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loveindefinitely · 1 year ago

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༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

04 — I'M HERE REGARDLESS OF THE PAIN

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3.

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As it turns out, ‘real men’ fight bloody.

It’s a difficult journey, your escape, and you end up killing more men than you had ever planned to. With comms blaring in your ears, the weight of an assault rifle in your hands, and the windy night brushing against your clammy skin, you find yourself lost in the thrill of battle.

Everything comes to a head, however, when an unfamiliar voice enters your comms, and both Soap and Ghost seem to deflate with relief.

It’s with the roaring of a helicopter overhead, bullets flying by your running body, that a deep, gravelly British voice trickles into your ear – like the eye of a hurricane.

“All stations, this is Bravo Six – Get down!”

You’re not sure who ‘Bravo Six’ is, or why he’s helping you, but the telltale spark that sparks at the base of your spine has your entire being – your soul – ready to put your life in this man’s hands. It’s an all-consuming, threatening need, but one you find yourself clinging to regardless.

Whatever mental dilemma that is starting to form immediately gets put away with the rest of your ongoing ones. Your focus is now entirely set on the figure on top of the wall, firing a rocket at the enemy’s helicopter. As the pilot loses control of the aircraft, you can feel the thrum in your chest as it crashes and burns into the prison’s ground.

“It’s Price!” Ghost cries out, the most… not joyful, but pleased, maybe, that you’ve ever heard the man.

“Hell fuckin’ yeah!” Soap adds, and when you flit your gaze to your left, you see the beaming grin on his blood-speckled face. In the giant, bright lights surrounding the grounds, you can see all of his intricacies, even when running and shooting down Shadows.

Price, you now recognise the voice as belonging to, commands you all through the radio once more. “All Bravo and Vaqueros,” he barks, “Top o’ the wall. Get here and I’ll get you out. How copy?”

He’s a Captain, through and through. From his delivery, requiring no disobedience, to the undertone of compassion for his men. He’s the kind of man you’d be blessed to work alongside with – a true, hard earned leader.

“Loud and clear, Price. Comin’ to ya!” Ghost copies, and it feels as though the air around the lot of you has grown thick with tangible, genuine hope.

Rodolfo, closest to your right, looks to you with raised brows, before calling out to Soap and Ghost to your left, “Who’s he?”

Soap’s returning smirk is hardened, a hint of bloodthirst in it. The wrapping around his arm has, miraculously, remained on, with only a small patch of blood bled through. It’s a relief, and a compliment to your handiwork. “A friend,” he chuckles, and you believe it.

“I like him already,” Alejandro barks a laugh, before tilting his head to call out to his men, “¡Vaqueros, vayan al muro, entre las torres, ya!”

You can’t help the small smile that creeps onto your face, amidst the sheer panic inside of you. It’s easy to fall into the heat of the moment, the camaraderie and community.

As the five of you stop mere feet away from the wall, you see ropes get dropped down by the figure on top, allowing for all of you to ascend. Price tells you all as much, before you're clicking your ascender into place, and being shot up the rope.

You’re just behind Soap and Ghost, watching as two men – you’re assuming the one with the boonie hat is Price – grab their hands and pull them up.

They all greet each other, and it hits you what they are. Who they are.

This is the 141 of every soldier’s nightmares. This is the 141 who Soap’s confirmed is closer than anyone will ever know. This is the 141 that takes down enemies by each other’s sides, forever on each other’s six.

It’s odd, being an outlier, someone watching on from outside of their circle. Like a spectator in a real life motion picture, or a cameraman capturing the essence of a love so deep, no one could tell where it started and ended.

They barely pass a few words amongst each other, before each of them move to help the rest of you up.

It’s the other stranger – a man with tight, dark curls, and electrifying brown eyes, that stretches his hand out for you to take. With one breath to decide, you let your hand fall into place against his, your skin heating from the very first touch.

Time seems to stop, just for a moment, as the two of you make eye contact for the first time.

His eyes. They’re such a deep, earnest brown, and the dimples etched into his cheeks look as if they were made to be admired. He, like Soap, has a light dusting of freckles across the highlights of his face, and if one were to tell you he was carved from stone, you’d believe it.

In reality, this assessment lasts less than a few seconds, before he’s pulling you forward.

But he’s too strong, too fast with it, and you quickly find yourself crashing into his chest, your nose hitting against his collarbone, sending a sharp pain through it.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, love,” he rambles out, quickly placing his large hands on your shoulders and keeping you at arms distance, eyes flickering up and down your frame. And, oh, his voice. It’s like honey against velvet, warm and soft and accented.

“It’s alright,” you manage to say, around the stiffness of your jaw.

He, too, seems at a loss for words, his brows pushing together in confusion. Before either of you can continue your conversation in your small bubble, Soap bursts it with easy charisma.

“Ale, Rudy,” he jerks his head towards the two newest additions to the small group, before looking to you, “Sweetheart.” You can feel your cheeks heat, your knuckles whitening against the strain of fisting your hands. “Meet Captain Price and Sergeant Garrick.”

It’s a true insult to be referred to as such a vitriol-lidden endearment, especially when being introduced to the 141’s Captain. And the man who you can’t quite get a feel of – the one still watching you, now.

“Thanks for the assist. My men need cover fire,” Alejandro yells over the sounds of gunfights and firearms, reloading his rifle as he does so.

There’s a collective, exciting thrum to the air, your body coming alive within it. A rooted, organic part of you instinctively forces your attention to Price, who immediately commands his team; “The lot of you! Overwatch – now!”

It’s a good call, and quickly adjusting a scope onto the head of your rifle, you move to kneel and aim over the small stone wall.

Peeking over it, you manage to shoot a few in an arm or a leg – not fatal wounds. If you were at all thinking, you’d realise it was a self-preservation technique; when your body would finally crash from the adrenaline, the pure agony of killing your men would, maybe, lighten. Just a bit.

You jolt when Price barks a warning, “Vehicles incoming, right side!”

Quickly adjusting your stance, you manage to catch a glimpse of the said vehicle, its body covered in the shadows.

“That vehicle’s rigged –” Ghost calls to your left side, but by his dampened tone, you can tell the words aren’t directed to you, “Soap, detonate it!”

Through the scope of your rifle, between one moment and the next, orange and yellow fill your line of sight; nothing visible but the heart of an explosion. You can’t help your deep, surprised exhale, but the sound of Soap’s manic laughter soothes the tension in your shoulders.

“¡Escalen, Vaqueros! ¡Es su oportunidad!” Alejandro shouts through his comms, at the same time that Ghost calls out their status, “Vehicle destroyed!”

Ghost’s voice is such a deep timbre – all dominance and command, guttural and raw and gravelly. You feel almost guilty, how easily you find yourself clinging to their instructions, even if you outrank them all. Like scotch tape over your cracking porcelain brain, a quick fix; a necessary one, if you don’t want to break on this very cement.

“Shadows in the right side tower, watch your backs!” Price calls, and you instantly pivot to direct your gun to the stone tower to your right, hands assuming the most stable position on your rifle without a single tremble.

Your eyes go wide as you watch Soap storm in, efficiently taking down all of the Shadows within with easy shots and a final slice of his knife.

Minutes pass, then, yelling of orders, Soap landing shots of his grenade launcher, Shadows going down without a single KIA caused by your trigger.

It’s when Alejandro calls out to his soldiers, pushing his tactical glasses up and securing his rifle on his back, “Vamos, avancen rapido- mientras está despejado!!” That you let yourself breathe. In, out, the feel of your chest rising and falling with the sound of destruction all around you.

The rest of the previously captive soldiers rush up the ropes, you extending your hand and pulling up a few, just like the rest of the men on top of the wall.

“We’re good to go, coronel,” Rodolfo turns to report to Alejandro, his expression firm, a thin clinging of sweat shining with the fire of explosions below. A few small cuts decorate his face, one just nicking a mole on his upper cheek.

Alejandro nods, allowing himself a smirk to stretch over his face, before looking to you all with a narrowed gaze. “Let’s get out of here, hermanos y hermana.” You will never admit the small, blooming part of you that craves that kind of inclusion – how he adjusts to your presence in such small ways.

“Down the wall,” Price jerks his chin, wiping a hand over the scruff of his beard as he prepares to exfil, looking behind you all. “We are leaving!”

Your heart stutters in your chest – a sudden, all-consuming thought erupting in your brain like wildfire. If you surrendered – turned, and begged for the Shadows to take you to Graves – would they? Was there any hope of return, of normalcy, a way for you to go back to the life you always knew?

A sudden hand around the nape of your neck has you startling out of your wandering thoughts, your eyes fluttering where they meet near-black ones.

Ghost.

“You know how to get down, dontcha?” He tilts his head, the words coming out deadly soft in the gunfire surrounding you both.

With shaky, unsure movements, you nod.

He squeezes his hold on your scruff tighter, studying you like one would study a germ under a microscope. He leans in – his mask brushing the side of your ear as he seethes, “Then get down, Sweetheart.”

If he knew of your inner struggle, or if it was merely a coincidence, you aren’t sure.

All you know is that he’d just saved you. Intentionally or not – he had rescued you from both the Shadows, and yourself. With a firm nod of your own, you shoulder him off of you, and rappel down the wall.

As soon as your feet hit the muddy ground, you focus in on the exfil vehicles up ahead, the lights no longer shining on you all. Hints of sunrise peak over the horizon, the small bits of hazy orange decorating the men near the vehicle.

Two more footfalls echo behind you, and when you look over your shoulder, it’s to find both Soap and Price.

“These are ours,” Price affirms, pointing to the two vehicles in front of you. When his eyes meet yours, his jaw sets minutely, and you're quick to look away and to the rest of the group.

“Check,” Alejandro nods.

Soap, jogging up to the vehicle, gestures to Rodolfo, “Take the truck we came with,” the man quickly agreeing and rushing back to join his Colonel and men.

“¡Vaqueros, siganme...! ¡Rudy, movamos el rancho!” Yells Alejandro, jerking his head towards the other man, Rodolfo quickly responding, “Sale, Coronel, suerte.”

Adrenaline continues to rush through your veins like a second blood, your muscles loose and ready to react to the smallest snap of a twig. Turning your brain off is second nature, at this point, the rush of unneeded thoughts shut off like a faucet.

Directing Price to follow their lead, you find yourself lost on where to go – Rodolfo was the closest thing you had to a supporter, but at the end of the day, the deal had been made with the 141. Not the Los Vaqueros.

“Gaz, drive!” Price directs, before his steely blue eyes find you, frosting over, allowing you no way of reading his emotion. “You’re with us.”

…There’s your answer, you suppose.

The five of you manage your way into the vehicle, Gaz roughly hopping into the driver’s seat and the other three rushing into the back. Soap’s hand finds its way around your wrist as you go to hop in, pulling you forward roughly.

Elbowing him with a somewhat immature huff, you try and get comfortable, but being squished in with three other six-foot-something bulky men makes the act difficult.

It’s the least of your problems, really, because as soon as you stop your fussing around, all eyes are on you.

“You lot have three seconds to tell me what the hell is goin’ on,” Price grits out from under his breath. Somehow, it comes out a hundred times more terrifying than if he had yelled it.

Two nervous seconds pass, and just when you think that this is finally going to be the end of your road, Soap babbles out, “The lass is with us now. Sir.”

Knees spread, Price runs a tired, weathered hand down his face, letting out a long-suffering breath.

“...Where’s she from? A stray?” He asks, looking to the two – so dismissive, you just can’t help yourself. You’d earned your title, you were worthy of respect, even if it was from the Captain of the 141.

“She’s right here,” you retort, voice hard and unbudging – even when six eyes lock onto you once more. “And she is a Colonel. One who just killed her men because she wasn’t going to turn a blind eye to war crimes. Who just saved the lives of your men, for no reason but her humanity. Is that what you wanted to hear, Captain?”

Visceral, tangible silence fills the metal walls of the vehicle once more.

That is, until a low, impressed whistle from the front breaks it. Gaz. You look into the rearview mirror, meeting his smile-crinkled eyes. “Definitely what I wanted to hear,” he says, a grin on his elegant features, the minute lighting of the horizon cascading his skin is silky pastels.

“...Sweetheart ‘nd Johnny got in a scuffle while we were on the run,” Ghost supplies, eyes darting to yours for a second before focusing in on Price. “She gave him mercy. We agreed to enter a… mutually beneficial agreement.”

“Mutually beneficial?” Soap guffaws, then groans when you elbow him against his injured arm, his head hanging between his shoulders.

Staring down Price, you straighten your spine. “I help you all survive Graves and get the job done. You give me the resources necessary to knock some sense into him.”

Price raises an unimpressed brow, looking at the three of you in a strange sense of exasperated disappointment. “By ‘knock some sense into ‘im’,” he uses air quotes, “We help you kill ‘im?”

That is the biggest question of all.

Could you – would you – kill him? The man who was your everything; boss, provider, family, lover. If it meant protecting the greater good, if it meant sacrificing yourself, would you allow yourself to deliver the final bullet to his brain?

“No,” you manage, voice cracking softly when you look down to where your hands fist against the fabric atop your thighs. “This isn’t him. I don’t know what’s going on, but…” You swallow, finally looking at Price in the eye once more. “I just want things to go back to normal. He’ll come around.”

It’s like you’ve rolled over and bared your throat to the four men, allowing vulnerability in such a trapped space.

“And if there is no saving him?” Price asks, leaning his forearms against his thighs, entwining his hands together as he studies you. “We’re taking ‘im down, but…” Rolling his tongue against the back of his teeth, he considers for a moment, before nodding to himself. “We’ll allow ya to speak to ‘im. If anything goes haywire…”

“You’ll kill him,” you fill in the blanks, the words sounding hollow even to your own ears. They taste wrong on your tongue, the syllables like sour milk.

“He tried to kill us both,” Soap spits out, his right leg bouncing as he looks around the van. “Yer lucky we’re giving ye this much.”

“I could’ve killed you,” you state, the words anything but a lie. They seem to shut him up, at least.

“Save the squabbling for later,” Price cuts in, a direct order to you both. You could, if you wanted to, point out that you were both of equal rank, really, but you decide against it. If you had it your way, you’d have the Captain of Task Force 141 liking your company. “What the hell happened to you, MacTavish?”

MacTavish is certainly a new one – if you had to take a guess, it’d be Soap’s last name.

With a roll of his eyes, Soap jerks his chin to his bandaged upper arm. “Got shot. Through and through. Sweetheart bandaged me up.”

“Where’d that one come from?” Gaz asks from the front, watching through the rearview mirror. “Sweetheart. Got a crush, Johnny boy?”

“Oh feck off,” Soap grumbles, casting a soft glare to the man up front. “Hen gave me those sweetheart lollies when aye was bleedin’ out. Had nothin’ else.”

Gaz hums as if to say that he does not believe that story for a second, and you see all four of them seemingly… relax. Easing, like how one would as they stepped through their front door after a long day at work. Familial and comforting and…

Not for you.

You don’t belong, that voice once again echoes through your ears, and this time, it’s harder to shut it out. It doesn’t matter that you don’t belong, not when you’d be finding your own feet after this bullshit gets sorted out. Really, there wouldn’t even be a reason to see the four men, or the Las Vaqueros, again.

For some reason, your stomach feels uneasy with that thought process.

“We found out somethin’ much more important,” Ghost admits, and the mood immediately settles into something much more cold, much more serious. “Shepherd burned us.”

That name.

It’s like a shot to your system, an invasion of your very being.

Shepherd.

“...General Shepherd?” You mutter out, without a single thought behind the words, your mouth directly connected to your mind.

“Ye know ‘im?” Soap blurts out, brows furrowed and torso turning towards you, hand flexing around the rifle in his lap. Your mouth is dry, your palms are clammy, and your head is pounding.

“He trained me,” you manage, breath tightening and words shaky.

“He was my first Captain.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re

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domreader-headcannon-scenarios · 1 year ago

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Hello! I really love your works sm, can i request a sfw or nsfw head cannons of the angels from WHB? Thank you!!

I’m so glad you liked them!! So I’m tryna write the angels as best I can Gabriel is the only one I’ve met outside of a event, I’ve seen the other two in the Halloween event! I like em but ngl they have…unique kinks I needed to google hifth

I hope you enjoy!!

Over all cw: blaspheme (I think?? ((Angels worshiping you)), death (not main characters), abuse of power

Sfw/nsft hcs on Angels!

Gabriel

Cw: inappropriate boners,

He basically a guard dog standing over your shoulder 24/7 to keep you safe, he calls you his ‘Lord/Lady/Highness’ and has an army of angels who think the same of you

He’s not very affectionate but if you just say ‘hold me/my hand’ or ‘kiss me’ he’d do it in a heart beat. As his God he only wants you pleased

He’s a terrible cook and somehow steals food and is terrifying good at getting away with it (it must be an angel thing??) he dosent even lie saying he made it, he’s just vague where it came from (only once have you caught him in the act and you made him apologize, but the person gave him the food regardless)

He dust a lot in your home and you cant help but notice the ‘home made’ duster he ‘found’ has feathers matching his wings…

Nsft

Canon Kink: Hierophilia; deriving sexual pleasure from religion, religious places and objects as well as find the act itself religious

He enjoys watching you participate in religious activities…maybe too much. He also finds pleasure in treating you as his god.

You jokingly thought of making him go to church, only for him to jump at the chance. He lowkey regretted it when you didn’t touch him, and made him stay squirming in his seat instead of helping him get off. He for whatever reason thought you’d let him jerk off or would touch him yourself as you were holy, nothing you did was wrong but…touching himself in this place is

You’ve actually caught him touching himself to you praying before, he got bashful upon getting caught but you swear you’ve heard him doing it after that, you just don’t catch him in the act (though you’ve caught him awkwardly standing by and adjusting himself)

He’s got a adorablely small and sensitive cock and he genuinely doesn’t need it touched to cum, roll it between your fingers for a few minutes and he’s trembling as he spills out all his cum

Michael

Cw: murder, inappropriate boners

He’s strict with everyone around you, but not you, in his eyes you are the law since he serves only you, you cant do wrong

He’s terrible if you have guest, he demands they now to you and though he’ll settle if you tell him to, he watches them like a hawk and makes sure nothing gets out of hand

You see that leash? If you get mad and pull on it, he will calm down and you have his full attention, give it another tug downwards, and he’ll drop to his knees in front of you, and anyone else in the room

He likes brushing and styling your hair, he’ll try to help you bathe, insisting you don’t need to lift a finger, he will take care of everything, just relax

Nsft

Canon Kink: Erotophonophilia; ‘Muder kink’, deriving sexual gratification from killing or watching someone get killed (BOY IS THIS A HARD KINK TO CASUALLY WORK WOTH)

If push comes to shove he has a habit of killing people who harass you too much/threaten you, but he gets…really excited afterwards and is pressing his thighs together to hide his erection, especially if you’re clearly not in the mood

You’ve seen him get in fights while still aroused from the last kill an honestly, when in public you sometimes just force a chastity cage on him to discourage him acting out

Though he believes self pleasure, or just the act in general is…sinful, he will do anything for you with no qualms, he only feels good when you touch him anyway

He suffered from wet dreams whenever you’re around him or he has objects with your scent

When he want to fool around desperately he will walk right up to you, kneel and beg you to touch his neither regions, stroking, slapping, pinching, doesn’t matter as long as you touch him

Raphael

Cw: messy kitchens, messy person, furniture abuse,

He’s messy and kinda gets annoying at times since he discovered how much fun it is to smash condiment packages

He’s good about cleaning, and he even cooks to make up for the mess…but he’s a sloppy cook too but at least it’s not intentional this time

He doesn’t understand that the furniture isn’t trying to hurt you and doesn’t need to be punished. He’s broken threee tables, one bed post and five chairs since he’s moved to being your ‘Guardian Angel’, all for tripping you or you stubbed your toe on them

He’s not affectionate but he’s not distant, he just follows your lead, he stands close by and if you ask him to come over he flops in your lap and looks up at you like a puppy. He likes when you watch tv and let him lay across your lap, he falls asleep easily that way

Nsft

Canon Kink: Automysophilia; getting sexual gratification from defiling oneself, being dirty or defiled

He enjoys getting messy with cum, blood, dirt, just about anything. He will be blissed if you strip him and cover him in…well it’s up to you ;)

He has no qualms with jerking off in front of you if you don’t want to touch him while he’s too messy, but he wants you to be fully clothed while he’s sprawled out naked in front of you

He’s fucked slime before since it feels…weirdly good around his shaft, to the point he gets excited when he sees it around the house. You had to punish him for thinking he could ‘fool around’ with it then hide it away again

He’s got a very sensitive halo, while other angels get off to them being touched like a devils horns, he avoids it since it brings him to his knees in seconds

#what in hell is bad #whb #Gabriel #Raphael #sub Gabriel #Michael #sub michael #sub raphael #dom reader #Gabriel x reader #raphael x reader #michael x reader #headcannons #nsft #sub whb Gabriel #sub whb Michael #sub whb Raphael

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silverthehedgehoganalysis · 9 months ago

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Here is a list of traits Silver has shown in the games, Sonic Channel and other Sonic Team made content:

Righteous, has a strong sense of justice and is driven to make things right

Kind-hearted, puts other people’s happiness before his own and will drop his mission to help others, is motivated by his desire to protect smiles, wants to use his powers not for himself, but to help others.

Extremely Determined

Optimistic and Hopeful, believes there’s always a chance as long as you don’t give up, inspires hope in the people he works with in Forces, the final story of Sonic 06 and when he helps Elise through her performance anxiety

Pure, has a “sincere, unpretentious and kind” demeanor and wears his heart on his sleeve, this genuineness and purity gives him an “enduring charm” that is one of the biggest things his friends, particularly Blaze, enjoy about him and makes others want to support him

Forthright, is very direct and frank with people and has a straight to the point mentality, is straightforward in his actions and thinking

Earnest and blunt to the point of naivety, expects people to believe and cooperate with him when he says he’s from the future, hides very little and is so honest that he announces himself when attacking Sonic

Not trusting post 06, doesn’t give Sonic a Chaos Emerald until he proves he’s real in Sonic Generations and is the most suspicious of Dodon Pa

Snide and Sarcastic, sneers at Eggman’s theme park in Sonic Colors and has a snotty attitude towards anyone he can one up, remarks “What am I doing?” when going with Amy

Brash, has rude/informal mannerisms and can be abrasive, particularly to people who are not his allies

Juvenile, described as young and immature by his creator Shun Nakamura, this immaturity ties into many aspects of his character as well as his purity but is also the source of his snotty attitude and rude behavior, supposedly he doesn’t like green peppers which is the Japanese equivalent of children not liking broccoli

Focused, proactive and practical mindset, seen particularly throughout Sonic Forces

Focused on his goals, Does not care what the plan is called in Forces, only that it works and when asked about his favorite race item he says that he likes Jade Ghost because “It lets him disappear and focus on the race”

Inquisitive and proactive, questioned others about how the world was destroyed in the Iblis future his whole life, fought Iblis to try and clear the sky himself, spent most of Team Sonic Racing cracking down on Dodon Pa and Eggman, reads into “Ancient Wisdom” in the good future

Sharp and intuitive, Figures out how to revive Sonic in 06, sees through Eggman Nega's disguises by noticing small details, does successful detective work in Sonic 06 and Team Sonic Racing, intuits Blaze trying to control great powers when seeing them for the first time, has solved various puzzles and mysteries by himself, “knows a lot” according to Sonic in Silver’s Sonic Channel introduction story

Skilled and Crafty, skillfully accomplishes various tasks during his Town Missions in Sonic 06, turns his fight with Sonic into a race to collect Chao in Sonic Rivals 2, Vector refers to him and Blaze as professionals in the Team Vector Nintendo Dream interview, has had jobs as a delivery boy, a figure skater, a “genius” skating coach and a butler

Trains off-screen and makes steady efforts to improve his abilities, seems to be self-taught in his skills

Sometimes takes everything on himself

Warrior with a warrior mentality, described as a warrior, enjoys fighting and will fight his friends for fun, fought and struggled for half his life in the Iblis future, values bravery and facing things head on, dislikes cowardice and indirect tactics, can endure “pain beyond description” and is undeterred by injuries (Shadow’s infamous kick to the head only made him mad)

Competitive and proud/confident in his abilities, has a smug attitude about his abilities and can get competitive over something as simple as handling Orbot and Cubot, clashes with Blaze the first time(s) they meet because of this

Headstrong and Confrontational, confronts Infinite alone because of this, gets offended when Blaze she calls him “weak” and treats him like an amateur

Very Emotional, tends to rush in and deal with things too head-on because of the strength of his feelings and start confrontations because he gets heated, his passion drives him forward but this same passion can cause him to be rash as his actions are dominated by his feelings

Hot Tempered and impatient, can be easily angered and gets frustrated or indignant when things don’t go his way, can get annoyed at things that get in the way or impatient with things that aren’t to the point, his sense of justice causes righteous indignation at great injustices, his temper can be quite similar to Blaze’s

Has Aggressive energy in both his demeanor and body language, generally has confident or determined expressions, often makes fists, punches things when he's frustrated and gets up by punching the ground

Can be Ruthless, has resorted to playing possum, sneaking past Soleanna guards, robbing people and killing to accomplish his goals

Courageous to the point of being Reckless, puts other’s safety before his own, instantly reacts to protect those around him when attacked in Sonic Comic, Instantly battle ready when surprised in Generations, fought against Iblis and its monsters from a very young age growing up in an extremely hazardous devastated future, both values bravery and dislikes cowardice, recklessly went off to face Infinite on his own and is noted to not back down even in the face of his mighty power, will sacrifice himself without a second thought if necessary

His way of life inspires others and makes them want to cheer him on, this even extends to real life as the illustration at the top this post inspired everyone in the office to give him a high five that day

Cannot lie but can change the subject

Doesn’t know how to explain/express himself at times

Scratches his head with his index finger when processing his thoughts

Feels joy and anger loudly but is quiet in sadness and contemplation

Gets rowdy, riled up and puts his all into things he’s feeling but is very low and quiet when something is on his mind or he’s feeling down(He’s totally autistic, this is autistic volume)

Has a mischievous side

Like apples, ate apple flavored rations in the Iblis future

Deeply appreciates peace, prosperity and people‘s smiles, beautiful vistas and people living peacefully leave him breathless

His desire for peace is seemingly driven by strong empathy for both the people and environment around him, blue skies make him feel at peace, natural beauty and people living prosperously takes his breath away, desolate or destroyed areas sadden and upset him, he can’t help but smile when he makes others smile and can’t stand to see the suffering in his destroyed futures

Has a very quiet, introspective and empathetic side (he deeply and quietly reflects on the morality of his mission throughout 06 and quietly takes in everything about Elise’s past)

AB blood type meaning that he's dual natured and adaptable based on the situation

Is a Taurus

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starscream-is-my-wife · 1 month ago

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Ok so your 'Megatron as the 2nd in command to Starscream' idea has brainblasted me /pos.

Does Starscream allow anyone else to wield Megatron or is that his privilege alone?

Does Megatron know that Starscream is only helping the lower castes as a side thing but believes that, no matter his motivations, Starscream is ultimately doing good or does Megatron genuinely think that Starscream is invested in this conflict as a way of creating equity?

Are the other members of Decepticon high command actually loyal to Starscream?

Thanks for giving me the chance to yap about this!

I think that in the beginning Starscream wouldn't care too much about who's shooting him as long as they are victorious but Megatron only trusts Starscream to be the one pulling the trigger.

As time goes on, Megatron got more comfortable letting Skywarp, Thundercracker, and Soundwave shoot him but Starscream had realized how powerful of a weapon Megatron is and how much he enjoyed being the only one that Megatron allowed to wield him. He got more possessive but Megatron enjoys how much Starscream cherishes(?) him

I think the second question depends on the backstory a bit, Megatron didn't know much about the world before Starscream other then he's just a thing to be used by the elites, and his altmode being a gun really limited his mobility. I did think about some possibilities of what he did beforehand:

1. He was a miner or worker (I don't think he would be so easily pacified if he was a gladiator and could fight himself) whose altform was pretty useless because always held back to not be used to hurt anyone, he mostly kept his head down and worked until Starscream came around and took over. Megatron was so awed that someone had thought about bots like him and took the first chance he got to present himself to Starscream and show him his real strength as a weapon

("new ruler the workers are demanding for rights! We must send forces to squash this before it gets out of hand!" "Why would I do that lol" "new ruler please! If those low caste get what they want then our economy will crash!" "Listen I'm leaving in 3 days, so I order that you give them what they want now and YOU can deal with the political and economic ramifications! If you succeed I'll send someone later when you did all of the work to take credit, if not, well, you're to blame for everything.")

2. Gunformers are quite rare, and no one wanted to reformat to be one especially if they weren't a triple changer. He ended up being sold to be the weapon of the police to keep the lower caste in check, no matter how much he tried to hold back he was still a powerful gun and was forced to execute innocent mechs. The chief had him trapped in his alt mode due to his... disobedience and dunked him in energon every once in a while to keep him alive. But they would forget that he was a cybertronian so he would just lay there in a locker, unmoving, starving, until someone used him and noticed that his shots were weaker, then they would dunk him in energon to use more. Megatron was starting to grow numb to it all, his hatred for the elites bleed into everything else, why did the mechs rebel? If they didn't then maybe he wouldn't be used against them.

It wasn't until Starscream came along and none of the police could hit him, his trine, or any of the seekers, they were too fast. The police chief who wielded him managed to get a lucky shot on one of Starscreams null rays. Annoyed, Starscream turned his target to the chief and landed a shot on him. The chief dropped Megatron at the feet of a Starscream who landed in his root mode, Starscream decided to shoot the pest with his own weapon, as payback for destroying one of his expensive null rays.

Megatron, realizing that he was being pointed towards the mech that has caused him so much pain, stopped holding back for the first time ever when Starscream pulled the trigger. The blast that fired turned everyone's vision white and caused an explosion that left a big crater where the chief was, body instantly vaporized. Starscream (and Megatron) didn't expect the blast to be so strong and the pair got flung back from the force. Starscream stunned, hit the ground with the gun still in his hand. He looked at it before strapping it in his cockpit seat and transforming to join the fight again.

Megatron felt every swoop and roll Starscream did, like watching an elegent dancer preform before they come to sweep you off your feet, he was still trapped in his alt mode but flying through the air as Starscream won the battle, he finally felt something, freedom.

After Starscream took the territory over, got the resources he wanted, allowed the lower caste to move up or whatever, he then looked more into this strange gun he picked up. It was different then all of the other guns that the police used? There's a machine in the basement that traps bots in their alt mode? Ohhhh.

In both of those options Megatrons self worth is pretty low and being with Starscream is better then anything he ever had in his life (at least at the start), but in the first one he's probably going to be alot more pushy about helping the lower caste and bicker more in general, and is probably more in line of the first option you said

I dont think either Megatron would fully believe the second one unless Starscream actually does want to make his equality his main goal, but the second Megatron can definitely dilude himself into thinking it! If he does accept that equality is only a secondary thing for Starscream, I want him to be like "might as well dedicate my entire being to Starscream because thats the only part of my identity that I feel is real".

There's just so many possibilities like how hard Starscream pushes to keep Megatron dependent on him, if they have a fallout how big would it be, if they ever have a healthy mutual respect, if Megatrons infatuation ever dies down, or if they just reflect themselves in the cartoon where they just bicker with each other but don't do anything to permanently change their positions. Although Megatron wouldn't declare himself leader he just. Does. The autobots are confused on who's actually the leader they don't question it anymore. (At the end of the day it's always Starscream)

As for everyone else in the high command, his trine are loyal, the rumors why Thundercracker and Skywarp aren't co leader, SIC, or TIC are blown out of proportion, they aren't secretly against Starscream, they like to enjoy all of the benefits of high command with no paperwork, probably the only bots other then Megatron that are strongly loyal to Starscream. Soundwave is still TIC, and competent at it, he doesn't mind that Starscream is leader but he wouldn't fight Megatron if he ever does want to take over, he still reports on any other traitors though. Would actually push for Megatron to take over if Starscream seriously hurts his cassettes. Shockwave and Starscream are on good terms but he does recognize that Megatron would also be a pretty good leader if he were to take over, I dunno about any other high command cause they change alot but if they liked Megatron normally then they *really* want him to take over, otherwise they're pretty indifferent, the lower rank you go the more popular Megatron is, hes even growing on some of the seekers who are still pretty loyal to Starscream.

Ngl I'm still pondering on what version I like the most, feel free to take any ideas!

#there are 4 main wolves inside of me #megatron who sticks with starscream because while things have... changed he still admires his skills #megatron who has the capability to lead but Starscream has instilled in him that he would always be his his tool #megatron who is ready to betray starscream if the battles with the autobots weren't so close and they cant afford infighting #or my current favorite #megatron who is so dedicated to starscream starscream also thinks that he would be nothing if it wasnt for megatron #asks #megastar #megascream #teetering to find a balance between this and being too ooc #I need to think about this a lil bit more lol #SIC megatron

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chamomiletealeaf · 9 months ago

Note

Johnny 'I'll fist fight you (affectionately) if you don't think you're pretty.' MacTavish

AHHH I LOVE THIS (might project in this one because I’ve recently been feeling ugly asf because of my Telogen Effluvium (stress induced hair loss)

Warnings: insecurity, mild suggestive themes at the end.

You’d be in the bathroom holding back tears while trying to do your hair for the date you were supposed to go on with your boyfriend Johnny. You can’t seem to get your hair right and it shows way too much of your face. Or so you think.

knock knock

“Can I come in bonnie? Wanna see how pretty you look.”

You sniffle and try to make your voice sound as convincing it can be.

“Um. Not yet! I- I’m not dressed!” You say hesitantly.

“Now I really wanna come in.” He says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice and you roll your eyes.

“C’mon, please? Wanna see my girllll.” He whines out and you give in.

“Ok fine. come on in.” You say, and he does.

He comes in the bathroom and smiles at you, even though your head is down, pretending to rummage through your makeup bag for something.

Johnny wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you in the mirror.

“Hey girlie.” He coos with a smile, but you don’t look up.

“Hey.. look up bonnie. Wanna see that pretty little face of yours.” He says as he goes to reach for your jaw with one hand and forces your head up so you look in the mirror.

His smile drops and his brows furrow when he sees the tear streaks and your puffy eyes.

“What’s the matter dovey?” He asks with genuine concern. “Why ya crying??” He turns you around so you face him and he looks at your face still, waiting for an answer.

“I- I don’t know I just… can’t get my hair right, my makeup isn’t blending well, I hate the way this sundress fits me, I- I just feel kinda ugly I guess.” You sniffle but drop your head down and look at your hands.

“Oh sweetheart…” Johnny coos.

“Look at me.” He says softly, and you don’t, so he lifts your chin up with his hand.

“I said look at me lass.” He says, still in a soft tone.

“You look absolutely gorgeous. Fuckin’ stunning. You could have your hair in all different directions, a bin bag on, and dirt smeared all over your face and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world.” He says, still holding your face.

“I think your hair looks beautiful, and your makeup too. I like the eyeshadow color you chose. Makes those pretty eyes that much more captivating as if they ever could entrance me any more. And this sun dress?”

A smirk begins to form on Johnny’s face as he turns you back around to face the mirror and he places his hands on your thighs and runs them up under your dress until they’re squeezing your hips.

“This dress was fuckin’ made for you. God you know how I love sundresses on you. You replace every star in the sky with just how much you shine my love.” He says into your ear and you sniffle again, but your lips twitch with a small smile.

“Now look in the mirror and say that you are the prettiest woman in the world.” He says, and you look at him.

“Johnny-“ you start, but he interrupts you.

“Ah- say it.” He demands.

You bite your lip for a second, cringing at what he wants you to say, because you don’t believe it. But you look at him and try anyway.

“Don’t say it to me. I already know. Say it to yourself.” He demands again, and grips your jaw again to look at yourself in the mirror and not at him.

“I- I am the prettiest woman in the world.” You mumble.

“Again.” He says.

“I am the prettiest woman in the world.” You say again, with more confidence, and your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“Aye- that you are bonnie.” He says, finally satisfied with your response.

“Now, let’s go out on our date hm? Wanna show everyone who my pretty little lass is.” He says into your ear as he squeezes your hips which makes you giggle as his facial hair tickles your skin.

“And when we get back?” He whispers lowly this time with a smirk, “I’m gonna prove to you again right between your thighs just how bloody fuckin’ beautiful you are.” He says, and you let out a little gasp which makes him laugh.

You forgot all about your insecurities with Johnny, because it was just you and him, and that’s all that ever mattered in the first place.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mw #cod #cod mw3 #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap cod #soap cod x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

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botchedsundoll · 1 month ago

Note

I LOVE YOU

Ily for writing gaolang... Ily you're awesome...

Ion wanna spam bbUT waoh ..

You're feeding me and the idk 7 other kengan likers on this godforsaken app

🫶

G. WONGSAWAT, O. TOKITA, R. KURE, C. IMAI, SP. YOROIZUKA, H. SEN X READER (SEPARATE)

ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; winter hc’s

ೃ⁀➷ warnings; lil suggestive in hatsumi’s (no surprise)

ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; this ones 4 u ho, didn’t know what to write abt LOL, also same why the flip is it so dead💔💔, they all so fine n they beat shit out of eachother how can u not like this show, MY RQS R OPEN PLS RQ PLSSSS😵😵😵😵😵

G. WONGSAWAT

not a fan of the colder seasons at all. if he could, he’d eradicate winter and autumn simply because of the drop in temperature

don’t even try getting this guy into a snowball fight. the moment he feels the pressure of something freezing and solid hit his back he’s slowly turning back to face you, that absolutely dreadful look of horror on his face

but what he does enjoy about the colder seasons? cooking! to him, there’s nothing better than a warm healthy meal on a cold day - which you end up being absolutely stuffed with. there’s no ifs or buts, you are eating the damn thing

wraps you up like crazy. think of a mother wrapping up her kid - 3 layers on beneath a massive fluffy coat, gloves, scarf, hat and zipped up to your neck

is literally constantly rubbing moisturiser onto your face to stop your skin from going dry and irritated. just imagine, that deadpan expression on his face as he’s smearing moisturiser on your face with the most delicate touch ever

you have to remind him you, in fact, are not 6 years old

not very big on pda - but once the temp drops, he’s reaching out for your hand and shoving it in his coat pocket with your fingers intertwined with his no matter where the hell you are

O. TOKITA

snow genuinely pisses him off - he hates the feel of it, he doesn’t care for it at all

only likes the colder seasons because you seem glued to him at all times - arm constantly wrapped around his bicep when you’re out, or snuggled up against him at home

won’t ever admit he likes it - yet that little smirk on his face speaks volumes

for some unknown reason he literally never gets fully dressed - as in a thick winter coat or gloves, no matter how cold it is. he’s leaving the house in his sneakers and a coat he begrudgingly put on due to your incessant complaining

this guy is like a bear, quite literally in hibernation - if he’s not training or eating, he’s sleeping. and he’ll be dragging you along with him too

sleeps with them thick ass heavy blankets with some sort of animal print/ flowers on them (babcia’s special)

once his arms are wrapped around you and his eyes shut? yeah, you’re not getting out

gets dry lips from the cold. gets confused when you won’t kiss him because of it

the SHITTIEST cookie decorator - he ends up eating half the damn tray before they’ve even cooled properly, and then eats some more whilst he’s icing them with you

most of his gingerbread men end up limbless because he snaps them off and eats them whilst he’s decorating

always makes the pair of you without a fail, despite his habit of eating the whole batch. they might look a little… strange but you absolutely love it and can’t help but tease him about it

R. KURE

he’s a hater at heart - hates every season just because

but winter? ESPECIALLY winter because of christmas and the fact the village has to be decorated - which he always ends up being forced to help out with

but he actually tolerates snow - only because he gets to throw snowballs at you

the moment the pair of you step outside, his hands are already reaching out for the snow and molding snowballs. and they will be targeting you. quite frequently - to the point you get pissed off and start screaming at him to pack it in and sort himself out

which eggs him on further

he believes he doesn’t feel cold so he doesn’t need a coat or whatever bullshit that makes him seem more ‘stronger’ than everyone else

he gets such dry skin around his nose from the cold yet will literally FIGHT you before he lets you put any moisturiser on or anything. but nag him about it constantly, he will eventually cave just to shut you up

wouldn’t be caught dead decorating cookies. refuses constantly… yet like always he finally caves

and the most damn surprising thing? he takes it SO seriously simply to have better looking cookies than yours so he can mercilessly bully you about it

C. IMAI

absolutely loves winter. what’s there not to love?

christmas, warm meals, snow, hot chocolate… he’s still a massive kid at heart

once a substantial amount of snow’s settled on the ground, he’s immediately ushering you out the house to make a snowman together

and because of how much he’s in a rush, he doesn’t bother getting dressed properly and always gets ill - it literally repeats every single damn year

ice skating. he IS taking you ice skating no matter what - can’t skate? he’ll teach you, don’t you worry about that

you bought him earmuffs as a joke, saying how cute he’ll look in them - he now wears them religiously every winter since

to him, november is officially the start of christmas - and for the next 2 months he’s always wanting to decorate cookies/ gingerbread men with you

and somehow, they always end up absolutely gorgeous - much to your dismay

cookie decorating competitions. always. (which he always wins)

SP. YOROIZUKA

somehow he can make the coldest of days feel like summer

we’ve all seen the manga panel - saw paing’s excitability just brings warmth everywhere and to anyone

LOVES making snow angels and snowmen. constantly asking you to make a snowman with you, there’s quite literally a whole army outside your house made by him and the children of the village

snowball fights are a must. he always ends up being roped into one by all the kids - which he has absolutely no issue with. he genuinely enjoys it, especially when he lands one at you and you join in

getting this guy to come back inside is genuinely like trying to drag a kid back home. he’s absolutely soaked and despite how damn warm he is all the time, he’ll definitely get sick - but he still won’t go inside

which is where your little charm has to come in - give him that look and ask him softly and he’ll drop the snow almost immediately and rush back home. he’s absolutely smitten and will do literally anything you ask of him

but despite his seemingly complete lack of care for his own wellbeing, he always wraps you up before leaving the house. he doesn’t want you getting ill!

one of the rare moments he’ll be silent as he’s focused on wrapping your scarf around you tightly yet not too tight and zipping your coat up. insists on slipping your gloves on for you

H. SEN

literally just an excuse to touch you more, under the pretense that he’s keeping you warm

hands are CONSTANTLY on you no matter what you’re doing, chest pressed up against your back - and once you ask him what the hell he’s doing, he simply says he’s sharing his body heat

which is sort of working

you wanna go out into the snow? yeah, sure, he knows how to warm you back up after if you get my drift

one thing he won’t do - ice skating

absolutely not, not happening. despite being light on his feet, ice skating is the one thing he can’t hack for the life of him. he’s tried, trust him and it quite literally never ends well for him

nothing can get done with him. you wanna build a snowman? okay, just don’t mind the constant slaps and pinches on your ass whenever you bend over to gather more snow. bake and decorate cookies? of course! just ignore the hands shamelessly roaming your body and pressing you up against the counter despite your constant nagging at him to give up and bake the damn cookies

what can he say? he can’t help himself

god does he love having you with him in winter

#ೃ⁀➷. olka’s bs #STOP I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO WRITE ABT #winter it is!! yay!!!#kengan ashura #kengan ashura x reader #kengan x reader #kenganverse #kengan omega #gaolang wongsawat x reader #gaolang wongsawat #tokita ohma x reader #ohma tokita #cosmo imai #saw paing yoroizuka #hatsumi sen #raian kure #raian x reader

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dreamtoge · 1 year ago

Text

Attention

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader

wc: 1.1k

a/n: apologies, i am a sucker for sleepy, clingy, cute gojo

When Satoru wants attention, he is obnoxious.

he will slither his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest without a care for those who are around. he will whine loudly, unashamed of the high pitched, "[Name], pay attention to me!" that falls from his pretty lips. he will even disrupt meetings and smoothly pull you into his lap, squeezing you close with a cheeky smile and reddened cheeks.

when Satoru wants attention, you give it to him.

when he wraps his arms around your torso tightly, you gently smile and kiss his cheek, ignoring the first-year students who groan loudly in distaste. when Satoru would verbally beg you to pay attention to him, you cup his face with the utmost care and pull him down, pecking his forehead as you whispered, "Baby, I love you, but please give me ten more minutes and I'm all yours." leaving him to nod with a slight pout and heated cheeks as he patiently waited till you were finished your task.

and despite the embarrassment of being pulled onto his lap during meetings, you would manage an abashed smile at the other teachers as you slipped into the same couch next to Satoru, hand finding his own as you intertwine your fingers and lift them, kissing the back of his hand as you gazed into his eyes.

he would sit silent for the remainder of the meeting.

so yes, Satoru Gojo was pesky and needy, but that was never a problem with you. in your eyes, he is more than just the strongest; Satoru has so much care to offer yet is simultaneously love-deprived. the calloused hands that itch to touch you, with a heart that craves affection are parts of Satoru that you cherish.

so perhaps that is why when you are asked, “How do you put up with him?” you smile fondly, because Satoru Gojo was simply Satoru with you. Satoru who cares, who loves, and who fights for what he believes is right. Satoru who protects, and does his best to help his students. Satoru who is still human at the end of the day, and deserves pure, genuine love like any ordinary person.

despite such an emotion being foreign to him growing up, he still yearns for it so desperately. Luckily, you find it easiest to love him.

“‘Toru? What’s wrong?” you whisper. the meeting with other teachers and the higher-ups is about to start, but you find yourself more concerned with the white-haired man next to you. he is smiling, but you can see the way the corner of his mouth twitches, the subtle crease in his forehead and the clench of his jaw that is normally lax.

he turns to you with his signature grin, “Nothing, my love! Just want this boring meeting to be over with already.” he whines slightly, causing Utahime beside you to scoff. you send her an apologetic smile before turning back to Satoru.

“It’ll be a quick meeting today,” you tuck a fallen strand of his hair behind his ear softly, “When it’s done, let’s go back to mine and nap?”

Satoru’s smile falters as he relaxes into the seat next to you. his forced expression is still there, though he seems calmer, “Of course! Anything you want, [Name]!”

the meeting begins, Satoru’s head turning to the front as your gaze lingers on the side of his face for a moment longer. you listen intently for the remainder of the time, but only after gently grasping his slender hand and caressing the back with your thumb. Satoru squeezes your hand in response, and you ignore the slight tremble you feel for his sake.

when the meeting ends, you are quick to grab Satoru’s arm and drag him out of there.

“So excited to cuddle you couldn’t wait a second longer?” he chuckles, amused.

you wrap your arm around his long one, looking up at him with a smile, “Yeah, actually. I miss you.” his face drops for a moment before his features smooth out.

“I miss you too. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.” you know he is serious by his tone, and the fact that he is apologizing makes you more worried about his well-being than before. you take out your keys, unlocking the door, and pulling him inside.

“No need to apologize, baby. I know you’re busy, just as I am. But it’s okay because we’re spending time together now!” you smile toothily at him, watching as he sighs with a small nod. you walk to your bedroom, rummaging through your drawers before throwing a comfortable pair of pants and t-shirt at him, “Change, and then get in the bed, please.”

his eyebrows raise at your bossiness, saluting you with a smirk before he leaves to change. when he comes back, you are already dressed laying in the bed, fresh clothes on and surrounded by the white fluffy comforter; Satoru finds the sight a little too tempting as he climbs in quickly.

he peels his mask off, running his hand through his hair before he lays next to you, face moving to kiss you softly.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close as he braces his arms on the sides of your shoulders, head dipping to meet your lips gently. you sink into the mattress beneath you, tracing your hands over his broad back as they make their way into his hair, tugging gently as he groans.

“Nap, remember?” you say out of breath. he exhales deeply above you, and as you gaze into his tired eyes, you know you need to get him to sleep.

“Nap. Right.” he smiles fondly, causing your stomach to swirl with joy. he moves to lay beside you once more, this time tucking his head in your neck as he wraps an arm around your torso, pulling you close. you run your hand through his hair as he closes his eyes, “Wanna talk about it, or sleep?”

while you can tell he is exhausted, you'd like a verbal confirmation of exactly what he needs.

Satoru doesn’t question the way you know something is wrong. you know him like the back of your hand, a fact that used to terrify him but only makes his heart jump now. and the notion of someone; you loving him so deeply still makes his breath stutter. he shifts, body moving to lay more on you, “Sleep now, talk later.” he pauses, “Please.”

you grin softly at his manners, “Okay, baby. Sleep, I’ll be here the whole time.” you feel him nuzzle your neck, pecking it with his soft lips as he nods.

“Love you.” he slurs sleepily, holding you closer when he feels you kiss his head, “I love you too, Satoru.”

so yes, Satoru Gojo was needy and craved attention. but that was okay with you, because you believed the whiny, affectionate man in your bed deserved all the love the world had to offer.

and fortunately for him, you would give him exactly that.

#gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #gojo x gender neutral reader

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chaoticgoodthief · 8 months ago

Text

STP Voices Personality Swap

Inspired completely by @remaking-machine's awesome AU! I decided to put my own twist on the idea and see how it turns out! (ramble under the cut so that my mutuals don't have to watch me go insane, as per usual)

Self-imposed rules:

Personalities swaps must be based off of this line (or at least my interpretation of it) to force me to think more about how that would even work:

Princesses must be kept as close to canon as possible. I would give a good reason but honestly, it's just more fun that way

Ok, without further ado, let's get started!

Hunted (swapped with Opportunist): Will be on whatever side keeps him alive. Will be completely on board with defeating the Beast since he knows he will die if he doesn't fight her. However, he drops all pretences the moment they aren't in danger of dying. All the other voices actually like him up until he drops the helpful act, which at that point they all immediately hate him for deceiving them. For the most part, acts similar to his canon counterpart but a lot shadier in a way that nobody else seems to notice.

Opportunist (swapped with Hunted): Treats the Witch like an ambush predator and thus always is correct about her next move. False bravado comes off like a prey animal puffing itself up to be more intimidating. Genuinely looking out for your survival, but generally disliked by the other voices for his flighty nature. Does not trust Thorn, but empathetic towards her pain. Generally acts very different from his canon counterpart, but his facade is a nearly eerie replica.

Skeptic (Swapped with Smitten): An seriously unhealthy amount of trust in the Prisoner and only the Prisoner. If she told you to stab yourself he would agree with her because he's that sure that she has a plan. Completely distraught in the Drowned Grey route because he knew she had a plan and it's all your fault for not believing in her like he did. It's actually creepy how easily Skeptic falls down the exact same path as canon Smitten after a personality swap. I love it.

Smitten (Swapped with Skeptic): Serious trust issues after being stabbed to death by the princess and locked away by the Narrator. Rather than you being the one to ask questions in the start of Chapter II, he will ask them before you get the chance. Since he will force you to grab the knife, there is a much higher chance of getting the Burned Grey route. Can be calmed down if you manage to get him to put his trust in the Damsel, but manoeuvring away from Deconstructed Damsel is also a lot harder due to his insistence to get answers. Somehow even more sceptical than canon Skeptic.

Stubborn (Swapped with Broken): Most downtrodden of the lot because of just how exhausted he is from the seemingly endless fighting. Even getting with him to the cabin is a pain due to his refusal to Do This. All the other voices think he's annoying and whiny, with only Contrarian vaguely getting along with him. Interrupts the Narrator's "You're here to -", with "Die. And die. And die again. And if we're lucky... die quickly." He's just as bad as canon Broken and it's so funny yet so sad at the same time.

Broken (Swapped with Stubborn): He's not physically strong in the slightest and failed to kill the princess once already, but this time he's going to win. Comes off as a yappy chihuahua trying to fight a lion. Again. However, he's actually on friendly terms with a good few of the other voices due to this. The Tower is vaguely amused by him up until the moment that he actually wins. And then? Then's she's pissed. Would be great friends with canon Stubborn, but only after proving himself in a fight.

Paranoid (Swapped with Cold): Turned off his emotions to focus on getting everyone out alive (think MoC Cold). Clipped, clinical tone for everything, including the Survival Mantra. Thinks the others don't appreciate him enough for the sacrifices he made in order to keep their body working. He is right. Completely numb to death in the MoC route to the point he doesn't even bother to use the Survival Mantra anymore, not that it matters at that point anyway. Very similar to canon Cold, but more apathetic than bored.

Cold (Swapped with Paranoid): Extremely superstitious, believing the princess to have cursed him with her death, which is only amplified when she returns as a ghost. Urges you not to touch the mirror because you might break it, begins talking about finding an exorcist if you let the Spectre possess you, refers to the Narrator as a malevolent spirit (I mean.... he isn't wrong), the whole shebang. I'm not going to lie, this one is honestly one of the funniest to me. Do not put in the same room as canon Paranoid. It will not end well for either of them.

Cheated (Swapped with Contrarian): Over the course of interacting with the Razor, he quickly starts just messing around after realising nothing he does matters. He treats the situation less and less seriously, to the point that he's making actively dumb decisions just to see how everyone reacts. Throw the blade of the window? Sure, why not? She'd kill us even if we had it! Throw her out of the window she's she's a bunch of blades now? Sure! Why not? She'll just come back, right?

Contrarian (Swapped with Cheated): Tried to get out and now look what's happened. Actively bitter about being trapped into a set path and determined to make it as much of a hell for everyone else as it is for him because of it. Curses like a sailor and is generally just So Done With This. He's not trapped with you. You're trapped with him and he will make everyone knows that. Will still try to make it up to the Stranger, the Hero and the player for his actions later on but does not hesitate to berate you for leaving him behind in the Stranger's cabin. Honestly, he's probably the closest to canon. Spicy Contrarian, if you will (get your mind out of the gutter not like that)

Hero remains the same, but his opinions about all the others are... very different, to say the least.

Phew, that was a lot of fun! Maybe I'll come back with a part two for SwapAU meets canon!

#slay the princess #slay the princess spoilers #alternate universe #rambles #stp rambles #voice of the hunted #voice of the opportunist #voice of the skeptic #voice of the smitten #voice of the stubborn #voice of the broken #voice of the paranoid #voice of the cold #voice of the cheated #voice of the contrarian

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ramblinscramblin · 2 months ago

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How would the mercs.. let's say – Demo, Snipes & Engineer act if they are father's? Your writing is really good!!

→Mercs as fathers!

Genre: fluff

Characters: Sniper, Demoman, Engineer

Hi anon! I wrote for a prompt pretty similar to this, so you can check that out too if it interests you! That being said I will still drop a few headcanons here! Enjoyyy!

Sniper

Sniper had a relatively good upbringing, so he is well adjusted enough to make a good father.

Still pretty anxious that he’s doing everything wrong.

Is honestly just afraid that his kid will turn out to be antisocial like him and be outcast, he prompts them to get involved in extracurricular activities often. Won’t force them though.

Sniper is very supportive of his kids, if they have some strange fixation/interest he will do anything to make sure they can continue with it. Will also try and get into it himself so he can bond with his kids.

Most of his fatherly love is shared in quality time, he likes to spend most of his hours with his kids even in silence, he just loves them so much.

Protective papa bear, this much we know.

Doesn’t let his kids around the other mercs, thinks their crazy will rub off on them.

Engineer

As I have said before I think he would make a really great dad.

Teaches his kids very hands on life skills, they must know how to fix a car at least.

Likes cooking them breakfast in the morning, as I feel like bacon and eggs is like one of the only things he can actually successfully cook.

Supportive, doesn’t really care about anything so long as his kids are happy and safe.

Likes to have his kids with him while he works, it’s important quality time for him and it keeps him from getting too sucked into what he’s working on.

All the other mercs become what is essentially uncles to his kids, he brings them around semi often. He understands it’s dangerous work though so he doesn’t let them get too involved.

He loves it if his kids turn out to be very artistic, might try and teach them all music, wants them to try at least one instrument for a year to see if they like it.

He’s got this father thing down.

Demoman

He’s got a lot of issues to work out before he can become a father.

I do feel like being a dad would really put his life in order though, he would definitely drink a lot less. He doesn’t want his kids to be an all messed up from having a drunk dad.

Wants his kids to feel connected to their Scottish roots, frequent visits to keep them immersed in the culture.

They spend a lot of time with grandma, she absolutely adore them to the moon and back, Tavish has to fight her at the end of the night to get them back. They often whine because they want to stay with grandma.

Demoman likewise keeps the other mercs in his children’s lives, he genuinely believes them to be good role models. Well most of them anyways.

Is the super playful dad, think Bandit Heeler from Bluey. Will go to insane lengths to make sure his kids are having fun, even at the risk of embarrassing himself.

Urges his kids to be involved in some kind of sport or extracurricular, he wants them to have structure.

Can’t cook for shit, so he takes them to diners and restaurants frequently. They love it though so there’s no harm, it’s good quality time.

His kids are rambunctious but so is he, so he’s got this.

Thanks for your request! Short and sweet, I love these guys so mucchhh.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper #headcanon

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yeen-meteor · 1 year ago

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I want to take a moment to try to express why i appreciate Haru's sadism as an actual serious part of her characterization and not just a funny contrast joke and 'yay girl violence!' don't get me wrong i love me some yay girl violence for the sake of it, but like. i think there's a lot to work with there for genuine drama writing, too, not just comic relief and i want to talk about it! (cw sugimura)

for all of haru's backstory and her life with her father, sure she's rich and has a lot of privileges, but the one thing she completely lacks is any sort of control. Everything about her life is being decided for her, her father has decided on the shape of her entire future, and she can't do anything to change it - she's being raised just for the sake of being outright sold as a sex slave trophy wife to a perverted creep who is certainly too rich and powerful to ever face legal trouble for marital rape. She's going through the motions, enjoying what she can of the life she has while she still has it, completely hopeless in the face of this horrifying future that other people are forcing her into. Her will means nothing, what she wants means nothing.

And then the Phantom Thieves come along, and they give her the power to make her will matter, to fight for her own freedom and happiness. And that power comes in the shape of violence, physically fighting images of all the things and people standing in her way.

But more than that, she starts to feel 'shivers of excitement' when she hears shadows begging and pleading beneath her. She feels what it's like to have something absolutely, pathetically desperate to make her stop, to deny her what she wants - and to bask in the feeling that she doesn't have to listen, she's the strong one, she can shut them the fuck up with an axe through the skull because their will, their selfish desire, their plan for her doesn't matter anymore, her will, Haru's will matters. It's catharsis, it's intoxicating, it's a rich and indulgent feeling of real actual control and the freedom that comes with it, something she's been denied all her life, and it's probably an unhealthy way to get that feeling but who cares? these are just shadows!

And that catharsis and relief and self-assured confidence she gets from that just makes her better able to be her sweetest, kindest, purest self around the people she loves! It doesn't undermine the sweet person she is, it helps it!

And then, she makes the choice to try to cure her father's brain-rotting greed and see if there's anything worth salvaging in his heart. It might not be the best choice, it could certainly be argued about, but it's her choice, it's her will, and she finally, finally feels like she's able to make that mean something-

and Akechi takes the choice away from her, and forces her to live in the future he decided for her.

I think when people write the dynamic between Akechi and Haru, they can sometimes miss the forest for the trees - 'you killed my father', without the underlying 'this was the first time i believed i ever had a choice in my own life, and you took it away from me and fucking crushed it before my eyes'. I've also seen it done very well too, and I love it! but i think a lot of writers are sleeping on the potential a bit, of haru & akechi focused stories, or even of haru as a source of drama and an interesting supporting character in shuake stories. In general, haru's potential for anger, frustration, violent desires and just a need to feel in control of her own life has a lot of potential in drama writing!

Atlus certainly dropped the ball on the akechi and haru dynamic, and kept the sadism thing as mostly comic relief, but Persona canons are all half-realized outlines of good ideas just begging for fic writers to come and actually flesh them out, anyway, so ah well!

all i hope for is that if you're a persona writer that doesn't know what to do with haru or how to use her, or doesn't pay her much mind, maybe this might inspire you or give you a clearer idea of how to write her dramatic side!

#persona 5 #haru okumura #goro akechi #i love haru so much because i also had a guro phase and a learned helplessness trauma phase at the same time lmao #send me good haru drama if you know of it or write it! <3

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paddysol · 4 months ago

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unstable universe is unstabling my universe p1

Everyone say thank you Pluto for encouraging my insanity! Please note I'm solely discussing Wemmbu’s character (and PrinceZam somewhat) in Unstable Universe from a lore standpoint. (This will be a mix of my own hc and how Ive perceived the events on the server- also i've literally only watched Wemmbu and am doing this from memory so bear with me)

God I have so many thoughts on UU!Wemmbu (and Mutiny Duo) dear lord. Like, the necessity of constantly being forced to put up a front due to the hunger games-esque environment of the server, the paranoia that has you looking over your shoulder, presenting yourself as a threat, making sure that you can back that statement as much as you can because if you’re seen as weak then you’re might as well dead.

We see this in Wemmbu who, let's all be honest with ourselves, cares about the people around him (obviously to a degree, bc of the nature of the server) and the struggle between showing that care and taking care of himself. Like, the amount of times Wemmbu has threatened to ban someone and yet never followed through is Crazy. This man literally has never carried through with a death threat, and the reason why no one realizes that is because of the “infallible” persona he plays up, and his team-up with Zam’s crusade where they chunk-banned several players. Chunk-bans!! A temporary removal!! Someone needs to call him out for his empty threats. This man literally jumped into an arena to save Roshambo from FlameFrags because it was a losing battle and Roshambo was in danger of getting death-banned. He didn't need to. He already confirmed ManePear’s information and solidified their allyship. He didn't need to stick around. He didn't need to put himself in danger. Wemmbu knows he can't fight Flame and win, he actively compensates for those situations and avoids them without extensive planning Because he knows that.

(Note: I am aware that he killed Tyrad, but consider that was a 3? 4? vs 1 fight on a server where players expect you to fight tooth and nail to live whether it be through totems, stasis chambers, escape, etc. When Wemmbu drops Tyrad there was genuine shock, muted or not. He didn't expect someone to Actually die. Reflecting on it is obviously not an option, he’s in the middle of breaking into a prison with several guards on his tail. Guards, who mind you, are stocked with the necessary effects for a fight. Additionally, when engaging in pvp Wemmbu tends to fight with the intention of escape, not actually killing his opponent.)

Of course, despite the violent nature of UU, developing a genuine relationship with other players is inevitable. Wemmbu makes several comments about ‘if he wanted to play alone, he'd load a single-player world.’ (Obviously a bit meta, but you know what I’m getting at.) And we see him do that. I’m mostly going to be focusing on PrinceZam and Eggchan as those (at least to me) are the most developed relationships, but there are hints of thought and care aimed at players we don't see too often.

As I mentioned before, there's a struggle to show genuine care for a person on a server that will see that as a weakness and immediately exploit it. And we see that struggle between Zam and Wemmbu, who, despite consistently being at odds with each other, find satisfaction in that relationship. Sure, both of them are walking red flags, but there is genuine care in how they feel about each other, even if they're constantly holding back in order to maintain whatever image they've created for themselves. They're rivals. They constantly snarking, they're at each other's throats, they call out for each other in a fight, they make sure they have a full inventory (potions, gaps, enchant bottles, etc). They dress their worry with a lackadaisical attitude and are steadfast in believing that it's just that, even when their actions become entirely unnecessary. Wemmbu had a monopoly on the elytra, makes a point about it, yet easily gives one to Zam at the most logical opportunity (and then proceeds to give literally all of them to him sir wtf?? Crazy behavior I would never). Zam allows Wemmbu to treat him as someone other than a king, he lets him use the mace even if he was the one who got the heavy core; he trusts Wemmbu to have his back. Wemmbu traded the mace for Zam’s life not even knowing if it would work. They show love in the only way the server allows. And sometimes that care becomes too genuine, and they force themselves to pull back.

“I’d never betray you- unless it's convenient.”

To reiterate, both Wemmbu and Zam have a plethora of issues, both are incredibly unreliable narrators who barely trusted each other but got very close. “I’d never betray you,” Wemmbu was too honest, that’s dangerous. “Unless it's convenient,” while definitely holding a modicum of truth, the statement feels so tacked on. Letting players know that you're attached to someone or something? Hell no. But even if he didnt mean it entirely and was mostly trying to save face (dare I say warn Zam from getting close?) he still said it. And of course Zam, who came from nothing and has built an empire, who has successfully worked to become someone who cannot be taken advantage of, who knows exactly how soft his underbelly and how to ensure no one else finds out, fixates on that. How can’t he? This is a man who, with every step, is looking back and allowing his history to haunt him. This is something that clashes so loudly with Wemmbu, who can't afford to think about the past, who can only change the present, who must persevere forward. Until Zam blows up the kingdom he asked Wemmbu to build.

(Note: This analysis? Idk what im doing anymore im just yapping- Is more focused on Wemmbu than Zam, but I am aware that he likely has own complicated perspective that plays into his actions.)

At first the change in their relationship is subtle, small shows of power from Zam, a reminder that he is a king. Then it becomes sickly familiar tactics, tactics that Wemmbu has always accompanied, never faced. Their rivalry turned sour, every interaction they have haunted with what used to be. Wemmbu, who cares so much, watches the physical manifestation of his loyalty to Zam be blown up and thrown in his face, ‘my sweet, sweet Wemmbu’. He was used, manipulated, underestimated by someone who he, against all odds, cared for. Hate begins to fester, Wemmbu calls it a betrayal. You can't betray someone who didn't mean anything to you first.

And then we’re able to witness unfiltered care between Wemmbu and Eggchan. We watch the pretense of the “infallible” player fall as he dresses himself in diamond, giving the netherite to his friend instead. As he ensures Egg’s safety in his schemes, as he trusts Egg to have his back, takes fights he knows he cant take so that Egg has more time to get out. And that loyalty is reciprocated tenfold. Egg is allowed numerous opportunities to leave, yet he chooses to stay despite the hardships. It's everything that was just out of reach for Zam and Wemmbu. (There's definitely a lot more to talk about but this is already gonna be so long). Egg won't stand by as his friend begins to come undone at the seams. He wont play into the cutthroat game this server has spun itself into. Which of course has consequences. While off on their chunk-banning crusade Zam and Wemmbu inevitably learned what made the other person tick. Kidnapping Egg was just another move on the chessboard bc god forbid that even if they hate each other, they take their eyes off each other for a second.

This functions as the last straw, one last ditch attempt from Wemmbu in his war with Zam, he can't promise success but he sure as hell makes sure that he hits where it hurts. He blows his kingdom sky-high. And eye for an eye and a debt settled.

And then Zam apologizes. It's not necessarily out of the blue, for all the hurt he’s enacted on Wemmbu he's kept him alive for one reason or another (they are emotionally constipated dumbasses who care about each other and refuse to admit it). This changes everything and nothing. Despite the genuine admittance of grief and regret, the two don't pull their punches. They can only guess how many totems they've popped and how many are left. They switch foils. For a brief moment Zam does not allow his past to haunt him, ‘I don't want to accidentally kill you.’ Wemmbu, for all his persevering, for all his ability to focus on what he can do now, cannot let go of their past. For the first time, Wemmbu does want to kill a player.

We’ll never find out if he wouldve carried through.

(ending this now bc this is too long and i have even more to say about the prison eps tbh, havent written in out yet tho T-T)

#scared to make this post btw lmao #i probably misunderstood a couple of events but thats ok #i find enjoyment in this and thats what matters #tee hee #anyways actual tags #paddy.rambles #unstable universe #wemmbu #unstableverse #princezam #eggchan #mutiny duo

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brenhotapplepies · 8 months ago

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Seen some stuff about Astrid being problematic in the same breath as praising Essek. I know media literacy is tough, but let’s examine.

How is Astrid problematic and Essek isn’t? They both are manipulative when it’s called for. Both are capable of lying, killing, and other untold horrors. Both are incredibly powerful.

One has had a lonely by choice and privileged life as the weird but useful son of the head of a Den.

One has had their identity stripped from them in a way that combines the worst of cults and the military. Tortured, experimented on, changed in ways we don’t even know the extent of.

One has had the pressure of his Den, his mother, his father, his brother, his whole community pressing on him his whole life. He stepped up into the air and took the weight as if it was effortless. He focused his life on study because it was the only thing that gave him worth in this society and it was genuinely what he enjoyed, whatever enjoyment was for him then. He had access to materials, books, almost anything.

One has had the pressure of her community, her background, in her face as she tried to beat the odds. The expectations for her were nothing, but she said fuck that. She studied with nothing, clawed her way into the venerated halls of higher magic learning. She does everything for the Empire, for Trent. She wants success for herself, because that is what gets her approval, keeps her safe.

One is in a position of power in his society. He has the ability to pull strings. He doesn’t think about how his actions impact his community or really anything besides himself. Sure maybe he wants to find something to impair the religion in the region, but it feels like even that starts out as a quest to prove himself right. His life is largely his own, despite the derision of some.

One is continuously tortured, tested, forced to PROVE herself. Cut her hair, stomp out any resistance to her mentor through any means necessary. Find some solace in their two peers. Made to kill their family to prove themselves based on a lie. She is conditioned to fight because who else will protect her country in the dirty, dark ways she has to? She is trying to salvage her sacrifices into a purpose. Bren is one of those sacrifices.

One kills indiscriminately if they get in his way. The man the Nein dropped off at the peace talks? I still remember how sad it was as he tried to piece together his broken mind, a mind Essek broke to save himself.

One kills for their country. Follows orders, kills when they find it necessary to protect those who cannot protect themselves. This is what she believes.

One GAVE AWAY a powerful religious artifact to HIS PEOPLE’S ENEMY. The intent was purely selfish curiosity.

One helped protect and study that artifact to PROTECT her country. The intent is curiosity to assist in her job, protect her country.

One finds the strength to allow himself to be loved and have friends after years of solitude. Because he just never was so fully loved. He finds the strength to let the ultimate time travel power and the knowledge that he was right go. To become comfortable with time he has left.

One finds the strength to listen to one of the only real, genuine relationships she’s ever had. Her first love. A reminder of her younger, hopeful self. She changes. She realizes the lies she’s allowed herself to believe. She finds the strength to not kill her torturer just to kill him. She finds the strength to testify. To promise that no other kids will suffer. Justice. To become comfortable with the time she has left.

One is a he.

One is a she/they.

I wonder what the issue is.

These characters are two sides of the same coin. They are both INCREDIBLY WELL THOUGHT OUT characters. They are more than just paramours of Caleb Widogast.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr2 #cr3 #astrid becke #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #shadowgast #widobecke #character analysis

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sunonyoreface · 3 months ago

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He Knows - Simon "Ghost" Riley Pt. 21

Word count: 5589

Warnings: minors dni, angst, military setting, explicit language, use of weapons, mentions of injuries and death.

My feelings towards Price are continuously conflicted. On one hand, he’s been very generous throughout my stay with 141. He seems to trust my word at face value and has offered me protection with Soap and Ghost. He also seemed genuinely impressed with my work as a translator, and then again with my performance on the phone with my father.

On the other hand, he is the entire reason I’m here. Sure, Ghost arranged everything, but Price is the man behind every step 141 takes. Nothing is done without his permission. My existence is simply a form of currency to him. My value relies on how much my father is willing to sacrifice for me. Markets are rarely stable in times of war. One wrong move, and the stock will tank faster than in 1929. I feel the dip approaching like a rollercoaster at the top of a hill. Imminent.

As he stands in front of me, Price has a welcoming presence, despite all of the atrocities he’s committed. Despite everything he has put me through to gain the upper hand on my father. Despite everything he is going to put me through.

His voice is soft as he speaks. We’re alone in my quarters. He leans against the dresser as I sit in bed with my legs pulled to my chest.

“We identified another rat,” a double agent. Another one of their supposedly well-vetted men who turned out to be a terrorist in disguise. His shoulders remain rigid and his arms cross over his chest. “He was in our transportation unit,” Price continues.

I search my mind for some of the faces I’ve come to recognize. There are too many to remember. I don’t know if I’ve even talked to any of the task force members in that unit. Everyone I know is an extension of Soap’s circle.

“What happened to him?” I ask.

“Nothing yet,” he answers. “We can’t risk tipping off the ultranationalists or the exchange being called off,” his thick English accent reminds me of a misty, fall day spent at a café. It’s cold, but there’s also something comforting about it - about him.

It makes sense how the ultranationalists always knew where we were. The mole could’ve tapped the vehicle GPS or tipped them off about which bases we were at. All of those attacks couldn’t have succeeded without him.

“Are there more of them?”

“Rats don’t lie alone,” there’s an underlying tone of disgust in his otherwise reserved voice. His message is loud and clear and more unnerving than ever. The men in 141 are even less trustworthy than I originally thought. “But I didn’t stop to visit about pest control.”

The air feels colder as the words leave his lips. My breathing pauses and the false ease of our conversation drops away like a theatre curtain.

“It’s happening, isn’t it?”

“Affirmative,” he confirms.

“When?” my soft voice is urgent.

“In fifteen minutes someone will drop off your gear. In forty-five you’ll get on the van. And in one hour we depart,” My chest clenches and I feel a nervous ball form in my stomach. I can’t believe how fast this is all happening. I’m not ready. I don’t have a plan to save myself if this all goes south. He doesn’t care if I live. Neither does my father. He might say he does, but he doesn’t, not really. I’m just an excuse for them to meet head to head. Just an excuse for them to pick a fight with one another. They don’t care what happens to me. Only I do. Price watches my reaction closely. I can tell he half-heartedly expects a breakdown.

“Will Soap come get me?”

“Soap’s team left an hour ago,” they’re gone already? Why’d they leave so early? Why aren’t they all leaving together? I know the answer I’ll get if I ask these questions. I turn my attention back to the exchange.

“What’ll happen when we get there?” Price shifts his weight. He’s a busy man. He doesn’t have additional time to stand here and let me quiz him.

“We’re meeting at an old landing strip in the forest just past the Russian boarder. The exchange will happen in the clearing. Only a few of us will be there for the handoff: Ghost, myself, and a couple other sergeants. The rest will be waiting in the surrounding woods on our side. But they won’t be alone. The ultranationalists will have men waiting on their side of the woods. In the event that this all goes South, you’re going to retreat to the defilade,” he takes a decisive step away from the dresser with his feet pointed towards the door. I don’t have much time to get any other information from him.

“Wait what’s a defilade?” the word stumbles across my lips.

“The men in the trees,” Price pauses. Like always he has the army green hat on his head and is dressed in partial camoflauge. “y/n, I’m not saying it’ll turn into a dogfight, but your father doesn’t exactly have the best track record. Be prepared for that possibility.”

I heed his warning closer than anything else he’s said all morning. Why is Price going through with this if he thinks its going to go to shit?

“I’ll see you soon enough,” There’s a knowing look to his face. Maybe it’s the way his eyes slightly squint or the ghost of a smile that tugs at his lips. It ambiguous. Comforting yet concerning.

Sure enough, within fifteen minutes, a member of the task force drops off a bullet proof vest and new clothes to change into. She is tall and wears a uniform almost identical to the one passed onto me.

“Once you’re dressed, I’ll escort you to transportation,” her voice is low and confident. There’s something reassuring about her presense and I’m just glad it isn’t Bennet or one of his friends taking me there.

After hastily throwing on the tactical gear and bulletproof vest, there’s still a piece of fabric sitting on my bed. When I pick it up I recognize the familiar black, fabric bag from several weeks ago. They’re blindfolding me again. Its eerily soft between my clenched fingers. I can’t fucking believe they’re doing this to me again. After everything, why now?

If Ghost was here, would he make me wear it too? Or is this all Price’s doing?

Her firm hand rests on my upper arm as she leads me throughout the compound. Soon the smell of gas filters through the mask and I hear the rumble of multiple engines. People are talking. Orders are barked from one person to the next. Gear is being loaded onto vehicles. Metal clinks and clashes against each other. Everything is in motion.

And then I hear his voice.

Ghost’s distinct tone cuts clearly through the air. It’s powerful and travels with a force that is impossible to ignore. I can pinpoint the exact moment he notices me. The orders he’s giving briefly falter. Then he’s approaching the sergeant and informing her he’s got it from here.

His strong hand replaces her’s. I imagine the warmth of Ghost’s hand through his glove and my sleeve. Ghost’s chest brushes against my shoulder as he leans down to speak. I blindly await his words, only imagining what we look like to the rest of the soldiers. Will they even notice or are they too preoccupied right now?

“You’re riding with me. Don’t say anything. The blindfold will come off once we arrive,”

“Where is th-“

“Don’t. Speak.” Ghost lowly cuts me off.

The van reminds me of the one before. Similarily, I think we’re strapped in against the walls of the vehicle. But I can’t tell for sure.

Ghost quickly buckles me in. His fingers are fast, yet cautious. He takes care not to pinch my skin between the clasps. For a second it almost feels like he’s lingering just to touch me longer. My remaining anger towards him melts for a moment. In a strange environment where I’m stripped of my senses, he’s the only thing that’s familiar. He’s the only one I might just be able to trust.

There are low murmurs amongst the other task members, but not the cheerful kind like before. These are the types of conversations reserved for before high-risk missions. Conversations that hum just above a whisper. They know not everyone will return. You can hear it in their voices.

The van rocks back and forth as we drive. Ghost’s thigh presses against my own. I melt into his side. The firmness of his strength is a reassuring senestion. My hand rests between our legs as my thumb gently traces back and forth along his pantleg. I wonder if he can feel it? I wonder if he knows how this is going to end?

The terrain progressively deteriorates from pavement to gravel to dirt to something far more unpredictable. When the van suddenly stops there’s a split second of absolute stillness. It only lasts for a single breath. Then, it’s go time.

The clicking sounds of seatbelts fill the air. Orders are reaffirmed down the line. Shuffling bodies exit the van. Cold air wafts through the doors.

The blindfold is harshly yanked off my head. Ghost’s calm eyes latch onto mine. In the sea of chaos flowing around us, he remains anchored.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Ghost only nods once, his eyes telling me all I need to know.

Thick forest surrounds us as teams of armed men meticulously clear the surrounding area. It’s daylight, but the shadows of the trees make it feel like dusk. The snow crunches under my feet and bitter air bites at my skin as visible clouds form when I exhale. We’re back in Russia. Ultranationalist territory.

Price appears from another van followed by a formation of armed men who surround Ghost and myself.

“We’re clear. Their men have claimed their half and the rest are waiting on the flat.”

“How many?” Ghost asks, his hand is glued to the automatic riffle clipped to his vest. His eyes continuously scan the area for threats. Everyone is on high alert. Something is happening behind the scnenes that I don’t know about. I can just tell.

“Half a dozen,” Price responds.

“Beyond the zone of action?”

“TAC estimates about fifty,” Price’s attention is entirely on Ghost. He trusts his opinion more than anyone else on the task force.

“We’re outnumbered,” Ghost’s jaw clenches under the skull mask. His response is short and matter-of-fact. He doesn’t like this. “Update on demolitions?”

“They’re ready,” Price smirks knowingly. What the hell have they got planned? Where is Soap?

Ghost processes what Price has just said. Despite his hesitancy he seems to find some reassurance in Price’s words.

“Right. Y/n,” my eyes are already on Price. “When we go out there, you stay in the detail circle until instructed otherwise. Keep your act up. Sell it to your father. If something happens, retreat to the West side of the flat,” his instructions echo between my ears. This is real. This is happening.

“Affirmative,” I force my chin up.

Then like no time has passed at all, we march as a unit through the trees into a long opening. It’s an old landing strip once used for planes with an abandoned hangar at the far side of the field. The sun gleams through the opening in the trees and reflects off the snow. The brightness hurts my eyes at firt, but then as they adjust, I see several men gathered at a table in the center of the air strip. Its them. It’s him.

Fear pummels through my veins. It’s violent and demands my attention. Every sense feels heightened. Dread fills my body and weighs me down like iron restraints.

It takes everything I have to push myself forward. Every action feels forced. Snow sinks up to my shins as we walk, adding extra resistance. The space is large, spanning multiple football fields. I feel their eyes on us from a hundred meters away. I don’t think I can stomach seeing my father after everything.

The tension is killing me.

Four men surround me as Price and Ghost lead them towards the group. The Ultranationalists have more men at their station, but some of them must be the prisoners theyre supposed to exchange.

At least that’s what I think until Price clears his throat. “You’re missing three sergeants,” His voice sounds different than I’m used to: louder, demanding, dangerous.

“No one’s missing, Captain Price.” My father’s all too familiar voice reaches my ears. “I assume it’s Captain Price, you didn’t exactly leave room for introductions.” it’s warm and relaxed. “They’re resting just beyond the treeline. We only wanted to garuntee your honest intentions before bringing them out,” he sounds completely in control, with his attention completely on Price. It gives me a moment to really look at him.

I haven’t seen my father in weeks and while he looks exactly the same, I can barely recognize the man in front of us. His beard is longer, but still well groomed. He’s dressed in dark greens and greys, the same as the other Ultranationalists. A toque covers his head and a warm winter jacket is hugged by a bullet proof vest. A chest holster hides a gun while his hands remain open and falsely inviting. His eyes look darker than normal. He must be tired. Or maybe it’s hidden rage that gives them that look. I can’t tell anymore. He isn’t the person I once thought I knew, that much is certain.

Our eyes meet and my blood runs cold.

“Dad?” my voice croaks. Price’s reminder to play into the traumatized daughter act weighs on my shoulders. Suspicious eyes square me up from every angle. There isn’t a single person here who fully trusts me. One wrong word and we could all end up dead.

“Y/n?” his brows furrow as his head cranes in my direction. “Y/n, are you okay? Just be patient darling, you’ll be safe soon,” I note how he chooses his words to influence my emotions. How many times has he done this before without me noticing?

“Right, lets cut to the chase then, bring the rest of my men out and she’s all yours,” Price says. I watch as my father eyes him up for a second and then nods in agreement. He barks an order in Russian to one of the men behind him who repeats it into a transmitter.

Then Price steps to the side, opening up a hole in the baracade of men surrounding me. Ghost does the same as he turns and our eyes lock. Under the skull mask I see his lower lids tense with suspicion. He doesn’t trust the Ultranationalists. Every person here has conflicting goals and values. No one is safe.

I can’t look at him for long. Beyond them, someone else expects me.

I take off running into his arms and hot, genuine tears fall from my eyes and freeze to my cheeks. As his arms wrap around me, I can’t hide the shudder of terror that ripples down my spine. It’s becoming harder and harder to separate my father from his actions. When I close my eyes, I see the footage of him ordering the execution of hundreds of vulnerable people. “I’m scared, Dad,” the hushed truth leaves my lips and brushes against the fabric of his coat. He doesn’t react to my words.

“Those aren’t my men,” A type of hollow furry reverberates through Price’s chest. A realization. A confirmation. They let me go too soon. Now I’m in my father’s arms, while the men marching towards them are more Ultranationalists. Not the taken 141 soldiers.

“Oh, don’t worry about them,” he says with his arms still wrapped around me,” as I look over his soulder and past his soldiers, I see more men dressed in grey and green emerge past the treeline and stalk in our direction, guns in hand.

I hear Ghost whisper something into his com. I wonder how many guns are trained on us right now? How many snipers are hidden in the trees waiting for clearance?

“You don’t get to change the conditions of the exchange last minute.”

“I suppose you’re right. That’s not normally how we do things,” my father finally releases me from the hug. His leather glove wipes the tears from my face. The empty, almost irritated look in his eyes tells me he isn’t satisfied. “We don’t typically go through the effort of an exchange. However, Captain Price, these are unique circumstances. Yet, I can’t help the feeling that you are getting a better deal than we are. Look at all these men you’re getting. They’re incredibly valuable to us. They know a lot of information. Information that could hurt a lot of people. Not to mention your men who will be returned to you, once we adjust our terms, of course.”

“Is her life not valuable enough to you?” Ghost’s voice booms across the snow. It’s the first time he’s spoken since arriving. His official introduction to my father. In another life, I wonder if they’d like each other?

“Of course it is,” he brings a hand to his heart and holds onto my arm with the other. It isn’t. I feel his grip tighten. “But that doesn’t mean this is a fair trade,” My stomach drops. He just confirmed everything I’ve feared without directly saying it. My life doesn’t matter as much as having an advantage on 141. He wants more. That greedy fucking bastard.

“What is then?” Price demands.

“You,” he answers. “And several lieutenants. Then we’re getting somewhere.”

“Negative. Never going to fucking happen. Get that through your thick, Russian skull,” large clouds form in plumes as Price’s burning words meet the arctic air. I sense the tension rising as more Ultranationalists approach the group. We were already outnumbered. Now it’s at least two to one. Why haven’t they called backup yet?

“It will. Wilingly or not,” there it is. The underlying threat of violence that has simmered just under the surface of this entire meeting has finally emerged. The Ultranationalists are more than willing to fight. Maybe they’re even counting on it.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Price sneers. I spare a glance in Ghost’s direction to find his eyes already on me. They’re unreadable. He’s never felt so far away.

“Yeah? What’s that?” my father’s cocky voice bites back. This entire time I feel his hands tighten around my arm as though my winter jacket isn’t there. The heavy vest weighs me down. The cold air hurts my skin. Everything feels off. And just when my attention is focused on every uncomfortable detail, Price’s words cut through the air with such clarity they almost don’t sound real.

“If you don’t follow through with our original deal, your wife will die.”

I feel my father freeze. His molten iron grip solidifies. At the same time my heart drops and it feels like I’m falling. My mom? 141 has my mom? My eyes flicker to Ghost, but he won’t look at me. He lied to me. Again. He fucking lied. Ghost had every opportunity to tell me and he didn’t. My cheeks flush with betrayal. After all this time… How could I be so stupid to trust him?

“That’s impossible,” for the first time, my father looks genuinely rattled. The Ultranationalists were supposed to have a team in New York to protect her. She would be almost untouchable. Yet, Price reaches into a large pouch on his vest and pulls out a tablet. On the screen is a livestreamed video of my mom tied to a chair in our family livingroom. The surge of panick that courses through my veins is indescribable.

Somehow, they did it.

“Go get my men,” Price lowly orders and I don’t doubt for a second he’d kill me or my mom to get what he wants. It’s a terrifying realization. He is willing to do anything to protect his task force. All notions of morals and ethics fly out the door when it comes to his men. Bennet was right. I’m not safe with them.

More orders fly out of my father’s mouth in Russian which are then repeated through the transmitter. All eyes are on the treeline waiting for the captured task force members to emerge.

I can’t bring myself to look at Ghost again. Not after this. Not after such a devastating betrayal.

Just as they emerge from the trees, a popping noise behind us in the distance snags my attention. I turn my head just before the men do, seeing nothing. But that noise, that unmistakable noise can only be one damning thing.

Just like that, all bets are off the table.

I’m yanked behind the line of Untranationalists as each side raises their weapons at each other. The line hudles together and pushes back towards the trees as men from each side scream orders and threats at each other.

Over the shoulders of the Ultranationalists, I briefly see the six task members shift into formation, covering all angles. Price yells out something about their men and I realize they didn’t get ahold of the promised Ultranationalists or their captured soldiers. They are leaving completely empty handed, with the exception of my mom. If this doesn’t turn around, they’ll kill her. Nausea floods my stomach. I feel the blood leave my face. If I wasn’t being pushed back by my father, I would be sick right now.

The distinct sounds take me back to the night the Ultranationalists ambushed 141’s base. I’d never heard gunfire so close before, but that’s nothing compared to now. What once originated on the other side of the field, now sounds to be only meters away.

Price said if I get the chance, to escape to the West side, but right now, that’s impossible. And if I’m being honest, I don’t know that it’s any safer than being with my father. Nowhere is safe. The forest is crawling with armed men and even if I did escape, everyone would be looking for me and I don’t have anything to defend myself with.

“They’re moving forward!” I hear someone yell in Russian. We’re just entering the treeline as more men flood around us and then break into smaller groups. Everything is so completely chaotic and yet seemingly rehersed.

My lungs burn and for a moment I forget how cold it is outside. Adrenaline and panic fight with eachother as I try to distinguish what to focus on. So much is happening. I completely forget about my father’s grip on my arm.

“Y/n,” he braces my shoulders, encouraging me to look at him. His eyes are wide with excitement. I feel like I’m going to be sick looking at him. “Everything is going to be alright dear, we’ll escape to the trucks. Alright? Just follow me, okay?” I manage a small nod.

I’m yanked forward as we run through the trees. The group of men with us switched from those on the field and now there are only four additional Ultranationalists escorting us. I don’t know how long my father pulls me along for. It feels like miles and hours, but can’t be more than a few minutes.

A loud eruption shakes the ground as snow and dirt fly through the air and a tree crashes beside us. Holy fuck, that was close.

Smoke clouds the air as people shout and bullets fly. The scene can only be described as a deadly, gorilla clusterfuck with the goal of taking out as many people from the other side as possible. We are in an incredibly dangerous position.

Just as the thought crosses my mind, one of the escorts is shot in the leg and drops to the ground. Red stains the snow around him. My father yells in Russian to keep going.

We weave through the thick pines and any sense of direction I once had is gone. My heart thunders in my chest.

A loud shot rings through the air and another Ultranationalist drops to the ground. A second shot sends a bullet through his skull.

Someone is following us. Stalking us. Toying with us. My gut turns.

For a second, I wonder if it’s a sniper.

Then, a knife comes flying through the air, lodging itself into the back of the third of my father’s men.

It’s in this moment, I know exactly who is after us. After me.

The last soldier turns around and fires blindly into the trees behind us. As soon as his clip is empty and he pauses to reload, a single bullet pummels through the trees and it too, pierces his skull and stains the snow a brilliant red. His body slumps to the ground with a muffled thump.

My father pushes us behind the trunk of a large tree and grips his handgun in both hands. He doesn’t need to tell me to be quiet. I don’t think I could make a sound if I tried.

The sounds of gunfire and explosions echo in the distance, but there’s nothing close to us like there was before. The majority of the fighting is taking place closer to the air strip.

The only place Ghost ever struggled with stealth, is in the snow. There’s no technology in the world that’ll muffle the sound of his footsteps strategically approaching the tree we’re hiding behind. You can hear the frigidness in the air as the crunching snow gets louder. He’s close.

“Throw your weapons to the side of the tree and then slowly step out with your hands in the air,” Ghost’s demanding voice fills the air. A dissatisfied grumble ripples through my father’s chest. I shift to move from behind the tree and a large hand snags the back of my vest, pulling me back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses.

I bite my tongue. He doesn’t know Ghost like I do. There’s no escaping him. The best I can hope for is that he doesn’t want to kill either of us.

“I won’t repeat myself,” his voice sounds closer already. I can imagine him on the other side of the tree with his assault riffle pointed in our direction. Part of me wants to believe he wouldn’t fire on us. But I honestly don’t know anymore.

“Forgive me darling,” the hushed words come as my father wraps his arms around me from behind. He pulls me against his chest and presses the barrel of his gun to my temple before stepping out from behind the tree.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the panicked words bubble up my throat as I try and escape his deathly grasp. I twist and throw my weight around, but it’s no use. Even with one hand occupied, he’s simply too strong. “Let go!” The barrel of the gun bumps against my head as hysteria begins to cloud my better judgement.

Just feet away, Ghost stands with his weapon aimed directly at me. At some point he clipped the riffle to his vest and switched to his handgun. Behind the daunting skull mask, his narrowed eyes calculate our every move with extreme precision.

I’ve heard the rumors about Ghost. Caught wind of whispers detailing the horrors he’s capable of. I’ve even witnessed some of the brutality myself working as his translator. Yet none of that cruelty was ever directed toward me. Now, I find myself looking directly down the barrel of his gun. There is no escaping Ghost’s wrath. There’s no escaping my father’s wrath.

“Put the gun down,” he calmly instructs my father. There’s something different about his voice. Something tense. I notice a stiffness about his posture that isn’t usually there. I’m not the only one who picks up on his behaviour either.

“So that bastard was right,” spite laces my father’s voice. His hot words travel down the back of my neck as his arm wraps tighter around my chest. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

I blink. My mouth dries up and I’m left speechless. How the hell does he know? How did Bennet know? Who else knows?

“No, dad-” the words start to tumble out of my mouth.

“Don’t lie to me, little bird,” his tone is venomous. I’m a traitor to him. Sleeping with his enemy. “You fucking whore.”

Tears prick my eyes. His words stun me and I can’t help the self loathing that weighs down my shoulders.

“Let her go or I’ll shoot,” fearful tremors shake my body. My vision starts to blur with emotion. I’ve never felt so scared in my life. I truly may not survive this.

“Then what?” he sneers “You’ll kill me anyways.”

“If you don’t, your wife will die,” the ultimatum is clear. “Is she really worth it?” Ghost’s words sting like never before. I wish one of them would make a decision, put me out of my misery.

Then, as if without thinking at all, my father releases me from his grip and takes a large step back. My weak knees barely hold my shaking body and when I turn around to face him, I truly don’t recognize the man in front of me anymore. Hundreds of burning questions ache for air, but the only one that escapes my lips begs for the devastating truth.

“Do you- do you even love me?” I force myself to make eye contact with him. From the very start of this horrifying journey, something has been missing. Like I was trying to read a misprinted book.

My father purses his lips and furrows his brows. I know the answer when our eyes meet. Not now. Certainly not after betraying him like he thinks I did. He inhales like he’s about to answer when three deafening gunshots pierce the air. I feel the bullets whiz through the air beside my head and watch as one tears through my father’s arm and two hit him in the shoulder. His gun falls to the ground and his eyes buldge as he realizes what just happened.

Ghost rushes past me and tackles my father to the ground. He forces his arms behind his back, despite the bleeding wounds, and zipties his hands together. He groans empty threats, but they’re so muffled I can’t make them out. None of this feels real. Every part of my body feels numb and full of static. Breathing becomes increasingly difficult.

Ghost stuffs my father’s mouth with a gag and then covers his head with a black bag. I try to tune out the harrowing sounds of his muffled moans and the distant gunfire and explosions. I feel a panick attack building under the surface of my skin. This is all too much. My knees finally give in.

“Y/n? Y/n,” Ghost’s voice softens as he abandons my father for me. His gloved hands are gentle as they embrace both sides of my head. I flinch away from his touch, causing him to falter. “You’re safe y/n, I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe,” he crouches to the ground beside me and pulls me against his bulky chest. I missed feeling his warmth so damn bad. I want to trust him. God do I want to, but all he does is lie to me. “We just have to get closer to the runway. Then the extraction team will get us out of here,” he strokes my hair as he speaks.

I’m not ready when he pulls us up from our position on the ground, but there’s no time to be ready. Every second we waste in the forest - in Ultranationalist territory - is another second we risk running into more of their soldiers.

Someone is going to notice my father’s absence, if they haven’t already. And they will come looking, if they haven’t already. In which case we are in even more danger.

Ghost lifts my father to his feet and forces him to walk, at times roughly pushing him ahead. Watching them makes my stomach twist into a knot. I can’t believe I haven’t thrown up yet.

He switches the handgun for his automatic riffle again and uses the sight to scope out the surrounding woods.

I have no idea where we are, yet Ghost seems to know the exact path to our destination.

Twice, he takes out multiple men in the distance before they can spot us, but our treck back is otherwise eerily silent.

I don’t remember waiting for the chopter or boarding or the ride back to Latvia. But I do remember the pained sounds escaping my father’s chest as he sits across from me, still blindfolded.

I completely forgot about Soap’s absence admidst clusterfuck of everything else going on. That’s until I hear another member of the task force briefing Ghost on a separate attack they planned to take place while the exchange was happening. The whirling of the helicopter makes it almost impossible make out their words, but Ghost’s eyes give away everything.

“He was injured sir. Badly. He lost a lot of blood on the way back to base and they didn’t have the equipment to operate in the air,” I feel my heart rate pick up and watch as Ghost completely freezes.

I don’t hear what Ghost asks him next. I do however, see the soldier shake his head with remorse.

Dread consumes me.

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