper.

Speaking of… where are they?

“S-Simon?” Soap looks around, finding him a few paces away, his head tilted up. His brows furrow, and he follows his line of sight.

Soap stumbles back, his heart pounding, “what- Buanaiche…?”

Lumity hangs above them, their body twisted, features broken by dark red. Pulled in different directions by the strings, it is as if something was trying to rip each limb apart, as if to separate… Ladder-like patterns and moths weave around the trapped being, light itself bound by crimson lines.

“What happened to you, Reaper?” Simon whispers, fear evident in his voice.

“FATE…… The invader… IT DARED ENTER OUR REALM…”

“Fate did this to you?” Soap’s eyes follow the red strings, where they disappear in the dark fog of Lumity’s realm.

Lumity’s head twitches, and gleaming white light drips from their neck. Soap asks himself, absentmindedly, if Reapers can even feel pain.

“LISTEN CLOSELY REVENANTS… Fate is plotting against us… Against your allies…”

A deafening sound cracks through the still air, making both Soap and Simon clutch at their ears. One of the strings snaps, only to loop back around one of Lumity’s many arms.

“A man with two faces will approach you… He will be an agent of Fate… YOU MUSTN’T FOLLOW HIM.”

“B-Buanaiche…” Soap winces when Lumity lets out a sound no words in any human language can describe, “what is Fate doing to you?”

“I will not bow down to it… I WILL NEVER BOW DOWN TO IT… This is nothing but a show… A petty show…”

Simon pulls at his sleeve, and takes his left hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Be vigilant, revenants… Fate is not alone…

IT IS NOT ONLY US THAT GAZE UPON YOU NOW…”

Before Soap could take another breath, Lumity’s realm swirls, and the only thing left is that which holds his hand, shaking with the same terror as him.

They collapse to the floor, Soap’s breath hitching in his throat. Simon grunts, bringing a hand to his ear to check if it’s bleeding. He looks up at him, and shakes his head minutely.

“We…” Simon starts, swallowing thickly, “we need to find Price and Gaz.”

Soap nods, pushing himself up to stand on numb legs. His mind feels like it’s pulled apart like his Reapers, thoughts forming only to dissipate.

He follows Ghost out of his barracks, his steps loud and sure, even if his fists still tremble at his sides. The hallways are silent, most soldiers out training at these hours. Ghost directs them towards the fields now, where Gaz should be supervising recruits.

As they get closer, a few of them run into the building, their faces red with exertion and heads swiveling around.

Soap spots Cooper, one of the FNGs he often trains, and calls out to him, “what’s going on with you lot? Why are ye not in drills?”

“Sergeant MacTavish! Lieutenant!” Cooper shouts, the words leaving his mouth in one hurried breath, “They- the revenants on base, they’re all-”

Another recruit butts in, “they all just stopped moving, they’re not reacting to anything!”

Ghost scoffs, pushing between the soldiers to get to the doors. The rookies snap their mouths shut, staring with wide eyes at them as they exit to the training grounds.

Soap didn’t want to believe them, hoping to dismiss their worry off when seeing it himself, but it was exactly as they said.

Most soldiers are moving, gathered around still figures. He can see Gaz from here, his face slack. The few other revenants on base, the majority of them belonging to the Reaper of Flesh, are as motionless as him.

“They’re all…” Soap mutters.

Ghost’s eyes narrow, “in their Reaper’s realm.”

“Think Fate got them too?” Soap walks towards Gaz, Ghost right behind him.

The recruits surrounding Kyle part for them, Ghost glaring at the ones that tried to shake Gaz, “no, but it can’t be a coincidence.”

Gaz stares at the horizon unblinking. The sight unnerves Soap, even if he knows he looks exactly like that when his Reaper summons him. He can’t recall if he’s ever seen a revenant in this state.

A movement catches his attention, and Soap takes a step back when Gaz’s hands start twitching, his body floating a few inches off the ground, muscles taut. One soldier from the small crowd around them asks, “i-is that normal?”

A moment later, as if an invisible cable snapped, Gaz falls to the ground, knocking the hat off his head trying to dig his fingers into his scalp.

Soap instantly crouches in front of him, noticing in his periphery how the rest of the revenants come to as well, “Gaz? Ye alright?”

Ghost snatches his hand when he goes to place it on Gaz’s shivering shoulder, and addresses Kyle, “Garrick, give me sitrep.”

Gaz shakes his head, a few muted sobs escaping him. “My… My Reaper…” he heaves, “it told me to c-choose.”

“Choose?” Soap prompts him.

“Between Fate and Lumity. Between Makarov… and you.” Kyle finally looks up, his eyes red and tearful, pupil blown, “I chose you. I would never- but my Reaper…” his face contorts, “it was… furious, or not- I don’t know-” he lets out a frustrated huff, “all I know, it wasn’t happy with my choice.”

Ghost offers Gaz a hand, and helps him up. He then turns to the rest of the recruits and snarls, “what are you standing ‘ere for? Get the fuck out of my sight!”

Their little crowd disperses like a flock of birds. Soap picks up Gaz’s baseball cap, brushing the dirt off and handing it to him, “the Reaper of Pull never did like Destruction… You think that’s what the other revenants were asked?” he asks Ghost.

Ghost lets go of Kyle, making sure he can stand by himself, “... Price knows more about how Fate operates than anyone else on base.”

Price’s thoughts leak far before his office even comes into view. They’re nothing but a jumbled mess of images and emotions, and none of them make the rising dread within Soap lessen.

Gaz hasn’t stopped shaking, his steps heavier, like he’s pushing himself towards the earth in an attempt to stay steady. They haven’t spoken a word on the way here, Ghost’s eyes darting around tensely.

Soap himself can’t make heads or tails from this. That buzzing sensation under his skin, that usually forebodes his Reaper pulling him to its realm, hasn’t left. His fingers burn brighter, flames trailing far behind him as they walk.

Ghost doesn’t bother knocking, swinging the door to Price’s office wide open and ushering Soap and Gaz inside before locking it behind them.

Soap looks at their Captain for a few moments, his head in his hands.

“... Price?” Kyle is the first to break the silence. Price lets out a shuddering sigh, and looks up.

The Captain removes his hat, gripping it tightly until his knuckles turn white, “it asked you to choose, I presume?”

Gaz nods, “Mine did, yeah, but… I don’t know about Ghost and Soap-”

“No.” Price cuts him off, tone devoid of any emotion. “Lumity isn’t in a position to ask, are they?” he studies them with narrowed eyes.

Soap stares back, feeling Price’s mind prob at his, picking apart what he saw in Lumity’s realm, what they told them. The warnings, Fate’s strings wrapping around light like spiderwebs.

“I met Makarov once, over a decade ago.” Price explains as he retreats from Soap’s thoughts, “we didn’t know it was him, at the time. But he knew we were coming.”

“He showed me what his powers can do, a fraction of his Reaper’s. In all my years, I’ve never read a mind quite like his.”

“What did you see?” Soap can’t help but ask, fear warring with curiosity. Makarov is an enigma, one they only know one thing about.

The Revenant of Fate is always several steps ahead.

Price closes his eyes, hands coming up to message his head, “he showed me my own fate. Showed me people I haven’t even met yet, dead at my feet. We were lucky, according to my Reaper, until now. Fate didn’t have much interest in Humanity.”

Something dreadful seeps into his gut, and Price doesn’t open his mouth when the next words appear in their brains.

“Now, it saw something that caught its attention.”

“IT IS NOT ONLY US THAT GAZE UPON YOU NOW”

… What have they done…?

Price fills Gaz in, about Lumity’s warning. They speak among themselves in hushed voices, debating on who could possibly be a traitor, what can be done to weed them out. Talking aimlessly, as they don’t know enough about the situation to figure anything out yet. Anything is better than the suffocating silence, though.

Soap found himself staring at the grout lines of the tiled floor, thoughts such a jumbled mess even Price stirs clear from his mind. Ghost isn’t deterred, however, and has been a constant presence by his side. As he has been, for the last few months.

Soap thinks he would’ve had an easier time accepting this if he was the one destined to die. But Ghost? He’d never regret not killing him.

It angers him, to the point he has to keep his entire focus on minimizing his flames - who gave Fate the right to decide who he kills?

How much power does Fate hold? Is it the one that decided who becomes a revenant, and who doesn’t?

If Fate can capture a Reaper, there’s no limit to what it can do to them.

Cool fingers wrap around his left hand, white fire heedless of the scarred skin. Soap looks up at Ghost, humming a question.

“Remember our promise.” is all Ghost says, and somehow that’s all Soap needs to take a mental step back, and breathe in deeply.

Soap echoes his words from weeks ago now, spoken under the warm glow of a fancy restaurant, with the same hand in his.

“Together.”

They hear a throat clearing after a few minutes, Price motioning for them to sit next to his desk.

“Before… This happened, I was planning on notifying you of something.” Price starts, his eyes locked onto Ghost’s, “Laswell and the higher-ups consulted Doctor Novikov about Lumity, and have come into the conclusion you two need to redo your revenant tests.”

Ghost scoffs, leaning back in his chair to sneer, “what is he going to tell us that we don’t already know? He didn’t know a bloody thing about Void before it merged, doubt he has any new revelations he could share with us.”

The Captain sighs heavily, and Soap gets the feeling this isn’t the first time a conversation of this sort happens between these two, “it’s part of the protocol, Simon. Or at least as much protocol that can be salvaged in your case.”

Soap leans in to half-whisper in Gaz’s ear, “ye know this… Novikov? The fuck’s he a doctor fer?”

Gaz blinks at him for a second, before reeling back, “you- you don’t know Novikov??”

“No???” Soap frowns, turning around to see Ghost and Price stopped arguing. “How do ye know him?”

“He’s been the head Spiritulogist of the SAS for the last… what was it, ten years, Price?”

“Over a decade, been here since before I was Reaped.” Price says incredulously, “I know your file’s been redacted to hell and back son, but don’t tell me you never even been through your basic revenant testing?”

Soap shakes his head, “they never sent anyone to examine me… I assumed they didn’t need to check my limits, with…” the words die on his tongue, and Price redirects his thoughts before they can go down a dark path.

“I worked with Novikov for as long as I’ve been a revenant. He’s good at what he does.” the Captain says, ignoring Ghost’s growl.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never met a Spiritulogist, mate.” Gaz gently elbows him with a small grin.

Soap sneaks another glance at Ghost, noting his stormy eyes, before answering, “I did, never about my own powers. Don’t think any o’ them had clearance.”

Ghost murmurs, “saved you several headaches.”

“Well,” Price slaps his knees, getting up from his chair, “there’s always a first for everything. Novikov got cleared by Laswell, so I assume he has enough information to assess you. He’s due to arrive at any moment, let’s take it to the tarmac.”

They follow him out of the office, Ghost walking ahead, irritation practically fuming out of him. Whatever past this Novikov has with Simon, it can’t be good. Then again, Ghost seems to dislike him more based on his profession, than the man himself.

The tarmac isn’t as hectic as it usually is. Soap attributes that to the earlier revenant incident, he personally knows at least three technicians bearing the revenant status working here. There are some gruesome ways to die dealing with aircrafts, that’s for certain. He gets reminded that of the day Gaz told him the story about his Reaping.

Soap hated the blank stare he had back then, guilt a mirror image of his own. Felt an instant connection to him, and hypocritically wanted to tell him he has nothing to be guilty of. Well, maybe not so hypocritically. Gaz would never do what he did.

The helo carrying Novikov has already started descending by the time they arrive. Ghost is a menacing shadow at his side, anger not subsiding in the short walk to here. Soap had to stop himself from asking about it multiple times. He doesn’t think he’ll get more than a grunt from Ghost at this state.

Price approaches the helo as it lands, probably greeting Novikov with his powers. When the loading ramp lowers, Soap watches a short, plump man walk down to shake hands with the Captain.

The first thing Soap clocks in from the man is that he has never been in an active war zone. There’s a lack of awareness the Doctor emanates, his focus not straying from the person in front of him, despite being surrounded by several SAS soldiers, and one very disgruntled, skull-faced revenant.

Price eventually returned to them with Novikov and several other people Soap can only assume are his assistants. Ghost steps closer to him, practically gluing himself to Soap’s side. He leans in to nudge his arm, silently asking him to relax, if only for a moment.

“Lieutenant Ghost, Sergeant Garrick, it is good to see you.” Novikov greets, Gaz reaching to shake his hand. The Doctor offers it to Ghost as well, but all the masked man does is glare at him.

Novikov seems undeterred by the Lieutenant’s hostility, and turns to Soap, “Sergeant John MacTavish,” Soap finally places his accent as Russian, “I don’t believe we’ve been acquainted yet.”

Soap shakes his right hand in the air, momentarily extinguishing its flames, before shaking the Doctor’s hand, “we haven’t.”

Novikov’s grip tightens, and he lets go of Soap’s hand, “I will be honored to be the one to test your powers for the first time, Sergeant. It is not common for revenants to skip those, as you can imagine.”

There’s an almost bitter note to his last sentence. Soap doesn’t like that he feels like Novikov has been waiting for this opportunity for a long, long time.

The words of Lumity have been etched to his heart, burned a hole in his consciousness, began a downward spiral nothing, not even the memory of Ghost’s hand in his, can stop.

Soap watches the Doctor leave, not before a promise to test them first thing in the morning, tomorrow, and he wonders.

He wonders if this, too, is part of the labyrinthine design of Fate.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod soap #cod gaz #cod price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #vladimir makarov #revenant au #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod fic #cod fanfic #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #theyre so disgustingly in love #straight into the action with this one shit hits the fan instantly #also suprise! its from soaps pov this time #if you read bloodhunger you kinda know this already #but my writing style definitely changed in the last year...#ALSO i may have mandala effect'd myself about lumity #reading back part 1 theyre called luminary?? when??? i didnt remember that at all?????#im considering going back to edit that name out bc like it shows up maybe 3 times #but if you remembered correctly than you have a better memory than i do apparently lol

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butwhatifidothis · 4 months ago

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Harassment is horrible, it's terrible mods in this Discord aren't doing anything.

But on the other hand, what about you? You harassed a person over *fanfiction* ( to the point it's the 4th tag who shows up on your blog ). Yet, all your harassment is still there out of the open. You haven't really seriously apologized, especially to them. You're still quite active on fe3h discourse while he had to remove himself from many public online space.

How is this fair?

You're rightfully upset about harassment towards members of your community, there should be *serious* amends made... But how can you hold double standards like that?

I haven't followed the discourse closely because it's so awful, why are you all so hateful? Because you just seems like one of the "bad guy" in this story along with Raxis and the other. I'm not saying you're the same, but you're not really better than those you criticize either, and the same apply for the other blog who participed in your harassment... It's just horrible all around. You're all drowning in a cesspool of toxicity and it's making you all worst people than you actually are.

I hope you, and people around you, will at least receive amend over the harm caused to them. I hope you stop receiving troll, death threat and any other type of hate message you probably still receive. But I hope you'll sincerely recognize your faults and fully amend to them too.

Look, I know you probably mean some kind of well and that you likely spent a long time thinking over this message, so I'm going to lay it out as simply as I can:

I have never once interacted with Cap'n himself, and I have repeatedly told anyone reading my posts to do the same. This is unlike the people who have harassed me and others, who went out of their way to make sure we saw what they were saying about us. This includes publicly admitting to using alts to go around our blocks of them so that they can keep interacting with us directly

Very quickly into critiquing Cap'n's work, a primary focus became pointing out the problematic rhetoric he was spreading with his incredibly influential, incredibly popular fanfic. This includes the justification of holding racist rhetoric, the anti-miscegenation rhetoric, the infantilization of women, the demonization of men, the justification of imperialism, and more, all which appear very quickly into the story and stay prominent throughout the story. The people who have harassed me and others, meanwhile, either deny this rhetoric exists in their circles or outright hold this rhetoric themselves. This includes the use and defense of genocide apologetics.

This post is the first time I have talked about Cap'n in over a year, and the last time I posted any notes on his fic was over a year and a half ago. This is unlike the people who have harassed me and others, who have engaged in harassing behaviors as recently as this week (as of Aug 18 2024).

It has been explicitly said by those close to Cap'n that my notes, while upsetting him, had no part in him leaning away from social media more, unlike what you say here. This is unlike the people who have harassed me and others, who have driven off multiple people from social media and have openly patted themselves on the back for doing so, justifying their harassment by saying the people they've harassed off social media deserved it.

I have kept my critiques strictly on this Tumblr, as have most of the people who have talked about Cap'n's fic. This is unlike the people who have harassed me and others, who have spread their harassment on places such as Twitter, Reddit, and TVTropes.

I have refrained from ever accusing Cap'n of ever holding any bigoted views himself, and have made it a repeated point to say that his problematic writing is far more likely due to ignorance of the subjects involved rather than outright malice. This is unlike the people who have harassed me and others, who have accused many of us as people of being sexist, racist, homophobic, etc. based off of nothing. This includes accusing at least one of us of actual crimes against actual people with no proof and on multiple sites such as the popular and public Edelgard Discord and on Reddit.

People who said they were in contact with Cap'n (as in, mods of the Discord server that Cap'n was once in, the same server that has the mod that uses genocide apologetics) have been told that I was willing to remove parts of my notes that he found too attacking or harsh, and they've been told that I would outright remove all of my posts regarding Cap'n period if he would talk to me directly and we could discuss the implications and rhetoric he had accidentally written into his story. While I do understand him not wanting to do the latter (as it involves directly talking to me), he hadn't even done the former (which does not involve directly talking to me and only involves relaying messages through his friends). And with all of the above on top of that, it gives me the impression that he feels less like "this person is harassing me and that is giving my anxiety" and more "this person is critiquing me and I don't like that." While he has every right to feel the latter, we aren't going to sit here and say that's the same as the former.

So, nonnie, to answer why I am "hateful," as you put it: I don't like stories that unironically say being two races mean you don't belong to either race being influential in a fandom, as a mixed-race woman. I don't like stories that have characters of color only be used as props for the author's favorite little white girl to be influential in fandom, as a person of color. I don't like stories saying that women just want to go back to being innocent pure little girls and not be the wilted tainted flowers they are now to be influential in a fandom, as a woman. I don't like stories that lay the blame of all the world's suffering on the shoulders of a race of people who've barely survived a genocide to be influential in a fandom, as a person with a modicum of knowledge on where that rhetoric inevitably leads to. I don't like stories saying that men who don't bow down to women will almost certainly become rapist pigs or otherwise terrorizing monsters to be influential in a fandom, as someone who rejects sexism of all forms. I don't like stories that liken the violent conquests of imperialism to the blooming of flowers, or that say that imperialism is the only way for the "good" culture to help everyone - actual, genuine rhetoric used to justify actual, genuine imperialism - to be influential in a fandom, as someone who has read any history book ever.

And I don't like how all of this and more have clearly been normalized in big 3H fandom circles and how this has led to multiple people getting harassed, in no small part due to Cap'n's influence on the fandom at large.

I'm sorry if Cap'n doesn't like me pointing out the bigotry he had engraved throughout his story, and I'm sorry if I'm not going to be convinced that me doing that is the same as people's deliberate and long-standing attempts to chase people out of the fandom for saying they don't like Edelgard in the one way they allow anyone to like her, and I'm sorry that me calling out the racism people are engaging in and are hiding behind the shield of "discourse" seems to bother you so much, but I think I've explained why I'm not exactly that sorry well enough. Hope this answers your question <3

#ask #anon #o captain my captain #literally the last time i used that <- tag was in Feb 2023 #and frankly given the shit Cap'n continued to write in his fic after Chapter 60 that's fucking saintly of me #anyway. to be clear; my critiquing Cap'n's fic and only Cap'n's fic for the bigoted shit he wrote in it #is not the same as Raxis harassing someone off of Tumblr for saying the wrong Lambert and Sitri opinions #or him cropping out people's messages to make it look like they said shit they never said to drum up harassment against them #or dolphin going to a Jewish woman's post and ''''''''joking'''''''' about genocide and race supremacy #or her accusing someone else of being a rapist and groomer on random Reddit posts and in a huge public Discord server #sorry for the snippy tone it's just this ignorant message is somewhat annoying ngl #not to be rude nonnie but you can't say you don't know much about what's been going on #and then make these definitive statements as though you DO know what's been going on #like you can call my notes gauche or uncalled for or whatever I don't give a shit #but it'll be a cold day in hell before I sit here and nod along with the idea of it being ''no better than'' this shit

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