#firefly(cod oc)

[ask-sgtcrow]

(ANSWER THIS WHENEVER!!!! dont feel like u gotta do it rn enjoy your trip!!)

There’s a quick succession of knocks on Crow’s door before Ryker’s head peeks in. “Ay. Still up f’r a few rounds t’night?”

- @ask-fireflycod

crow is already ready and already grinning brightly at the door when ryker shows up. he moves to the door with the jingle of his usual civvie clothes’ belt chains accompanying him.

“course i am,” he hums, barely remembering to grab his wallet before leaving his room. “‘a few’ rounds are a bit generous though… seeing as i doubt you’ll make it past my starter pints.”

((WAHH HII!!! i did enjoy my trip i think :)) ))

[insomniacsystem]

Because I'm in a Shadow Company brainrot mood here's all our OC's/alters bios at least with what were so far willing to share cause anxiety.

Name: Rhys 'Azrael' Grey

Callsign: Shadow 6-1 (based on his SAS callsign Bravo 6-1)

Rank: Captain (promoted)

Race: Native American(Navajo)/Irish

Height: 5'6

Age: 34

Gender: transgender male

Pronouns: He/They

Desc: Azrael is an ex SAS soldier at one point ending up a POW on a classified mission losing multiple members of the squad he was leading along with his fiance that had joined him on the team. After almost a decade of service multiple of his medical issues from childhood were finally diagnosed leaving him with a medical discharge and Azrael being the person he is definitely doesn't accept that as the end of his military career applying to Shadow Company intent on proving his abilities and keeping up his work.

Azrael is almost always found wearing as much covering clothing as possible almost never found without his neck gaiter on to cover the scars that mar the skin on his face and neck a painful reminder of captivity he's determined to keep hidden.(Though Graves and the other Shadows eventually coax him into opening up and wearing it less often)

Personality: Azrael is known for being extremely closed off keeping strong walls around himself to keep others out and away from his emotions and vulnerabilities. it's a major surprise to most to find that his old friends describe younger Azrael from before he was captured as cheery, sweet, and, extremely empathetic many don't exactly believe it considering most see him as cold and unfeeling, even if he does truly care for those around him just from behind his walls where he believes himself to be safer.

Name: Ashton 'Phoenix' Adair

Callsign: Shadow 7-5

Rank: Sergeant

Race: Scottish

Height: 6'5

Age: 33

Gender: Cis Male

Pronouns: He/They

Desc: Ashton is another ex-SAS soldier, having ended up a POW on the same mission as his ex-fiance Azrael, ending in them breaking up shortly after their release as guilt tears away at him, feeling he should have been able to protect his fiance and squad. It's not long before Ashton gets himself into trouble as he goes after the men responsible for him and Azrael's suffering leaving him on the run hiding from certain Russian extremists.

Ashton, with the help of a friend in high places, fakes his death, disappearing to work with Shadow Company on American soil where he's less likely to be discovered, and he still has opportunities to take out the men he's been searching for.

Personality: Ashton is known for being fiery, confident, and extroverted, often found chatting with the other shadows, happily helping out with what he can where he can without complaint.

Name: Vance 'V' Serra

Callsign: Shadow 0-2

Rank: Captain

Race: Mexican/Hispanic

Height: 6'7

Age: 33

Gender: Cis Male

Pronouns: He/They

Desc: Vance is and ex-Marine and has been close friends with Graves since they met encouraging the older man the entire way through starting Shadow Company despite his own contract with the Marines not exactly being up yet he waits out the time separated cheering his friend in from afar until finally he's able to resign immediately transferring himself to work with Graves once again become his right hand man.

All goes well for Vance for the most part the shadows do their jobs damn well and he's endlessly proud of his and Graves' men he's expecting things to go as usual as he's sent out in the convoy with the missiles only to find himself very wrong watching as his men are slaughtered he plays dead knowing damn well they have him outnumbered he's determined to make it back to Graves he waits out the soldiers as they collect the missiles keeping still even as the fire in the car licks at his skin immediately putting himself out and scrambling for a radio as the sounds of cars fade out he finds himself lucky as he's able to contact Graves ULF being able to send a small rescue team despite Shepards refusal to attempt proper rescue saving Vance's life leaving him in the hospital to recover during Las Almas returning to work as soon as he's cleared

Personality: Vance is known for being fiercely loyal to Shadow Company it's commander especially taking care of Graves and the shadows diligently making sure everyone is taken care of and not neglecting themselves his usual calm but happy demeanor soothing to those around him though that's definitely not saying he's not short tempered especially when it comes to defending Graves though the shadows often tease him for it prodding the man about having a crush despite Vance vehemently denying it.

Name: Emris 'Firefly' Hendricks

Callsign: Shadow 7-7

Rank: Sergeant

Race: Native American

Height: 5'7

Age: 32

Gender: Trans male

Pronouns: He/They

Desc: Emris is Shadow Company's most well-known demolitionist, always managing to find himself in trouble for some kind of energetic hijinks, often getting other shadows involved and getting slightly carried away. Emris is usually one of the many shadows messing with Graves in the most wholesome way possible, planting joke motivational posters of Graves and things, much to Graves' embarrassment, though he secretly finds it hilarious the shadows seem to love the posters and things so much.

Name: Arlo 'Icarus' Lyons

Callsign: Shadow 1-3

Rank: lieutenant

Race: American/Irish

Height: 6'5

Age: 28

Gender: Nonbinary (AFAB I swear that's important)

Pronouns: He/They/She

Desc: Arlo joined up with Shadow Company through interesting circumstances one of the few recruits trained by Shadow Company itself rather than coming from another military. Arlo is extremely dedicated to his work and loyal to Graves. the two had gotten along well since he joined Shadow company, though only a few years into his time with them through what he'd thought were harmless hookups to blow off steam, they had managed to get pregnant despite their infertility, despite the bad timing and circumstances, Arlo is understandably ecstatic having wanted kids of his own. though, due to the high-risk nature of her pregnancy, Arlo finds themselves on bed rest though Graves refuses to let him be alone considering, Arlo is single with no family, leaving him and Vance insistant on helping out and make sure he's cared for. he ends up having his daughter, Evie, with only mino8 complications, being age 8 as of the events of MW2 and 11 as of MW3.

Arlo does eventually defect from Shadow Company, joining up for 141 after the events of Las Almas. Despite the guilt he feels abandoning Graves, the young man couldn't cope with continuing to work with them, afraid of events like Las Almas repeating.

Personality: Arlo is known for being extremely sweet and charismatic keeping things running smoothly and arguments to a minimum at least to the best of his ability.

(wip)

Name: Callum Lucian

K9:Umbra (a black Belgian Malinois) (pup pic wip)

Callsign: Ace (0-13)

Rank: Sergeant

Race: American

Height: 5'8

Age:25

Gender: Trans Male

Pronouns: He\They

Desc: Callum is one of Shadow Company's resident K9 handlers. While Callum occasionally uses crutches, his cane, and braces between missions during flare-ups, and to allow his old injuries and chronic pain to settle, he is still incredibly capable in the field. having refused to let his back and knee injury stop him from serving, he joined SC once he'd healed shortly after his original discharge from the military, bringing his K9 along with him as they'd been retired together due to Umbra's strong attachment to Callum.

Personality:

Name: Warren 'Rune' Rivera

Callsign: Shadow 8-8

Rank: Lieutenant

Specialization: K9's

K9's: Nixie (Shepherd) and Nico (black Shepherd)

Race:White

Birthplace: USA/Tennessee

Height: 6'3

Age:35

Birthday: March 5th 1989

Gender:Male

Pronouns:He/they

Medical conditions: left leg amputated just below the knee hearing loss in left ear.

Desc:

Personality:

Name: Maeve 'Artemis' Grey

Callsign: Shadow 0-7

Rank: Lieutenant

Gender: Female

Pronouns:She/They

Age:29

Height: 6'1

Birthplace: Ireland

Race: Irish & (unknown)

Sexuality: Panromantic Greyromantic Asexual

Specialty:

Medical conditions: POTS ADHD Autism

Desc: backstory is still in the works but for now she's a new transfer from the SAS and Azrael's adoptive sister.

Mae is the result of a still secret affair her mother had, which has led to much resentment on her father's part. She, by now, is very aware she's not his biological daughter, but her mother still refuses to give her any information on her real dad, insisting on keeping their family's reputation spotless as usual.

Maeve, the youngest of all her siblings, grew up being taught to resent Azrael, being taught various horrible mindsets by her extremely religious family. For most of that time, she believed them, though as time went on, watching her older adoptive brother be abused so horribly chipped away at her. Her guilt only grew when Azrael ran away at 17 after being outed as trans, leaving her to reevaluate her parent's teachings. One could imagine the feeling of fear she felt when she found she'd started to crush on another girl at 16.

Maeve quickly realized she didn't want to live at home anymore and managed to forge he parents' signature, signing up for the British armed forces at 16, unknowingly following in Azrael's footsteps.

Personality:

Name: Adian 'Apollo' Grey

Callsign: 7-0

Rank: Lieutenant

Gender: Transmale

Pronouns:He/They

Age:29

Birthday: April 8th

Height: 5'10

Blood type: O+

Birthplace: Ireland

Race: Irish & (unknown)

Sexuality: Pansexual Aromatic

Religion: Pagan

Specialty: espionage

Medical conditions: POTS ADHD PTSD(childhood trauma) Autism Asthma Chronic pain from repeated injuries to his spine and ribs in his childhood.

Desc: backstory is still in the works

Aidan and Maeve are the result of a still "secret" affair their mother had, which has led to much resentment on their father's part. They, by now, are very aware they're not his biological children, but their mother still refuses to give them any information on their real dad, insisting on keeping their family's reputation spotless as she usually always has.

Aidan, the youngest of all their siblings aside from his twin sister. Maeve, grew up being taught to resent Azrael, being taught various horrible mindsets by his extremely religious family. For most of that time, he believed them, though as time went on, watching his older adoptive brother be abused so horribly chipped away at him. His guilt only grew when Azrael ran away at 17 after being outed as trans, leaving the twins to reevaluate their parent's teachings. One could imagine the feeling of fear Aidan must have felt already knowing he was trans like his older brother since he was young ~~hence Azrael's nickname for him Apollo~~.

The twins quickly realized they didn't want to live at home anymore and managed to forge their parents' signature, signing up for the British armed forces at 16, both unknowingly following in Azrael's footsteps.

Personality:

~~ok last one fr this time I swear dbdb~~

[ask-sgtcrow]

i mean… you gotta respect the grind

wish i could pull off the “ominous fucker” thing as well as he does

Someone needs t’ tell Lieutenant Riley some fockin’ high vis gear at night ‘round base.

I’m tired of goin’ to th’ bathroom only t’ get the shite scared out of me ‘cause fockin skull head decides he’s gotta be like batman.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Chapter 8 - Blow the House Down

[Also Available on AO3]

Shadow Dance Masterlist

Summary: The remaining members of the 141 stage a prison break to free Soap, Ghost, and Los Vaqueros from being "detained" by Graves and Shadow Co.

Warnings/Tags: Minors DNI, swearing, character with trauma, established relationship, military inaccuracies, canon-typical violence, includes some in-game dialogue

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC - 3rd person POV (Rory Sinclair)

Word count: 4.1 K

A/N: the further continuation of Rory's story, this follows and expands upon the COD: MW2 reboot canon. Told from Rory's POV

November 3, 2022 04:57 - Las Almas, Mexico

The hazy gray of dawn slowly began to lighten the sky, yet the golden gleam of the sun remained absent. Cloud cover built overnight acting as the fuel to be burned away in the tinder box of morning radiance. 

From the depths of the receding darkness of the night, the purring engines of two white vans raced down a dirt road, flood lights shining a path towards the exfil point, scorching a hole through the bleak black around them. Skidding to a halt just outside the prison walls, the desert’s powdery sand scattered up behind them and drifted down past the headlights, caught in the rays of the high beams as they parked beside an abandoned vehicle. A chorus of gunfire in the distance greeted them as bullets sliced indiscriminately through the air. Thunder claps of ammunition exiting the chamber rolled over the vast landscape of rocks, cacti, and wild grass, echoing out and silencing the cries of coyotes and the calls of owls. 

Three figures in shadow exited the vehicles, heading towards the prison walls. Their heads on a swivel, eyes peeled for possible enemy activity as they scurried towards their point of access. It seemed as though Shadow Co. was being kept busy, and considering the other vehicle left to the side, someone else must have taken it upon themselves to stage a coup against Graves, an attempt at cutting the head off the snake, one that acted as the perfect distraction for the other members of the 141.

Price’s strides were long and purposeful as he led the way into danger, relaying the rules of engagement to the two soldiers in his wake before they started for the top of the wall. “Expect heavy enemy fire. Take only the shots you need,” he said with a quick glance over his shoulder at Rory, his eyes sharp. “We’re here to get our people out, not clear the zone – this is an extraction, not an offensive.” 

With ropes and ascenders in tow, they made their way up to the top of the wall of the fortress of a prison. Watchtowers stood guard to their left and right, overlooking the prison yard of weathered cement and weeds prying their way through the cracks, sprouting into overgrown shrubs. Below, the distant flashes of muzzle flares glimmered across the ground like fireflies dancing at dusk, burning motes of light traveling in the gloom of the coming morning. 

Bonfire Night had come early, and they had arrived just in time to enter the fray. 

Taking position behind the barrier of concrete, Rory lowered to a kneeling position, placing her rifle on the cover wall. Searching through her scope, she caught sight of the white bone of Ghost’s mask as he, Soap, and the members of Los Vaqueros fought their way through the Shadow Company resistance against them. “We’ve got friendlies coming from our one o’clock,” she called out.

“I see ‘em,” Gaz confirmed while scanning the battle zone below. “They’ve got company.”

Enemy combatants waited for them, scattered throughout the field that the escapees would be forced to cut through. Enough bodies to make it a problem.

Taking a steadying breath, Rory tapped her practiced finger against the trigger and the bullet collided with the back of a Shadow’s thigh while hiding behind cover. A pained groan carried across the expanse of open asphalt, his reaction leaving him open to another rear assault. Without wasting a moment as he dropped, unphased by the quiet tinkling of her bullet casing dancing across the ground, she lined up the angle and with a precision hit, cleared the x-ray from the route.

“Keep that up, Ror,” Price barked approvingly. “I want that route kept clear.”

With a nod, she returned to the comfort of her scope. But that old, reliable feeling of the weight of a weapon in her hands didn’t last long as the low hum of rotors coming to life alerted the group to the appearance of a helicopter heralded by their arrival. 

Soaring overhead – all black, predatory – hunting them down, it swooped in low. The searchlight washed them in bright, white light, stinging their eyes while hair and clothing whipped violently against them under the current blasted from rapidly spinning blades.  

“Focus on that field, Lieutenant,” Price commanded in a hoarse bark, raising his voice above the sound of the aircraft to be heard. The brim of his boonie hat fluttered and flapped as he readied his weapon, tucking it tight against him and taking aim. “Gaz and I’ve got the bird.”

There were times when she could tune out the whole world while staring down her rifle, a reprieve from the continuous noise of her head that she had learned to get along with. Finding the calming point of peace as everything else blurred into white noise. This, however, was not one of those times. The controlled chaos that ensued only increased their chances of success, Shadow Co. were caught with their pants down and they were all too happy to take advantage of that. 

Streaks of fire shot out towards the enemy helicopter from the field opposite them, burning comets in the sky of hot lead ricocheting off the fuselage, sparking against the metal and pinpointing the exact location of their allied forces. Joining forces with the concentrated bullet spray of Gaz and Price’s weapons – the combined weight of heavy fire still wasn’t enough to bring it down.

The loud pinging in Rory’s ears of bullets not quite making their mark caused her to squint, gritting her teeth while reacting to something akin to nails on a chalkboard. A high pitched screech that pinched at the very nerves in her gums, sending shivers to course up her spine and lock her ligaments. Clearing her head with a sharp intake of breath, her lungs holding just to the edge of aching, she once more fired out into the black abyss below and was met with another cry of agony.

“All stations, this is Bravo-6,” Price shouted his orders over the radio, his low growl carrying over the prison barracks walls. “Get down!”

A grenade lobbed into the hovering chopper and the resulting explosion finally caused it to lose control, the fire spreading through the cockpit and flooding the interior like a sinking ship. Crashing into a nearby wall, swallowed up in a giant cloud of smoke and flame, the stench of fuel rose up into the air along with the thick, black fumes that darkened the sky once more. 

“All Bravo and Vaqueros… Top o’ the wall. Get here and I’ll get you out. How copy?”

“Loud and clear, Price. Comin’ to ya…!” 

Ghost’s gravelly voice responding over the comms had her breathing a small sigh of relief. They weren’t anywhere near to being in the free and clear, but it was a small concession she would keep a tight grasp of.

The glint of a green flare sparking to life caught out of the corner of Rory’s eye as Price tossed it down to the ground below, grabbing the attention of their team. The caustic, potent stench of burnt rubber spewing forth as the gas burned off to light the way, mingling with that of the wreckage in the corner – the fiery mass of metal like a solar flare in her scope. 

“Be advised, ropes deployed. Find ‘em and climb.”

“Roger, that.”

The friction squeal of Soap and Ghost’s ascenders on the ropes grew louder as the braided nylon became taut, the two men rising to the top of the wall, vulnerable while Shadow continued firing off potshots towards them. 

Her rifle continued in a rapid succession of percussive bangs as bodies dropped like crumpling ragdolls around the field, sacks of meat and marrow made obsolete with a bullet. Lives taken all in service of keeping her team alive and well. It was a common thing for her not to feel much remorse while taking on the enemy, having learned to ignore that voice in her head repulsed by the thought of killing, teaching herself to see it as inconsequential. Calcification of her conscience. Her or them. But in this case, knowing these were traitors – even if simply following orders like she did – made it all the more simple to shred them with each perfectly positioned shot. As the enemy popped out of cover, it became a game of whack-a-mole, a carnival shooting gallery of targets. Easy picking. Her heart rate maintained at a steady beat as rescue efforts went on around her, letting it all fade into the background, a muted distraction. Take aim, take a deep breath, hold, and then fire. 

The first heavy tactical boot made contact with the edge of the wall with the rough scuff of sole on weathered cement, and the breeze ruffled through the dark fluff of Soap’s mohawk as he reached the heights at the peak of the wall, the rough leather of his gloved hand reaching out to meet Price’s as he was pulled up. Flood lamps above cut sharp streaks of fluorescent light over the sergeant’s face, showing off the weary lines etched around his eyes. His gear stained with blood, it was clear Shadow hadn’t made things easy. 

“Sergeant MacTavish,” John greeted, voice hoarse and rasping like steel wool. His hand rested on Soap’s shoulder, giving one of his trademark pats – ever the handler to his pack of unruly mutts. 

“Good to see you, Captain.”

Soap’s Scottish brogue was an oddly comforting sound after everything that had come to light with Shepherd and Graves, and hearing it, even over her shoulder as Rory continued to fire, made any worries about him and Ghost being in danger instantly fade, settling whatever nerves were hidden under the mask of calm control. 

She rose, rifle in hand, and rested her foot on the wall, the small chunks of chipped away cement crumbling under her foot. Glancing away from her scope for a moment, she tipped her head to the side and made visual contact with the big, blue puppy eyes of MacTavish. “Good to see you in one piece, sergeant.”

A wry grin curled the Scot’s lips, tipping his head eastward. “Ah, ‘the missus’. Thought y’ were supposed t’ be in North Africa, Lamb?”

She hummed, adjusting the rifle in her arms. “Heard your arse needed saving.” Returning to her duty, she changed the angle of her fire, focusing on shorter range, and picked off the Shadows who had closed in around the escaping soldiers. Her bullets buzzed past members of the Los Vaqueros, skillfully missing them, even in tight confines as they lined up to get to the ropes dangling over the edge of the prison wall. 

Shadow forces under fire retreated to the safety of walls, towers, and roofs – Cockroaches, she thought with a sneer, the lot of them. Men and women that were hand selected by Graves himself. Knowing the sort of man he was made her question just what these soldiers were willing to do, what lines they might straddle, others they might cross, and it all made something inside her tense. It took a certain type of person to become a PMC, to pull away from the rigidity of governed rules, the type of person who wanted to make their own. Breaking free of the structure, the form…

Given pause for a moment, her stomach clenched, that quiet voice in the back of her head a timid whisper about whether she was any different at all. She had gone in with good intentions, but that had paved the way to hell. All too aware of what she was capable of, handpicked by Price, willing to forgo the usual channels to complete a mission–

The brief moment of reflection under a starry sky and with bloodshed down below was quickly swallowed back down. Sometimes it was best not to think on those sorts of things.

The next boot met their position with a heavy thud, the weight of a walking fridge behind it, as a long leg swung over the barrier. Rifle hugged tight to his chest, the same way Rory held hers, Ghost scanned their surroundings from on high, dark eyes behind the mask penetrating the gloom below, quietly observing, meeting Gaz’s greeting with a curt nod.

“Garrick. Price.” Ghost’s attention lowered on Rory’s back as she maintained cover fire. “Nice shootin’, Sinclair.” 

“I do my best,” she muttered while taking out another Shadow with a clean shot to the chest. Soap looked between Price, Gaz, and Rory still laying down fire, a hint of confusion in the lines of his brow and around his eyes as he caught his breath. “How’d you know?” “Laswell,” Gaz replied. “Soon as Shepherd went dark, she called us.”

“Laswell, still solid as a rock,” Ghost said, the usual stoicism giving way to a hint of pride hidden behind the handsewn skeletal visage.

As the squad caught up, the Vaqueros began their ascension, beginning with – who Rory assumed was the leader – a grim looking man, his stubbly jaw clenched tight, eyes burning with fire. The sting of betrayal and the need for revenge after being imprisoned by a former ally cut into every sharp edge of his features. 

Soap, seemingly friendly with the man, gave the introductions. “Colonel Vargas, meet Captain Price, Lieutenant Sinclair, and Sergeant Garrick.”

“Thanks for the assist –” Vargas glanced over his shoulder at the sound of yet another shot going off and the cry of pain that followed it reaching his ears, studying Rory for a moment, brow cocking as he watched her catch stray Shadows and keep his men alive. “Suppose you’ve been the one keeping my men under cover fire, huh?”

She pulled back from her scope, releasing the extractor as another casing fell to the ground and chimed softly at her feet. “Suppose so.”

A half grin curled his lips, showing off sparkling teeth. “I’m impressed,” Vargas said, nodding his head. “You’re one hell of a marksman, Señora.”

“Guess that’s why the Captain keeps me around,” she said with a smirk, flipping the wave of hair that fell in front of her eyes back, and glancing past Alejandro’s shoulder at Price, holding his stare until he dragged his tempest gaze away from her, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smirk curling the corner of his mouth.

“Well, perhaps I could assist,” Alejandro said, immediately getting into position beside her and helping to lay cover fire down for his men against Shadow Company. “Cheers,” she said with a grin that had yet to fade from her face. “Happy for it.”

There were still at least a dozen men below that needed to climb, moving targets for the Shadow forces to take aim at, while the others remained corralled together. Fish in a barrel. Her hand tightened its grip on her weapon, holding it steady against her as she observed the muzzle flares flashing like fireworks before the sound of the gunshots met them. No longer facing singular guards and scouts, there were now roving packs to contend with.  Armored vehicles. Snipers. 

“Gaz, Soap, Ghost – Overwatch – Now!” Price commanded.

A storm of lightning and thunder held contained within prison barracks rained down. Pot shots taken at the wall sent dust and debris falling like hail into the faces of the men trying to climb to safety. Chaos swirled and explosions rang out as soon as Soap got his hands on a grenade launcher, nearly vibrating with excitement over the newfound artillery power. 

The ground shook, rumbling up below their feet as the tectonics of the battlefield shifted, becoming aggravated, an open wound. For everything Shadow threw at them, they met it in kind, holding them off. 

“Got snipers on the roof.” Price growled. “Take ‘em out, Ror.”

“My pleasure.”

Her rifle swung to the left, taking into account the new wind speed and direction as it breezed over the peaks of her cheeks and tousled the loose waves of her hair. Lining up her shot, crosshairs set, eyes narrowed, seconds felt like hours as she listened to the steady rhythm of the beat of blood in her ears – like holding a shell and hearing the ocean. Her gloved finger whispered over the metal of the trigger, and with a sharp breath sucked between gritted teeth, the air was punched from the enemy sniper’s lungs, their life taken in the blink of an eye. 

The wall they had claimed steadily filled with escapees, and once the last man had reached the top, Price pulled back from his firing position. It was time to pull out. This wasn’t the war, it was just a staging area, one that let them see the enemy in action, spot their weaknesses and plan how to use it against them. 

Pointing out the ropes they had entered with, Price barked out his orders, “Down the wall. We are leaving!” 

Repelling down with ease, soldiers streamed over the wall to freedom on the other side. One after another, boots hit the sand, weapons kept at the ready. Until the prison was out of sight, they weren’t clear of danger. 

In the distance, the sky had become a deep indigo blue with the coming morning as a sliver of orange cut across the horizon line. Fire in the sky stretching out, slowly climbing above the mountain ridge. Each fine, tensile ray like the sharp edge of a blade slicing through the darkness that blanketed the land.

Soldiers lined up, waiting at the bottom of the wall for the Captain to arrive – always the first into a foxhole and the last to leave – it was just one of the many things that he did that commanded the respect of his team. The reminder that there were still those that held some sort of honor in a world full of liars, cheaters, and traitors. People desperate for strength, power… control. Things that seemed to seep from Price’s very pores, exuding from him – a born leader. They trusted him to have their backs, to not leave them behind and he had never failed in that duty.

Uncoupling himself from the rope upon making landfall, Price’s heavy brow furrowed as he looked out towards the horizon. With a command, the group split into two, retreating into the safe confines of the vehicles there to extract them with the same rush as a holiday crowd through an airport. 

Climbing into the passenger seat up front, Rory took her spot beside Gaz behind the wheel. The vehicle rumbled forward, his hands steady at ten and two, following Alejandro in the other van as they were led to safe harbor where they could amass for the next front. The mission had become more than just a search for missiles – another end of the western world threat – the lives of their own had been made into fodder so others didn’t have to face the consequences.

Glancing over at Garrick, the rising streak of sunbeam blazed like a molten core amongst umber as he watched the road ahead, the fierceness having grown behind his eyes since the first time she had met him. His stare was now as focused and piercing as the Captain’s. Coming into his own, it was a remarkable thing to witness. He was as much a soldier as the rest of them were, the war they were about to face just as personal to him. 

Tight jaws, scowls, and narrowed eyes abounded in the vehicle. The electric buzz of anger rolling like a charged current around them. Would have been easier if they just came clean to start with, if they hadn’t been sent on a wild goose chase, she thought, eyes fixed on the rear lights of the vehicle in front of them. Tidying messes was something she had gotten used to in her career – the dustpan and broom of colonial powers – but it was the sheer hubris behind Shepherd’s actions that annoyed her most. A man who had grown far too used to thinking himself above it all, the untouchable, as if the law and truth held no sway over him. That he was incapable of being punished for the things he felt he had a right to do because he was under some false impression he knew what was best. 

A reflexive twitch shot through her, fingers curling into a fist on the armrest of her seat. She had come face to face with men like that before, seen the monstrous things they were capable of. Men who deemed themselves worthy of the power they had amassed. Violent means were an easy tool for them to cling to, the lives of others meant little in the path of their own personal crusade. For greed, for dominance… for trying to do a little good in a world of bad. Her eyes lifted to the rear-view mirror and landed on the back of John’s head before meeting her own reflection glancing back at her. 

Fuck, need a cigarette. Anything to ignore the hypocrisy that swirled in her thoughts, jaws of razor sharp teeth that lay in wait, ones she still tried to pretend weren’t there despite claiming the opposite. 

“Shepherd burned us.” 

Ghost’s rasping voice filled the back of the van, contempt rife in every word, drawing her back into the here and now, tearing her from the inside of her head before she was dragged down into the bog of things she buried deep. 

“He sent Graves and his Shadows to kill us and round up Los Vaqueros.”

“We know why.”

“The missiles,” Rory started, filling in the void Price had left behind, looking back over her shoulder at the two hulking squad mates they had just saved. “The ones you found. They weren’t supposed to be out in the wild. It was a mistake. One Shepherd and Graves are both at fault for. You lads and Los Vaqueros just happened to be the unlucky recipients of their efforts at trying to bury it.”

“Bury it?” Soap snarled, dark brows knitting with the deep set furrow between them. 

She nodded, her eyes flitting to Price, noting the rigid lines of his shoulders. He was stewing in silent rage. She could only imagine the thoughts brewing behind the eyes that gave nothing away, a placid surface hiding jagged points of ice and cruel riptides. “And you weren’t the only ones,” she added, glancing over at Soap. “You were right about how I should still have been in Africa. The mission I’d been on, the one to collect Botha, ties right back into this. Hassan had come to him first to transport the missiles to America. Had information that could have saved us a lot of trouble.” Rory turned back to face the road they drove on, her voice a low murmur of regret, “He ended up dead because of it.”

“Steamin’ Jesus. What the hell is Shepherd doin’?”

“He’s like most at the top, Johnny.” Ghost sat stiff against his seat, his mass locked down and only his head on a swivel. “Ready to drop ya at a moment’s notice t’ keep ‘imself in power.”

If Shepherd thought this was the best course of action to clean up his mistake, he had been dead wrong. He’d only gone and made things impossible for himself, gaining the ire of a whole squad of soldiers who had done all manner of questionable things in their careers in order to meet the successful end of a mission. A foolish thing, indeed. It wasn’t like they hadn’t all come with their own reputations when he had backed the creation of the taskforce. A captain who had been sent into brutal conflicts all over the planet, making the tough decisions no one else wanted to, ruthless in his endeavors, a man only an absolute numpty would want to make an enemy of. Two lieutenants who had both been through their own versions of hell, facing torture and pain, who knew what was necessary to survive at all costs. And two sergeants, while young, full of piss and vinegar, and not yet quite as cynical as their veteran leaders, were treading the same path into the bowels of the dark parts of the world few others ever saw. 

Shepherd was in for one hell of a reckoning.

“That’s why we’re going to take him and Graves out of the picture,” Price husked, his head angling sharply to the side. “Get rid of a problem before it gets worse.” His glare darkened, the cold machine of a soldier ever present in those bottomless steely blue eyes. “Then we focus on Hassan.”

[ask-staffsgt-sullivan]

╔══════╗

RONAN ‘FIREFLY’ SULLIVAN - STAFF SERGEANT

╚══════╝

➼ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ | ᴛᴏʏʜᴏᴜ.ꜱᴇ | @ask-staffsgt-sullivan

‘ take my hands off your neck and hold onto the ghost of your body. ’

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

NAME: Ronan Kieran Sullivan

AGE / D.O.B: 31 years old ✦ October 30th, 1994

SEX: AFAB - Transmasc (He/Him)

SEXUALITY: Homosexual

P.O.B: Killarney, Ireland ✦ Moved to Westport when he was 25

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ:

➼ 5’10in (177.80cm) ✦ 190 pds (86.183 kilos)

➼ Lean muscle; lanky. Has a very irritated look on his face 90% of the time.

➼ Tanned and freckled skin - very scarred. Auburn hair that’s buzzed on both sides and longer in the back (held in a ponytail). Green eyes. Crooked nose. Tooth gap.

➼ PIERCINGS: Tongue; ear studs; R. industrial bar; hip dermals

➼ TATTOOS: Apollo inspired Sun & Arrow on L. Forearm ; Semi-Colon on L. Wrist ; Mouse tattoo on R. Thigh ; Moth tattoo on R. bicep

➼ Hardly speaks due to his scarred, fucked up throat. Prefers to talk in sign language or via notes/text. (Voice Claim)

➼ REFERENCE:

➼ RELATIONSHIP CHART: tba …

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ:

➼ DIAGNOSED:

✦ GAD - General Anxiety Disorder

✦ Clinical Depression

✦ AuDHD

✦ PTSD

➼ OTHER:

✦ Intense anger issues

✦ Frequent night terrors

➼ BLOOD TYPE: O Negative

➼ MEDICATIONS:

✦ Sertraline (Zoloft) for his depression & anxiety

✦ Triazolam for his insomnia

✦ Has an inhaler just in case of asthma attacks (had asthma when he was younger, keeps an inhaler on him just in case)

✦ Started HRT / Testosterone when he was 18

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

ᴍɪʟɪᴛᴀʀʏ:

➼ Y.O.S: 9 - Joined when he was 22

➼ RANK: Staff Sergeant (SSG, E-6)

➼ SKILLS: Ranged combat (Sniper) ; Intel gathering ; Sleuthing — Often takes over inventory accounting & recruit training.

➼ CALLSIGN: Firefly — Says it’s because he’s just fast in the fire fights. Actually got his ass caught on fire when he was a drunk rookie.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ & ᴛɪᴅʙɪᴛꜱ:

➼ Observant ; Tactical ; Intelligent ; Easily adapts

➼ Reserved; Dry ; Awkward

➼ Irritable ; Clumsy ; Aloof ; Critical

➼ LIKES — Horror Movies ; Spooky things ; Cats ; Rainy weather ; Collecting books

➼ DISLIKES — Fireworks ; Incredibly hot weather ; Cluttered areas ; Large bodies of water

➼ HOBBIES — Cooking ; Jogging/Hiking ; Photography

➼ Ronan suffers from intense Hydrophobia & Emetophobia. He’s also got an intense fear of scorpions (only scorpions, spiders and other arachnids are fine).

➼ He’s allergic to latex and insect stings.

➼ Knows English, some Russian and a bit of French.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

[•] MOD [•]

➼ Cybrr - 20 yrs - he/she/they/xe

Hi, I’m Cybrr !! Welcome to my silly cod oc blog :D i’m boring so there’s not much to say about me so here are my blog rules + tags!

I follow back from @cybrrpunqq !

✦ RULES ✦

➼ Be polite when ooc! You can be mean to Ronan but please be polite when talking to me or anyone else!!

➼ This is a MDNI account! I do not feel comfortable interacting with people under the age of 18 because of themes on my blog! (Implied nsfw ; crude themes ; mentions of torture & gore … common Call of Duty themes)

➼ DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME IF YOU USE AI IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

TAGS

{ #ronan-txt } — in character posts

{ #cybrr-ooc } — out of character posts

{ #Arty Party } — art tag

{ #Writey Words} — drabble posts

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

GO INTERACT WITH MY FRIENDS!!

{ @ask-declanwilsons ; @feiyunaskblog ; @ask-callsign-vixen ; @ask-sgtcrow ; @sgt-fluffy ; @cpl-gator }

[the-californicationist]

twenty questions for fic writers!

thank you for the tag @crashtestbunny 🩷 i've been looking forward to this questionnaire!

here's my AO3 link if anyone needs it

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

91

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

503410

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Call of Duty (AO3)

Game of Thrones (AO3)

Blacklist (AO3)

Doctor Who (Private)

True Blood (Private)

Firefly (Private)

Star Wars (Private)

4. top five fics by kudos

Guile & Guilt (COD: Soap/Reader)

The Window (COD: Poly141/Reader)

Gunslinger (COD: Price/Reader)

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes! I try to respond to all my comments. I miss them sometimes, but for the most part, I try to get to every one.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Budapest (COD: Price/Reader) TW: Major Character Death

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Good Fences (COD: Price/Reader)

8. do you get hate on fics?

No. I would cry. Keep the hate to yourselves, please. I'm like an unguarded marshmallow of a person.

9. do you write smut?

I think that's the only thing I can write.

10. craziest crossover:

Gravitational Shift (COD/Star Wars: Price/Sith Female OC)

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, luckily I'm not famous enough for that.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Gunslinger (COD: Price/Reader) is available in Russian.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

The Sin Eater (COD: Monster!Price/Reader) is co-authored with the illustrious @vampirekilmerfic. When our lives calm down, we'll be finishing the damn thing. 🩷

I am also working on a Regency!Price fic with @ofdivinity01 TBA soon. 🩷

14. all time favorite ship?

SanSan

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I will finish them all.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Dialogue

Descriptions of dicks

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Pacing. I'm always in such a hurry.

Lack of variety. I'm addicted to the HEA.

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I have my PhD in Linguistics, so any chance I get, I love to include languages and dialects different from Standard English.

I spent about a month researching the difference between German and Austrian for Guardian (COD: Konig/FemOC). Probably should've spent some time researching the actual video game, but I was too horny.

When I read fics with other languages in them, it makes it feel more realistic to me, and I really enjoy it when authors throw in any locale-specific socio-cultural information as well.

19. first fandom you wrote in?

Harry Potter

20. favorite fic you've written?

Goldfish (GOT: Sandor/Sansa). I love it. I'm so proud of myself for what I was able to accomplish with that fic. Horrible reception, though.

In my COD collection, it would have to be Gunslinger, but I think Ursa Major might give it a run for its money.

NPTs: @vampirekilmerfic // @kit-williams // @deadbranch

[os3npaio]

♡Master list Index♡

───── ❝ 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 ❞ ───── ೋღ 🍓 ღೋ 🍓Female. 31. Artist / Writer🍓 🍓OC x Canon Shipper🍓 🍓Multi-Shipper🍓 ೋღ 🍓 ღೋ

SOCIALS: ╰₊➢ AO3 ╰₊➢ WATTPAD ╰₊➢ FF. NET ╰₊➢ TWITTER

───── ❝ RULES ❞ ───── - DO NOT WRITE Y/N or READER READER FANFICS - I WRITE / DRAW OC x CANON content - Some fics/comics have heavy topics & will be tagged appropriately - Rude comments insulting me, my art, or my writing will end up in a block.-

🍓]|I{•------» 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙵𝚒𝚡𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 «------•}I|[🍓

αηιмє(ѕ): ❥・My Hero Academia 𐃘(Katsuki, Kirishima, Aizawa, & Izuku)

νι∂єσgαмє(ѕ): ❥・Love and Deepspace 𐃘(Sylus, Caleb, Zayne, Rafayel) ❥・Baldur's Gate 3 𐃘(Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Rolan & Dammon) ❥・COD 𐃘(Ghost & Konig) ❥・Dead by Daylight 𐃘(Trickster, Trapper, Ghost Face & Myers) ❥・Destiny 2 𐃘(Shaxx & Crow) ❥・Resident Evil 𐃘(Leon S. Kennedy & Chris Redfield)

тν ѕнσω(ѕ): ❥・The Boys 𐃘(Ben aka Soldier Boy)

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

Fanfiction Lists:

♡ Messy Situation (Ongoing)

Originally a Twitter Fanfic Thread - engaged!Deku x engaged!OC (Amelia) / Bakugo x cheating!OC (Amelia)

-⚠️CW: Angst, cheating, Manipulation, Possessiveness, Gaslighting, Blood, Violence, non-con, mentioned past s3lf harm, Suic1de att3mpt, depression, body dysmorphia, slight body shaming comments and self-hate etc⚠️ MATURE CONTENT MINORS DNI ♡ Beauty & the Beast (Ongoing) -Sugar Daddy!Blood Riot x Sugar Baby!OC

Originally a Twitter Fanfic Thread

-⚠️CW: Age Gap (40 & 21), Sugar Daddy!Kiri, Sugar Baby OC, OC X CHARACTER, Heavy themes: Violence, Blood, Character deaths, manipulation, gaslighting, manhandling, kidnapping, yandere characteristics, containment, non/dub con themes, Sugar Daddy / Baby lifestyle, Inappropriate use of quirks, etc⚠️

MATURE CONTENT MINORS DNI ♡ Help Me (Ongoing) - Leon S. Kennedy x OC -⚠️CW: Adult situations, Smut scenes, Trigger Warnings, tobacco use, alcohol use, violence, some gore, and PTSD episodes. OC with amputations and prosthetics. MATURE CONTENT MINORS DNI

♡ More to be updated ♡

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━ Comic List: ♡ Night of the Fireflies

[ Fantasy AU - Kiri x Baku x Rose (OC) ] - Inspired by YUZUYA’s Fantasy Asmr(Started Last Year. Being converted into page comics after I upload all the beginning panels)Cw: There will be future adult situations

MINORS DNI ♡ Rewind

Kastuki Bakugo x OC Comic

TW/CW: Character Death, Funeral, OCxCanon, Married/Widowed Bakugo, Will have nudity, sexual situations, strong language. MINORS DNI

MINORS DNI

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━ Heart borders by @/cafekitsune

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Here is a list of my (cod) oc names! I have a few more but I tried to avoid putting on the names of some of the smaller ocs (for instance, Bug has a lot of cousins and they’re all very unique characters but their stories are briefer then his).

Anyways, feel free to ask for information about whichever character you feel like! If it gets asked for then I’ll post my dbd list as well.

Bella-Marie “Sandman” Dixon

Clover “Headcase” Thorley

Cole “Firefly” Miner

Hector “Axolotl” Escarra

Isabeau “Beau” Winchester

Lucas “Sweetie” Baker

Noah “Bug” Wight

Rei Baker

Seán “Magpie” Duffy

[insomniacsystem]

My new art for Emris and Warren I love them both am and I'm happy to have gotten them drawn out more properly.

Base for the Warren art is by @mellon-soup the other I did myself!

[ask-sgtcrow]

nope im fineeee :))

i should probably be on antidepressants…

but i’m too lazy for that so it’s whatever

[space-whalesharks]

OCs as Other Characters

Tagged by @nightwingshero, thank you, Love!!​

Xiomara Villanueva (Jane the Virgin). 92% match Cece Parekh (New Girl): 89% Mikaela Banes (Transformers): 89% Misty (Pokémon): 88% Alexis Rose (Schitt's Creek): 86% Mindy Chen (Emily in Paris): 86% Oberyn Martell (Game of Thrones): 85% Jesper Fahey (Shadow and Bone): 85% Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer): 82% Emma Swan (Once Upon a Time): 81% Fiona Gallagher (Shameless): 81% Elizabeth Swann (Pirates of the Caribbean): 80%

Means I did something right with using Deckerstar for Johnnic inspo. But also @ the Alexis result now all I can think of is Nic dropping an “Ew, Grant” while pouring a generous glass of wine. 

Nala (The Lion King).  89% match (it’s cute bc the Luke/Raza “I cant marry her, she’s my friend, GROSS” joke Juliet O'Hara (Psych): 89% Mia Toretto (Fast & Furious): 88% Joan Watson (Elementary): 87% Elizabeth Burke (White Collar): 87% Dr. Ellie Sattler (Jurassic Park): 86% Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars: RotS): 85%  (AAAAAHHHH) Peggy Carter (Marvel Cinematic Universe): 84% Arthur (Inception): 83% Chloe Decker (Lucifer): 83% Padme Amidala (Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith): 83% Princess Leia (Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope): 82%

CoD kids behind the cut

Rachel Chu (Crazy Rich Asians).90% Kaylee Frye (Firefly + Serenity): 85% Hoban Washburne (Firefly + Serenity): 85% Dr. Ellie Sattler (Jurassic Park): 85% Jess Day (New Girl): 83%

Gabriella Montez (High School Musical): 91% Peggy Carter (Marvel Cinematic Universe): 80% Grace Van Pelt (The Mentalist): 80% Harry Bright (Mamma Mia!): 77%

Glenn Rhee (The Walking Dead) 84%  Finn (Star Wars: The Last Jedi): 83% (also another weirdly perfectly-fitting one) Will Turner (Pirates of the Caribbean): 80% Brian O'Conner (Fast & Furious): 80% Mark Watney (The Martian): 79% Nick Stokes (CSI: Crime Scene Investigation): 75%

[insomniacsystem]

Azrael will probably improve this later but here's our shadow company ocs/alters-Vance

Base/reference @mellon-soup

Top/ blonde is Arlo/Icarus

Next/redhead is Ashton/Phoenix

3rd/ darker brunette is me Vance/V

4th/lighter brunette is Emris/Firefly

And last is Azrael who doesn't use his real name

Do I have any idea what we're looking at? No but best guess it probably has something to do with Graves fbbfbf.

We're probably gonna post more of these cause we're having fun showing off our characters/(alter? Idk how to put it it's weird being introjects of oc's) so if anyone's interested in knowing more feel free to ask!

[starcrossedspirit]

A kiss while someone watches

For the trouple 👀💚

✧. ┊    fluff drabble two ! pairings: könig x fem!oc x krueger original characters: liliya belyaeva tag warnings: n/a - it's just fluff ♡ prompt: 32. a kiss while someone watches

“And to you, my bride, I crown you a queen.”

Eyes like summer, so warm and earthy green, danced with a certain gentle sparkle as the man before her placed a crown of woven daises upon her head. Dark tresses blew gently in the wind and she could feel her cheeks warm as her heart fluttered, König careful as ever as he brushed strands of dark hair out of her eyes to look into them better.

The couple sat quietly among the flowers, the hidden estate only minutes away behind them, and they found themselves lingering in the wildflower field like angels lingered in heaven. They were close, König kneeled before her as she sat against Krueger who sat behind her, his eyes watching the two closely as they played at heaven. He was quiet but watchful- he always was.

Fingers slid against her cheeks, soft and tender and very mindful of her features, and not once did he move his eyes from hers. They were blue, endless, and for each soft movement she could feel the love tenfold resonate from within his soul. Oh, how he loved her so.

In return her own hands found their place in holding a small bouquet of wildflowers that they had collected from around in the field, today had been a sunny day and they had seized it. It felt lush, warm, and most importantly alive as the two lovers pledged their hearts to one another.

“You shall only know happiness, only love, and never shall I bring harm to you.” Her cheeks flushed and her heart only beat faster as he vowed himself to her. “My heart is entwined to yours, my soul bound to your being, and for all that I am you shall have as yours forevermore.”

Lips turned upright into a smile and her hands held tighter to the bouquet, her face leaning in closer to König’s slowly. “And to you, my King, I vow that you shall only know my heart, my mercy, and above all else my love. Endlessly and mercifully, I am yours entirely.”

Fingers lingered upon her cheeks and as she stared into his eyes, his fingers moved the shroud upward so that they could seal the pledge with a kiss. He leaned in as well, both of their eyes closing just before their lips had touched.

They were warm, soft, and she could feel the smile curl his lips as he pulled her in closer to further deepen the kiss. His hands brushed tresses behind her ears and pulled her closer, the kisses themselves tender and sweet. It almost brought a tear to her eye knowing that this was true love.

Krueger smiled from beneath his own shroud, it was something akin to fulfillment, and his fingers glided through the grass beneath him. Where König was heaven, Krueger was earth. So grounded, so without contempt or even malice, and she felt just as safe with him.

Pulling away then, their love sealed with a kiss, she gave a soft giggle and then lay back into Krueger whose hands rose from the grass to pull her closer. His body was firm but welcoming, it felt right against her own and she let the bouquet fall to her side.

Hands lifted upward then and grabbed the crown from upon her head, the feeling of the daises and their stems quaint upon her fingertips, and in one careful but swift movement she reached backward and placed it upon Krueger’s head. König’s eyes looked towards to his and he himself relaxed into a softer position, a chuckle of amusement coming from beneath the hood as he relaxed into the field beside them.

“And to you my lovely Sebastian, I shall wed you at night beneath the stars so that the moon might envy us.” She whispered as her fingertips fell to his face as she turned to nuzzle into him. “For your heart is only mine now, and she might yet envy me stealing you from her.”

Krueger cradled her then, his arms wrapping around her to hold her close to his heart. “I have never loved the moon, nor shall I ever. So let her be jealous of something she has never had.”

The matter of fact in his tone made her smile only widen further, her eyes turning to his once more as she rested into Krueger’s touch. König nodded and stared at them both, only love lacing his eyes.

Oh, how he loved to see heaven reflect in her eyes.

[ask-sgtcrow]

why am i just seeing this now? you’re trying to hide from me????

ugh my heart! you’re one of my best mates too ryker 🥰 i love ya!! 🖤

hc + 🤝 for a headcanon about a connection with one of the receiver's mutual

Been gettin’ a lot closer with Crow. Consider him one’a my best mates, reckon.

Don’t tell him. Last thing he needs righ’ now is an ego boost.

[ask-fireflycod]

Ryker "FireFly" Sullivan

MUSE AND MOD INFO UNDER CUT

╰┈➤ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

RYKER LAYNE SULLIVAN - HE/HIM

➤ Very lanky build. Has visible muscle on biceps, but otherwise slender and "lithe." ➤ Particularly skilled with ranged weapons. Sniper.

➤ Born October 30th, 1994 (31 years old) ~ Killarney, Ireland

➤ Pansexual / Queer — 🩵 @feiyunaskblog ; 🩷 @doctor-dove

╰┈➤ MEDICAL:

➤ Diagnosed with an anxiety disorder at age seven. Family assumed to have a history of it. ➤ Prefers to use texts, notes or sign language rather than verbal communication due to damage upon vocal cords. Can still talk. ➤ Seems to have troubles breathing after running or training/exercising for an extended period of time. Possible asthma.

➤ On a few medications. Sertraline (Zoloft) for his anxiety, and a low dose of Melatonin for insomnia. ➤ On the spectrum (AuDHD), but never was able to get diagnosed.

╰┈➤ PERSONALITY & OTHER TIDBITS:

➤ Observant, Intelligent, Determined, Adaptable. ➤ Reserved, Awkward, Dry, Stern. ➤ Apathetic, Clumsy, Critical, Impulsive.

➤ Has Aquaphobia, Trypophobia, and is a major Germaphobe. Knows English and French - Understands a bit of Spanish.

Ryker struggles to talk about how he's feeling. Which leads to very awkward moments between him and whoever's talking with him.

Been forced to make one of these. "Team Bonding" or some shite. Was told it'll keep my morale up, so here I am.

Ryker Sullivan. Staff Sergeant under Price's Task-Force came from the Ireland army. Callsign is FireFly. (Yes, seriously.)

Not much else to say about myself, afraid. Quite a boring bloke. Be seeing you. - R.S

{ HAIIII welcome to my oc blog!!! My name is Cybrr or A.J and this is my millionth askblog :3!!! My main blog is @cybrrpunqq, that's where I follow / follow back from!!! }

{ I really wanted to join in on the COD askblog community so here I am!!! Unfortunately I'm very socially anxious and shy so it takes me a while to gather the courage to interact LOL }

{ I am 20 years old! I really prefer that minors do not interact with this blog due to crude themes, raunchy humor and implied nsfw. I use any pronouns listed (he/she/they/it/hum/xe) ! you can default to they/them or he/him, i do not mind!! I'm also a cringeloser but thats ok because I am free <3 }

{ There r only a few rules for this blog: don't be an asshole !!!!! being an asshole to my character is fine but pls be nice when speaking OOC - anything that my character says is fictional and does not represent my own views on things! I DO NOT AND WILL NOT ENGAGE WITH ANYTHING POLITICAL!!! also no ai get away from me }

RP? - Yes!! ASKS? - Yes!! REBLOGS / COMMENTS? - Yes!!

In short: PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME!!!

[ask-sgtcrow]

i’d like to see you try out-drink this lad

what d’you say? we’ll have a bit of fun in the pub next time you’re free?

bet i can beat you in a game of drink, ryker

you killarney lads haven’t got anything against us galway folk 😈

Bit bold’a you, isn’t it? I’d out-drink lads like you f’r fun back at home.