#mwii oc

[faepanic]

Shouldn't have made that bet to begin with…

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[ratviolnist]

i could yap about him for hours ( i fixed my asks because the questions couldn't be anonymous for a stupid reason

[trills-n-clicks]

Task Force Arachnid Masterlist

Task Force Arachnid, TF Arach or just Arach, is a special service team like 141, though there are several thousand key differences between the two. Some main ones being: Arach has 5 members, they've been a team for 6 years, they're part of the Special Nautical Service (SNS, a force I made from mah mind) and they went through an extremely traumatic experience that will be explained later!

This storyline will most likely not contain any smut, and definitely not any between canon characters and OCs.

The characters in my Task Force are (pls don't mind the names I like them) Captain Trilps "Spider" Locket, Lieutenant Shre Laverick, Captain Medic Ila "Bruise" Woods, Sergeant Alento "Feige" Vaughn, and Sergeant Freiah "Fuse" Melzo.

Warnings ↓ [WILL UPDATE PER CHAPTER]

Angst, fluff, polyamory(mainly mentioned), established relationships(not between canon and OC), military inaccuracies, medical inaccuracies(inaccuracies to the bomb, I try to do my research I swear).

Main storyline ↓

Chapter 1: Greetings From the Upsidedown! (WIP)

Behind the scenes ↓

Drabbles ↓

Requests ↓

Imagines ↓

THE TASK FORCE!!! (looks, base info, main ideas before drawing, etc.) ↓

Captain Trilps "Spider" Locket

Lieutenant Shre Laverick

Captain medic Ila "Bruise" Woods

Sergeant Alento "Feige" Vaughn

Sergeant Freiah "Fuse" Melzo

[trenchfront]

on a modern au kick (heckler & koch g3) bonus:

[islandtarochips]

Killing Metaphor?

*One of Aelan’s old enemy is still ALIVE somehow???*

Enemy: I killed your COMRADES and YOU killed ME.

Aelan: ……*looking at Alana*

Aelan: Mom, why’d you kill that guy?

Alana: MOTHERFUCKER! HE KILLED HIMSELF-

Arthur’s Note: A little spoiler/sneak peek about Alana’s past. @deeptrashwitch remember that conversation we had after talking about the “Thunder Saga”? Yeah, this is the hint. And don’t spoil it further.

General Alana Kalani -> Me

Dr. Aelan Kalani -> Me

Inspo Vid:

[dirtfullofwork]

Tagged by @islandtarochips

behind the name of my oc

Her first name “Sal”

Sal’s name is short for “Salamanca” there really is isn’t any meaning towards her name, it was just a name chosen :)

Her code name “ruz”:

Her code name ruz has a few meanings but it can mean “ day” :) but I also wanted to name her Ruth, it’s named after a oc I made while creating a comic and she was also a solider who’s father was evil and I really loved her so I wanted to name her after that but I also wanted to be creative and just make a completely new oc so I just simply choose ruz at the top of my head

Last name Le ciel:

It means the sky :)

Sorry this was very short TvT

I tag you! 🫵

[bloodysilv]

(click on the photo for higher quality)

#CODOC: Compared to the drawing I did a few days ago, this one is more accurate to what I imagine Riley looks like. The only reason I used Ellie to create Riley is because I just wanted to write a COD fanfic, and I had to find a faceclaim of some video game to make it look nice, and since I had just finished tlou I chose Ellie :’) that's Riley's story- i'm sorry for being ridiculous

btw I still can't find my art style

[bl-beater]

Kidnapping @jollybone & hqsugax their CoD OCs to draw them :)

[januarywearsblack]

WIP of my MW2 OC Cora (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Need to finish adding accessories. I usually don't do line art because my hands are shaky.

Name: Cora "Sunshine" Jameson

Birthday: August 1st (Leo)

Height: 5'6"

Weight: 127 lbs

Cora is chaotic good. Saving the world means breaking some rules. She's charismatic, authentic, and passionate. On the other hand, she can be somewhat immature and stubborn. After going rogue due to her Delta Force squadron's immoral behavior, she was eventually found and contacted by Price and Laswell to join the 141.

Ghost is her love interest. An opposites attract type of thing.

[luvvictoria]

I've been thinking abt a poly!tf141 with a fem!reader who like is from the country side AND I'M CRACKING, OH LAWD!!!

Task Force 141 had seen you kill a man from 700 meters away. They had seen you tear through enemy lines with the precision of a seasoned warrior, your movements deadly and efficient. But what they hadn't seen—what they couldn’t wrap their heads around—was the life you returned to after every mission.

Because while Ghost, Soap, Price, and Gaz spent their leave in safe houses, military bases, or the occasional urban apartment, you?

You went home.

To the countryside.

To your massive, luxurious farmhouse nestled in the hills of a quiet village, where the air smelled of fresh hay, wildflowers, and the occasional whiff of cow.

And when TF141 finally visited, they were not prepared.

The First Time They Saw the Farm : "What the fuck—" Ghost had been the first to say it when you pulled up to your estate in an old pickup truck, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as you parked in front of a sprawling wooden house with a red-tiled roof.

There were animals everywhere.

A massive black and white cow lazily chewed its cud near the wooden fence. Chickens and roosters strutted about like they owned the place. A gray donkey stared at them with judgmental eyes. Two ducks waddled past as if they were on a mission. Dogs barked excitedly at the sight of you, tails wagging. A cat lounged on the porch, stretching in the warm sun.

And then—a fucking horse trotted up to you, nuzzling into your palm like a puppy.

"Price," Gaz whispered. "She has a fucking farm."

"A fancy one at that," Soap muttered, still stunned.

"You lot gonna stand there all day?" You grinned, tossing your duffel bag over your shoulder. "Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready."

They were bewildered. They had spent years with you, fighting side by side, seeing you covered in blood, sweat, and gunpowder—and now you were leading them up the front porch of your cozy countryside mansion like a perfect little housewife.

And the worst part? They liked it.

You, The Deadly Soldier and The Perfect Housewife

Soap had expected you to relax on your leave. Maybe sleep in, drink some tea, read a book.

But no.

You were up at the crack of dawn, slipping out of bed before any of them could pull you back in, dressed in overalls and a white tank top, heading out to feed the animals like it was just another mission.

"Morning, sweetheart," Price murmured, leaning against the doorway as he watched you toss hay to the horses.

"Morning, Captain," you teased, kissing his scruffy cheek before moving on to collect eggs from the hens.

Ghost watched in silence, arms crossed, as you scolded a particularly feisty rooster. "You peck me one more time, and I swear to God, I’m making soup outta you."

Gaz almost choked on his coffee when you turned around and gave them the sweetest, most innocent smile.

"You boys want breakfast?"

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting at a massive wooden table in your warm, sunlit kitchen, eating fresh farm eggs, homemade bread, and smoked bacon.

And Soap was ready to propose.

Domesticity With a Side of Chaos

Price: Loves sitting on the porch with a cigar, watching you work. He helps with repairs, fixes fences, and absolutely adores the peacefulness of your home.

Ghost: The animals are terrified of him at first (except the donkey—the donkey hates him). But the barn cats adopt him, curling up in his lap whenever he sits down.

Soap: Thinks farm life is the best thing ever. He learns how to milk a cow, names every single chicken, and gets way too attached to a piglet.

Gaz: "Babe, I love you, but this rooster is evil." (He got chased one too many times.)

And at night?

After a long day of farm work, you slip into something soft and lacy, curl up in their arms, and remind them that you’re not just a soldier, not just a farmer—you’re theirs.

They Never Want to Leave

By the end of their stay, not a single one of them wants to go back.

"You sure we have to leave?" Soap pouts, feeding the ducks.

"Darlin’," Price murmurs against your neck one night, arms wrapped around you in bed, "Ever thought about retirin’ here? With us?"

Ghost doesn’t say it out loud, but when he watches you laugh, your hands covered in flour as you bake bread, he knows he never wants to be anywhere else.

And Gaz?

He just sighs, watching the sunset over the hills. "I never thought I’d say this, but…I think I’m in love with farm life."

They were all in love. With you. With this. With the life they could have, if only they stayed.

Maybe one day.

For now, they’d enjoy every stolen moment in their countsyde paradise. But what if we make thing spicy ? A little bit, at least.

Ghost Was The First To Break

Ghost had held strong. Longer than the others.

While Soap got weak-kneed watching you bend over to pick up hay, and while Gaz couldn’t stop staring at your thighs in those tiny denim shorts, Ghost had kept his cool.

Until that damn sundress.

White. Light. Flowy. Just enough fabric to tempt, but never satisfy—clinging to your curves, slipping off your shoulders as you carried a bucket of water to the horses.

He had been cleaning his rifle on the porch, but his grip tightened the moment he saw the fabric sway with your every step.

And then?

You had the audacity to look over your shoulder and wink at him.

He dropped the rifle.

Soap Lost It In The Barn

Soap had always been shameless about his attraction to you.

But you?

You were even worse.

It was an accident—(was it?)—when you walked into the barn one night, looking for something. The others were inside, drinking whiskey in the house, but Soap had been alone, brushing down one of your horses.

And then he saw you.

Wet.

Covered in rain.

Your thin white blouse clung to you, completely see-through, nipples pebbled against the fabric.

"Lass," he had rasped, watching as you closed the barn door behind you, stepping forward, voice all honeyed and sweet.

"Johnny," you had purred, voice dripping with something that wasn’t innocence, "I’m cold."

He snapped.

The horse had seen things that night.

Price Was The Most Dangerous

Price was a man of control.

A man of restraint.

A man who knew how to bide his time.

But you?

You tested him.

You liked to push. You liked to see how far you could go before he gave in.

And God help you—you found his limit.

It was late. The others were asleep. You were making tea in the kitchen, standing on your tiptoes to reach a mug from the top shelf.

Price had walked in just as your nightgown slipped up your thighs.

It wasn’t fair.

The soft, white cotton. The little lace trim. The way your bare legs looked so smooth, so inviting—and the sleepy way you turned, so unaware of what you were doing to him.

You looked up at him, mug in hand, and smiled. "You want some tea, Cap?"

And then—his hands were on your hips.

Voice rough.

"You know damn well what I want, sweetheart."

Gaz Had It The Worst

Gaz?

Gaz was a goner the first time he saw you in nothing but boots and his shirt.

You had come in from the field soaked in sweat, hair messy, thighs speckled with dirt. You had tossed your muddy clothes into the laundry room, grabbed his green tactical shirt, and walked around the house like it wasn’t driving him insane.

"Babe," he groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, watching you stretch, the hem of his shirt riding up to dangerous levels.

You blinked. All innocent. "What’s wrong?"

Gaz was a patient man. A respectful man. A man who was about to lose his goddamn mind.

"Come here."

You smirked, walking over slowly, pressing your hands to his chest.

"You’re so easy to rile up," you giggled.

His hand wrapped around your throat.

"And you’re about to learn what happens when you push too far."

[faepanic]

Rule number 1: don't trust anyone 🤭

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[sidollie]

༉‧₊˚. Simon Riley with a overstimulated reader cw// ᴍᴅɴɪ, overstimulation, pussy drunk Simon Riley, creampies, porn with no plot

𐙚 Simon Riley who thrusts maniacally into you, thick fat cock bullying it's way into your overly sensitive pussy as his thick seed gushes out of it.

His hot breath fans against the shell of your ear as he grunts,

"one more lovie, promise... jus' one more round"

his hips come to a stuttering halt as his cock once again spurts hot ropes of cum into you, he breaks his promise nth time that night as he starts to bully himself in your hole again.

Simon's red mushroom tip slams into that gooey spot within your slick gummy walls repeatedly as guttural groans erupt from him, while you try to squirm away from the amount of stimulation you were receiving, tears running down your cheeks as you sobbed,

"simon... 'm too sen-sensitive"

"I know sweet girl, I know but yer gonna keep taking it like a good girl, right? Hm?"

The bedroom is filled with his groans, your cries, and the wet sound of skin slapping against each other

plap, plap, plap

he bites the sensitive spot beneath your ear making you moan and clench around him.

"fuck lovie! D-don' clench"

Another orgasm rips through his body, his cock aching painfully but it feels too good to stop. so his hips once again start hammering into your poor cunt while he hoarsely apologizes,

"ah shit 'm sorry hon, yer lil cunt feels so good wrapped around my cock, jus' c-can't stop myself"

He ignores your whines, his mind driven only on getting his seed deep in your fertile womb till his lovely little wife is barefoot and swollen with his child.

@sidollie

[trills-n-clicks]

Lieutenant Shre Laverick

Mainly going by Shre, he's the lieutenant of TF Arach.

NONE OF THIS INFORMATION IS OF ACTUAL PEOPLE, SOME DETAILS ARE TAKEN FROM MYSELF BUT IT IS NOT BASED ON ME!!!

TF Arach Masterlist

DOB: January 25th 1993. [30 years old]

Relationships: ↓

//////// Pentick- Ex-partner <dead>

Mary Laverick- Mother <alive>

Dawson Yolen- Biological Father <dead>

James Laverick- Step-Father <dead>

Sharlet Yolen- Aunt (Father's side) <alive>

Lin ////////- Niece (Mother's side) <alive>

Bornel /////////- Brother <dead>

Sally /////////- Sister <alive> {Married to Alicia ///////}

Physical details: ↓

Head: Black, chin-length, mostly straight (1A) hair(he likes to keep it in a ponytail and clipped out of his face). Dark brown and hooded eyes. Slightly crooked, down-turned Greek nose. Thin lipped. Oval face shape.

Body: Mesomorphic, trapezoid shape, only way I can describe his build is Sleep Bod™

Marks (scars, birthmarks, tattoos, missing limbs, etc.): Large Phoenix tattoo on his back, from shoulder to shoulder. Birthmark from nose ala to corner of mouth in a curved shape. Scars include cuts across wrists from SH and interrogation from enemies. Burns from actual fires(spanning from legs to neck in splotches) and cigarettes(he was used as a bit of an ashtray, so trauma :'( ). Missing limbs include just his left pinky lost during torture from enemies. He's got a nose bridge piercing as well.

Other (height & weight stuff, skintone, nationality, etc.): His skintone is very pale, no freckles, a few moles scatter his body and face though. He's Australian and with relatives from Thailand. He's 7'2 (2.18m) and weighs 285 lbs (129.2 kgs). Yes he is a big boy. He likes wearing a grunge and steampunk mixed style, but he despises gears, instead going for chains. He likes the cling-clangy sounds they make.

Personality details: ↓

He's questioning his sexuality but knows he's greyromantic and on the ace spectrum. He's also a cis man. He likes the colors navy and black but will never admit that he is quite fond of deep red-ish pinks, especially roses. Outside people describe him as reserved, gloomy and quiet, but Arach describes him as sweet, wistful and quite father-like. And he may be an introvert, but he needs social interaction, otherwise he'll spiral down. He does have a sensitivity to smells, just smells them stronger in general. But he also had a few mental disorders including PTSD, Anxiety, and he's slightly on the spectrum for autism.

And Military info!: ↓

He joined in 2011 at 18 years old and was transferred to work in the SNS just 2 years after boot camp. He has skills in hostage rescue, basic emergency medical aid, covert operations, sniper techniques and knife combat. But he struggles in self hostage situations(ooo trauma) and clearing bodies(the smell always gets to him).

Basic picture using gacha(I just use the app to visualize what they'll look like with color) ↓

And I will insert a photo I drew below ↓ (it will not have color)

Left is his hair up and right is it down, ok it's not the best but it was my first variant of him and the rest are doodles.

I'm sorry if it's too long, read if you want but you really don't have to, he will be basically described in the fic.

[amaranthinespirit]

brother's best friend!simon riley is a man you shouldn't like

he's older, albeit a few years, but older nonetheless. you grew up around him, him being your brother's best friend. they never left each other's side, it felt like. attached at the hip.

you always had an eye for simon, the boy was alluring, quiet and reserved, but regardless, you wanted him. you couldn't have him though, with him being buddy-buddy with your older brother, he was off-limits.

especially since your brother is outright aggressive in his protections for you, he even got simon on the bandwagon. you deluded yourself into thinking simon didn't want any other guys around you, but came to the reality that he was just helping your brother out, as friends do.

but as you got older, the quick glances turned to lingering stares and prolonged eye contact across the room, with brief touches and grazes against arms or legs whenever you sat near.

every single time, you reminded yourself that your brother would have simon's head for even conjuring the thought. in simple fear for his life, you didn't do anything further.

now it's been years. your brother and simon went off to the military and got deployed. coming back home as hardened soldiers, your brother became closed off, silent. like a hermit, he holed up in his room, leaving the once joy-filled rooms empty with only despair.

it was like a void had been made in your heart, left only with the bulky man simon grew to be. sure, he had also seen some stuff, but he had had rough home life so he knew how to deal with it, to some extent, and it was the reason he spent so much time at your house in the first place.

slowly, simon filled the voids your brother had left, shushing you with hushed words that he's just doing what your brother would want. making you happy.

and it's exactly what he does, pounding into your tight warmth that drools over his cock. a creamy ring of arousal forming at the base of his length as he fully sheathes inside your pussy. his hand is rough against your mouth, cooing about how you wouldn't want your dear brother to find out how simon's filling you in a way he should've years ago.

yet his pace is brutal, the sound of skin slapping together, enough to turn it red, bounces off the walls, and you'd be surprised if your brother didn't hear it through the thin plaster.

regardless, he didn't relent, making up for lost years by making you orgasm more than what you could count before you quickly became stupid, drooling over his fingers and crying out his name, muffled only by the tight grip of his hand over your lips.

your brother will come around eventually, right? simon tells you that he'll accept it once he sees how happy he makes you, and you have no choice but to believe him.

[simonz-angel]

ghost who has many techniques to stamina training..

your neck flexes, muscles fluctuating against the hard shell of his bicep, head held trapped between the thick muscle and his chest. you can barely breathe, chest puffing in desperate, needy gasps.

and when he fingers sink into you, your sweet essence squelches, fingers digging deep as he fucks into you with a mere two digits. but the speed, the quickness and precision has you squirming and groaning.

“stay still, baby, you need to learn,” he huffs into your ear, tongue dragging over the shell. and he’s kicking his feet beneath your calves, forcing you flat to him and still, unable to move and only able to take everything he has to give you.

when you gasp, hands patting at his flexed up bicep, he gently lightens still keeping his arm tight around you and fingers buried to the absolute hilt within you.

“gotta give me 3, babe, so we can keep track of your progress.”

[yansmachinegun]

GYAAATTTT GHOST???? CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP YEEEOOOOWWCHHHH!!!!!!