#next up will be Gaz!

[reds-skull]

Revenant Side Stories

Story II: Graves

[Story 1 - Konchar] [AO3]

Ah yes, the oneshot I promised 4 months ago. I got sidetracked with bloodhunger, and I'm still busy with uni (when am I not...), but I finally found time to write Graves' story! I'll be honest, I kinda procrastinated on this because I wasn't sure I would be able to really capture his voice correctly, but I like how this turned out.

I got a few more characters on the list for side stories, but if you're interested in seeing anyone in particular, you're welcome to suggest them!

“You’re such a piece of shit, Graves!”

Philip smiles as wide as his mouth full of dry MRE cake allows him to, “I know you’re the one that put boot polish inside my shoes two weeks ago, Collins. Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

Collins’ face twists in anger, in a way that is quite satisfying to him, “I was fuckin’ saving that cake for after the op.”

“I know.” Philip swallows, grin finally able to stretch across his face. Collin doesn’t grace him with another reply, instead stomping away while muttering curses under his breath. Serves him right.

He leans back against the armored truck they’ll use for infil, in about half an hour from now. He’s been ready far before that, always the first on the tarmac. He has to, if he wants to be in his superior officers’ good graces, if he wants that promotion.

Being a Corporal is nice and all, but Philip aims higher than that. He thinks – no, knows he wasn’t made to follow orders till the day he dies. No, he’s much better suited to command, to lead, to make the final call.

He just needs to make the higher brass see that as well.

Among the buzzing activity of the final preparations for the upcoming operation, Philip spots Lieutenant Reed inspecting a crate of equipment. The man is build like a shit brick house, all 6’4 inches of pure muscle. That’s not to mention the Lieutenant’s special little revenant status, which makes sure that even if you manage to shoot the giant bastard, he’ll get back up quicker than any human being should. Apparently, healing powers are quite common for soldier revenants, not that it matters when their kind is as rare as it is.

A pang of jealousy shoots through him, at the sheer power the man clearly exudes just by standing there. It goes away quickly enough.

Lieutenant Reed is a great commander, don’t get him wrong, but Philip always thought he was too… caught up by his own moral compass. More concerned with doing what’s just, instead of doing what’s right. Admirable, but dangerous on the field.

A man who puts his and his squad’s life over the mission, is not a man who will go far. A man that puts things like righteousness over the mission…

Philip pities him, really. Reed could’ve been a General by now, if he understood that. But he’s grateful, in a way, that the Lieutenant is the way he is, to teach him this lesson.

The Lieutenant’s eyes meet his, and he motions with his head to move. He ruminated around long enough – time to get to work.

The mission is simple, a milk run, really. When he enlisted, Philip expected to be constantly fighting, to truly feel with each shot how he changes things in the world.

He sure didn’t expect to be loaded up in the back of a truck with five other soldiers, and act as basically a glorified delivery man, transporting gear to an American base in another part of a foreign country.

Those were the fantasies of a younger, stupider Philip. He now knows just how much is required to upkeep a base, both from first-hand experience and from his studies on his time off. After all, being the best doesn’t only come down to his physical abilities, it demands the best mind, the strongest will, the smartest of tactics.

This means he’s got less time to socialize with the soldiers in his unit, but he’s truly not mourning that. They seem like a bunch of idiots anyway. It only motivates him further to get the next promotion, if only to get away from them.

The downside to that, is that Philip barely knows the last names of the people currently in the truck with him. Lieutenant Reed is in a truck ahead of theirs, his rank high enough to grant him the privilege of not being shoved between crates and sweaty recruits.

Philip keeps half of his attention on the low conversation between the soldiers next to him, scanning the empty, dry grasslands surrounding the road.

“Heard the fellas up north have been attacked, last time a convoy went through.” a soldier he thinks might be Johnson murmurs.

Collins answers from the other side of the truck, “yup, I got a friend there. Two from his unit died.”

Maybe-Johnson shakes his head with a huff, “fuckin’ gangs man… The US might as well fund them, with the amount of supplies they drive right to their doorstep…”

“Think we’ll meet them today?” another soldier joins (Gonzalez? Fuck if he knows).

“If we do, I’m going to wipe ‘em out.” Collins grins, and Philip has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn’t wipe out his grandma, let alone several trained gang members. “‘Sides” he continues, “we got the LT on our side.”

Gonzalez (???) laughs, “damn right we do! Can’t kill a man twice, can ya?”

Philip internally groans, jaw tightening. They think Reed is some sort of immortal, just because he died once and survived. A fucking bullet to the head would kill him all the same. The only thing the Lieutenant is truly invincible from is infection and diseases - what originally killed him. If any of these bastards ever bothered to pick up a book, they’d know that.

He apparently didn’t manage to school his features well enough, since Collins turns to address him, “what’s with the face, Graves?”

Philip does roll his eyes this time, “just because Reed is a revenant doesn’t mean y’all can just sit back and relax, he’s just one person.”

The road they’re on cuts through a hill, casting long shadows over them.

“Yeah, a person that heals from a stab wound in half an hour!”

“Those are just rumors.” Philip spits, “have any of you ever looked at the actual reports??”

A few soldiers groan as Collins answers, “not all of us are fuckin’ suckups, bro.”

Philip watches the lot of them laugh, a sharp smile slowly spreading on his lips, “not all of us are going to become Sergeants, bro.”

The laughter dies, Collins’ face twists in anger familiarly, “you’ve always been a piece of shit-”

The world becomes bright white for a moment, screams Philip later registers as his own rip out of his chest as the truck swerves and crashes.

His ears ring, limbs refusing to listen to his orders. “Hrgh… shit…” he forces his eyes open, as his hearing returns.

Gunshots flash between the wreckage and the top of the hills, soldiers taking cover behind the upturned truck. It seems like he was the only one blown away this far.

The fuckin’ gang must’ve hit him directly. Just his damn luck.

Philip tries to crawl forward, not particularly keen on staying alone with no cover, but even that small movement shoots intense pain through his body, his vision darkening for a few seconds. He winces, carefully turning to look at his torso and legs.

He swallows down the bile rising to his mouth, blinking down at the deep craters at his right hip. That… can’t be his own body, right? He thinks he sees bone.

Another RPG whistles through the air, missing the truck by only a few feet. His squad turns around, shooting down the gang members attempting to corner them from their flank.

He needs to get to them. They should have enough knowledge of first aid to at least stop the bleeding, or give him a stim shot, fuckin’ anything!

Philip starts screaming, “HELP!!! I’M STILL ALIVE!!!!!” he grits his teeth, desperation starting to crack his voice as he realizes he might actually die here, “COLLINS!!! GONZALEZ!!! HELP!!!!!”

Hope bubbles within him when he sees Collins turn his head to his direction, searching for the source of the shouts in the shadows. Philip raises his arm as far as he can, waving it to catch Collins’ attention.

He thinks it might be the first time he ever felt actual happiness to see Collins’ stupid green eyes lock onto his.

“I CAN’T MOVE, YOU GOTTA FUCKIN’ HELP ME!” he yells, pointing to his right leg.

Collins’ eyes trail down, to the puddle of blood coloring the grass under Philip red. He lifts a hand to his comms, mouth moving too fast for him to read.

He must’ve reported his condition to Reed. Collins is not completely useless, Philip muses.

Collins nods in response to whatever Reed told him, and Philip’s heart drops when he turns away from him, and points to the forest.

They… they’re not gonna run, are they? They’re not gonna leave him here, bathing in his own damn blood, right?!

Yet, that’s exactly what they do. The five soldiers, his own teammates, wait for an opening in the relentless shooting from the hostiles, and run. Without him.

Philip shouts again, anger now booming through his throat, “COLLINS! YOU FUCKING COWARD, COME BACK!!! DON’T LEAVE ME HERE, I’LL DIE!!!!! WE’RE ON THE SAME SIDE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, HELP- HELP ME!!!”

Collins doesn’t even look back once, and Philip watches the figures of his squad disappear between the trees. He screams in frustration, hands shaking in fury.

His mind returns to the moment Collins nodded. Lieutenant Reed… he must’ve told them to disengage. Ordered them to leave him behind to bleed out.

A hysterical laugh shakes his shoulders. So much for ‘no man left behind’, eh, Lieutenant? Fucking hypocrite. Philip hopes that wherever revenants go after they die, Reed will suffer for the rest of his existence.

His laugh devolves into choked sobs when the reality of his situation sinks in. He’s gonna die. He’s going to die because his own team abandoned him.

Philip always knew they were useless, but he expected them to at least not fuckin’ betray him, y’know? 

As his vision fades for the last time, Philip smiles. Not because he accepts his fate, no.

But it’s nice to know he was right, the whole damn time.

“Philip Graves”

“Graves”

“Graves”

Philip’s eyes snap open, and he inhales sharply. It takes him a few moments to comprehend he’s not in that damn valley he was abandoned in. He’s… not anywhere on Earth… is he?

His own reflection stares at him, multiplied over countless times, like a hall of mirrors in a carnival. He raises a hand to his right side, pressing tentatively at first, and digging into the muscles when he realizes his wounds have been healed.

…What is this place?

“This is my Realm”

“Realm”

“Realm”

Several voices echo around him, and Philip looks around only to see his own wide blue eyes.

“W-where are you?!” he snarls, fear beating at his heart.

“Up”

“Up”

“Up”

He cranes his head up, mouth opening in shock at the creature above him.

A writhing mass of limbs coils onto itself, arms and legs and faces, creating the vague shape of a person. Its face is blank, nothing but a maw. 

“You’re… a Reaper…” Philip mutters dumbly.

“The Reaper of Many”

“Many”

“Many”

The Reaper leans closer, Philip’s body shaking at the sheer scale of it, “so I did d-die.”

He doesn’t know how, but he gets the feeling the Reaper grins at the words.

“YES” “YES” “YES” a terrifying chorus of voices confirms. The twitching limbs seem to move quicker in excitement, “TELL ME, PHILIP GRAVES, WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

Philip covers his ears at the screeching Reaper, eyes squeezed shut in agony. In the back of his mind, he remembers the transcript from interviews of revenants, of this very question they all had to respond to.

Of the identical answer they all give.

“I just- I JUST WANT TO LIVE!!!”

Philip’s quick breaths slow down, when the Reaper doesn’t scream again.

“I just want to live…” he repeats, opening his eyes and lowering his arms. After a few moments of nothing, he finds the courage to look up.

The Reaper’s hand is hovering above him, finger uncurled and pointing to him.

“Give me your soul, Philip Graves, and I’ll let you live” 

“live” 

“LIVE”

Philip nods shakily, “It’s yours, Reaper.”

Giggling bounces between the mirrors surrounding him, gleeful and horrendous. The finger moves closer, Philip leaning back on instinct alone. It feels like his blood is boiling over, brain liquifying into mush, yet he physically can’t open his mouth to scream.

“From this day on, until the day you die, Philip Graves, you are mine.”

“Mine”

“MINE”

The Reaper touches his forehead, his vision flashing with bright colors he doesn’t have a name to.

“My revenant, Revenant of Many”

“Many”

“MANY”

“MANY”

“MA-”

Someone is shaking his arm. Philip pushes away, scrambling back. He opens his eyes.

Something decidedly not human greets him.

“The fuck-” Philip curses.

“The fuck-” the creature answers. It doesn’t have a mouth, or any defining features. Barely a dark shape, like someone cut out the silhouette of a person out of the fabric of reality.

Philip feels an odd presence in his mind, like dozens of eyes looking up at him, awaiting command.

The valley is quiet. He looks up at the hills, finding more shapes lingering, all looking at him. Philip looks back at the one that touched him.

“What are you?”

The shape answers by echoing his voice, “-you?”

Philip breathes out a small laugh, hand carding into his hair in amazement.

His admiration of his new powers is cut short by the sound of an engine. Philip jumps to his feet, body still feeling a phantom pain of sorts, and orders his shapes, “disappear.”

In a blink, the shapes melt away into the shadows. He runs to the woods, taking cover behind a thick tree trunk when the vehicle rolls around the bend into the valley.

Philip’s eyes narrow when he sees that the vehicle is none other than the US military’s. He averts his eyes, scrutinizing the setting sun. It has been at least several hours since Collins and his group of dickheads left him to die.

The vehicle stops near the wreckage, the fire burning the truck long extinguished. Lieutenant Reed out of all people climbs out, instantly ordering his men to clear the area of hostiles. Burning rage ignites within Philip at the sight.

Without his will, the shadows around him materialize, blank faces all staring at him.

He gets an idea. It’s stupid, and frankly will probably put him in a lot more trouble than it’s worth, but honestly Philip literally died a few hours ago and so did his fucks to give.

“Seize them.” he tells his shapes, his Shadows.

The dozen or so Shadows instantly start running, tackling the squad of soldiers. Philip barely contains a laugh at their terrified screams. One of them manages a shot on a Shadow, but the creature simply ignores the gaping hole in his thigh, and wrestles the man down.

Lieutenant Reed needs two Shadows to force him to kneel, but soon enough they all stay down, lined up on the dirt road.

“If this is how it feels to be a revenant, I would be a cocky bastard too”, Philip thinks to himself while looking at Reed.

“Lieutenant, what the fuck are these- these things?!” one soldier asks frantically.

Reed growls, fruitlessly attempting to shake off the Shadow restraining him, “revenant powers. But I’ve never seen something like this-”

Philip chooses this moment to reveal himself, “impressive, aren’t they? I’d say they’re a fair trade to dying, wouldn’t you, Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant Reed’s face slackens in shock, “...Corporal Graves?”

He smiles unkindly, “the one and only. Tell me…” he crouches in front of Reed, “when you ordered Collins and his group of bumbling idiots to abandon me and run away, did you even feel a speck of remorse? If not for me, at least for my poor mother, that would’ve had to live with the fact the men that were supposed to be on his side left him to die?”

The Lieutenant at least seemed to pretend to be horrified, “I- it was the Commander, not me, Graves. I didn’t make the call to leave you behind, kid-”

Philip cuts him off with a few slow claps, “wow, Lieutenant. I’ve already gathered you’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, but a liar as well? You should’ve been an actor instead of a soldier, sir. You’ve got a natural talent right there.”

His digging remarks only seem to make Reed more guilty, “...I may have not made that order, but I take responsibility over my soldiers. You didn’t deserve to die, Graves. I’m sorry.”

Philip falters at the genuinely heartfelt apology. He didn’t expect Reed to actually be sorry about it. It only twists something in his gut further.

Philip’s voice loses the mocking tone it had before, “you have nothing to apologize for, sir. Without you, I would’ve never received such power.” he spreads his arms, motioning to his Shadows.

Reed’s brows curve upwards, regret painting his features, “really, I should thank you, Lieutenant.”

Philip grins as wide as his mouth allows him, not a lick of joy within it, “thank you, for letting me die alone.”

He knew he’ll get in trouble once he arrives back to base, but he didn’t expect Major Shepherd to be the one disciplining him.

Philip knows to dread the punishment the moment the Major opens the door, his face severe as ever as he dismissed the other officers in the room.

He rises to his feet, saluting the Major, before the man waves him off.

Shepherd takes the sit in front of him, staring him down for a few tense moments before speaking, “Corporal Philip Graves. Do you know how much shit you’ve put yourself into, with that little ‘prank’ you did to Lieutenant Reed and his squad?”

Philip doesn’t shy away from the Major’s burning gaze, “yes sir.”

Shepherd doesn’t look impressed, “the Lieutenant told me about your powers. Which Reaper got you?”

“Reaper of Many, sir.”

“Reaper of Many… can’t say I’ve met a revenant from it.” the Major drawls, “most of your kind belongs to the Reaper of Flesh.”

The one in charge of healing… Reed’s Reaper.

“Your powers are exceptionally strong, Graves.” Shepherd smiles, oddly enough.

Philip blinks, taken off guard by the praise, “... thank you, sir?”

The Major leans back, his demeanor less serious, “no need for formalities right now, Graves. I’d like to speak to you as an equal at the moment.”

…What is the Major’s angle here? He doesn’t seem angry at him anymore.

“About what?”

Shepherd smirks, something about it raising the hairs on Philip’s arms, “What do you see yourself doing, four, five years down the line?”

“...What?”

“Your aspirations, Graves. Aiming for Lieutenant? Captain?”

Philip frowns in confusion, “Commander, sir.”

“Commander, huh?” Shepherd hums, “I have a… proposition for you, Graves.”

Proposition? “I’m listening.”

“What do you think about PMCs?”

The rapid change in topic leaves Philip unsteady in his answers, “they’re… I think they’re necessary, but I’d rather stay with the US military. I want to fight for my country.”

Shepherd looks… disappointed? “Listen, son. I think you’re a great soldier, and you have been given great power to control. People like you… the military will just hold you back.”

Philip inhales deeply. Is Shepherd saying what he thinks he’s saying?

The Major continues, “I think you’ll do much better outside the red tape, Philip.” he pulls out a contract, a frankly absurdly high stack of papers, “I’d like you to work for me. Not as my subordinate, but as a collaborator.”

Philip stares at the papers, “you… you want me to leave the army?”

“Exactly. I want you to become your own PMC. I believe, with your amount of strength, other soldiers will just get in your way.” Shepherd adds, almost like an afterthought, “and you won’t need to worry about any sort of punishment about your actions today, your death will be completely redacted, and the Lieutenant ordered to keep his mouth shut.”

He looks back at the Major’s eyes, deep gratitude welling inside him. Shepherd offers his hand to him, right above the contract that will finally grant him what he worked years for, as easily as writing his own name.

Graves takes the offering, and shakes the Major’s hand.

“My Shadows will be at your service, Shepherd.”

Shepherd smiles, satisfied, “already prepared for your first mission, Commander Graves?”

Commander Graves. He thought it would take years until he was granted the name.

Graves flashes a grin, “was reborn ready, Major.”

[temeyes]

took the three of them to our outing today! the Bois had fun!

[gomzdrawfr]

Debrief

[siddyyyyyyyy]

You're Only Sixteen

wc: ~3.8k

summary: child soldier joins task force141, stuff is complicated

warnings: violence, brief discussion of child soldiers

a/n: got this idea from somewhere, it marinated in my drafts for about half a year lol; second part

Waiting at the back of the base, Ghost is leaning against the building, waiting on the new addition to the Task Force. As if they even need one. Price sent him to meet the recruit, telling him the new asset should be highly trained and good for the team. Maybe he's right, but five people on the team seem too much for Ghost. Whatever criticism he has, they don't matter now since Price got you into the team anyway, meaning there's no going back unless you manage to mess up badly. Soap passes him by, having a clue on why he's waiting outside right now.

»Waiting on the new recruit?«

He gives a grunt as a response. »Supposedly, they're highly trained and an 'asset' to us.« Soap nods and wishes him good luck, but also prays for the recruit. Meeting Ghost as the first of the team might be scary for the new recruit, but Price probably doesn't really care about that or he wants that to happen. God knows what his plan is; no one really knows.

Some time passes after the interaction before a truck arrives with you in it, a smaller figure popping out of the vehicle once it stopped near Ghost. He doesn't register what he sees in front of him for a moment, too focused on the truck driving away, before properly taking a look at you. While about two heads smaller than him, you have a rather slim build but a gloomy appearance around you. And you're... not older than bloody fifteen. There's no way. That's either a bad joke or you just look incredibly young.

»Name?« Once his gruff voice reaches you, you can't help but already tense up slightly more than before. He looks intimidating, yes, but you're sure he should be your future teammate. Eventually, you briefly introduce yourself, and he is also very sure that he's got the right person in front of him. The new asset. Ghost isn't one to be nosy or ask personal questions, but he needs to really bite back on asking about your age. You look way too young to be here. Let alone meet him in person.

»And you're Ghost, right?« You ask carefully, standing right in front of him with a respective distance. With how stoic your expression is... you're too much like his younger self. Maybe Ghost thinks too much of it, but he hopes you didn't need to go through the same thing he did.

He gives you back a small nod, uncrossing his arms and sizing you up for a second longer before turning around to the door. Walking into the base without saying another word and expecting you to follow him just like that. Pretty scary, to be honest.

You don't know much, but being added to a team of four, not sure what their intentions are with either you or in general. Maybe it's better when he doesn't talk much to you; the less you know, the better. But the base looks too clean and organised for any shady stuff to go on. But you could also be easily mistaken. Looking around, you spot only a few soldiers walking by, how simple it's decorated inside, and it isn't cold like in other buildings. After some long corridors, he stops at a double door, a small sign next to the doors with 'Briefing Room' written on it. Ah, good to know.

Ghost eyes you for a hot second before opening one of the doors and walking in, following behind him once again. Walking in, you see three other men in the room already, looking less intimidating than this ‘Ghost guy‘. »Nice to meet you and welcome to the team.« Another deep but more soft voice greets you, a man with a beard and fisherman's hat giving you a small nod. His gaze hardens for a moment too, like Ghost's did before when first meeting you. He also realises something is wrong. You nod back as a small form of greeting, mumbling out a formal greeting back.

»Kid, tell me. How old are you'?« He asks as he straightens his posture and awaits your answer, tilting his head a bit to the side. It‘s clear this man doesn‘t beat around the bush and goes straight to the point. The other two men in the room stay quiet, silently watching and studying you as well. One with a mowhawk exchanges a look with the tall, scary guy, Ghost, before glancing to the captain.

»There was no age on your file, so I'm just curious.« He adds to his question, sounding polite even though you can clearly hear the suspicion and probably even concern in his voice. Taking a deep breath, you try to be honest, but you're also afraid of the consequences of being honest. There are four men after all, all taller than you, seemingly much bigger and stronger. You know how to fight, but it still gives you chills standing in this room with unfamiliar men, all alone.

»I'm sixteen, sir.« Is your answer and voice steady and calm even though your body language betrays you. Your whole body stays still, with hands behind your back, seemingly waiting for any possible attack or threat to come right your way. It's silent while you look around the faces of them, seeing both surprise and disbelief in almost all of them. Only Ghost stays unwavering, but that might just be his balaclava covering his whole face. He knew something was wrong but wasn't sure enough to ask you that same question earlier, having figured that his captain knew enough anyway to avoid this situation. It stays silent for another beat until the captain sighs out, leaning his hands onto the table in front of him.

»And what's a sixteen-year-old doing in such a place?« He asks you, even though he could ask that question himself. How could he allow this? Is that why there was no age to your file? And are there more poor children like you? It's obvious they're all against something like a 'child soldier‘ in their team, even when you‘re a teen by now. »I was sent here to be an asset to your team.« You answer him, deciding it's better to talk and communicate rather than stay silent and listen to the thick silence.

»Captain, that's-« »Another word and you're out, Gaz.« The guy with the cap is interrupted by the captain's loud voice, giving out a clear warning. You notice how tense it feels in the room, sensing just how badly this could go wrong. Price takes a short breath before turning his attention back to you, standing at his full height once again.

»What do you know? About this, I mean. Do you even know our names? What we're doing?« You simply shake your head, staying stoic and calm even though you have the strong urge to run out of the room, knowing you‘re most likely not welcome in this room. But you won‘t; you've learnt to stay put and stand your ground, to not show any weakness no matter what.

»Kid...« He sighs out, trying to find a way to put this correctly, »Okay, let's start with you first. Tell us about yourself.« This is much kinder than you thought this would be. No one's glaring at you besides one particular shadow in the corner, but that just seems to be in his nature. You answer him, your voice being as steady and calm as possible, while telling them about yourself.

»I've been trained professionally for nearly nine years, been on the field since then. My specialisations are weapon handling, sabotage, sniper techniques, and demolitions.«

You state, carefully picking your words and telling them information about yourself that seems to be most necessary for now. Price stares at you for a few seconds, all eyes on you, while the mowhawk and Ghost are occasionally exchanging looks with each other, seemingly unsure about you. It seems like the captain is thinking before speaking up once more, having decided it.

»That's a lot for sixteen years. You must be real good if you were sent here, no? I think you have potential.« »Price, are you serious-« The mowhawk snaps, glaring at his captain before glancing back to you shortly. »That's a kid.« He hisses, completely thrown off with his captain's easy acceptance of you in their team. »I agree, Cap'. There's no way we'll have a child soldier on our side.« Baseball cap, Gaz, chimes in and tries to convince Price otherwise of you.

It feels both refreshing but also scary when someone talks like this about you, not being used to someone recognising the falseness of this, but you're also afraid if they decide to not accept you into the team. All you can do is watch.

»There's no safer place than here for a kid like this. And the mission is too soon to search for other assets.« He argues back, thinking it's better for you here than anywhere else. He's not wrong; you're in better hands now. The thing is that you have no knowledge of who these people are or what they're fighting for. Or anything else, really.

»Trust me, Soap.« The captain reassures him, Soap, the mowhawk guy, taking his eyes back to you. It's uneasy for you when you know how none of them like the idea of you in the team but the captain. And that's pretty much the only thing keeping you in this task force for now.

»Sorry. We'll keep you in the team, but if you aren't really that good, then we'll have to get rid of you.« The captain's words cut right through you, understanding that this might be a warning for you. That, if you let yourself down or don't show your everything, this might be your end. But maybe he also just said it to scare you. Which worked either way, not wanting to disappoint him. »I understand, sir.« You nod, glancing around the other faces once more quickly as if to remember their faces. ----

Not knowing their names is difficult, having no idea how to ask them for it as well. Wait for them to introduce themselves? Might take longer than some missions. Ask them yourself? No, that's too embarrassing, right? I mean, the captain mentioned their names before in the briefing room, but you just couldn't remember them that quickly. Especially with the situation you were in. But asking them yourself might be a good idea too; practicing social skills and trying to get to know what their intentions are would be a good start.

Looking around yourself, you see only how everyone's preparing for the mission. After the briefing ended, the captain announced that you're all heading out, not able to waste any more time. The mowhawk guy, also the closest to your height, is preparing his guns and picking out some more stuff for himself. Besides him, there's the guy with the baseball cap, and he's doing pretty much the same as his teammate. They look harmless like this, but it's just the fact that these are men, all too unfamiliar to be comfortable around them yet.

Ghost is the only more scary and silent one among them, knowing not to mess with him just by looking at him. The captain is by the helicopter, talking to the pilot and seemingly going over the plan or route once more.

So, there's two people not doing much but preparing themselves, one who's waiting for everyone to be ready and the captain who is busy talking to someone already. Now's your chance, but also not. It doesn't feel right to just walk up to them and start talking, not used to such casual interactions back at your camp. But staring at them isn't really polite either, so you take your eyes off the poor men and instead study the helicopter while strapping on your gear. ----

Sitting in the helicopter is much more interesting, there are more buttons, more extra buttons, interesting technology, and other stuff to look at. Good thing you're sitting next to the captain, too afraid to move the wrong way as if he would care about that in the first place.

He's more focused on the mission and if everything is going according to plan. The others don't seem as nervous or excited in the first place, just like you being rather stoic or focused. To your left sits the scot, he is not looking your way, instead checking out the helicopter's interior as well. Looking straight in front of you, there's Ghost and the most normal-looking one. You could basically ask them their names now, but that could come off as awkward too.

Maybe earlier was a better idea than now... »What's your name again?« Asks the rough voice from your right, looking straight at you. You glance at him and answer him shortly with your name. He nods in response, gesturing to the opposite of him, and goes on.

»That's Gaz. On his right, there's Ghost. And on your left, there's Soap. These are our call signs. I'm Captain Price, sorry for not introducing ourselves earlier.«

Hm, that's very nice of him, actually. You'd never thought he would be so soft spoken, even with his rather rough and raspy voice. But the way he introduces everyone gives you hope that this team might be just a chill and friendly one.

You nod back in return, considering shortly what to say to that. »Nice.« Soap smirks just lightly at your short response, the same goes to Gaz, who after that short introduction looks away once more. Ghost's eyes stay on you for longer, either sizing you up or just staring. Well, there goes your social skills, having thought too much about speaking up and how not to be awkwa-

»What'd you know about guns? You said you specialise in weapon handling.« This is on your left side this time, Soap, if you remember correctly. Your attention is on him now, answering his question after processing it quickly.

»Like, what kind of guns there are or what I have with me?« You ask back, unsure of what to reply exactly to him. He clarifies himself, shifting slightly in his seat to face you better. He tries again, asking you more about what kind of guns are your favourites and if you know some of the mechanics of them and how to tune your gun.

You learn a lot about tuning your gun or rifle, not having been taught that much in your camp. Even though you both haven't talked much, it still felt like you learnt a lot through him. Some would say talking about guns isn't appropriate with a teenager, but is there anything else to talk about with you anyway?

As soon as the helicopter landed and Soap had mostly rambled to you about guns, you're all ready to walk out and officially start the mission. It was rather simple, the plan is to clear a three-story building, get the intel and leave. It shouldn't take any longer than an hour, depends on how many difficulties there are going to be.

After the last few commands of the captain, it starts, pairing up in groups of two while Price goes to the front. Soap is by your side like before, while Ghost and Gaz are in front of you.The atmosphere shifts, and everyone is dead focused, having no place for mistakes. The task of clearing out the building wasn't difficult, it was difficult to actually focus on getting the intel. It was in the basement of the rather big house, only able to get in after having actually cleared out the entire area. After that's done, it goes straight to it, and there was no going back.

Your stomach drops once you reach the basement, it's silent but also so loud you can't hear what the others are saying. Several dead bodies, a dimly lit lamp from the ceiling, the intel in the corner, inside of a USB-stick next to the computer. Price steps in and first puts the stick in to check if it is really what's needed. After a few seconds of loading, it turns out that, yes, it's exactly the information you're here for.

You're finally able to breathe once Price turns around with the intel in hand before giving a firm nod, ready to go back out and return to base. The stench of the dead bodies was torture for you, let alone how dark it was in the room and how silent it was. Walking out was way easier, almost running out as the first one. But outside, there was another surprise. Right as the team went out of the basement, there was another team of soldiers, having just entered the hallway. One wrong move and you're done for, that's for sure.

Your adrenaline skyrockets and makes you act on impulse, shooting two soldiers down with clean head shots. They stop staring and act, one rushing right at you with a knife, probably thinking that’s an easier way instead of shooting at you. Thanks to your aggression that’s mostly caused by your adrenaline rush, you’re quick to block and counterattack him. The enemy soldier is clearly taller than you, but for some reason not hard to fight with at all. You quickly jab his side, which makes him gasp for air; using the distraction to choke him before stabbing him at his other side repeatedly. He cries out and winces before you let go, him holding onto his injured side and falling to his knees. You grab a fire extinguisher from the wall and hit his back with it until he collapses, aiming at his head until you’re sure he is done for. The team took out the rest and glanced to where the loud bangs were coming from, only seeing how you hit the soldier one last time before the fire extinguisher fell from your sweaty palms.

A look of surprise washes over their faces until Nikolai talks into the earpieces, informing you he’s waiting right outside with his helicopter, having about a minute before he needs to fly away.

Once the enemies are out, you're quick to leave the building all together and indeed, see the helicopter of Nikolai. Loaded in and safe, it feels like you've just run a whole marathon. Sitting down at one of the seats with a sigh, you relax your muscles as much as you can. Nikolai’s voice chimes in through the headset you're all wearing once again, all loud and clear and almost as soft spoken as Price's voice. Maybe a bit more warm than the captains, but laced with an accent. The conversation only consists of updating and some light jokes afterwards, it’s mostly quiet. The low grumble of the helicopter is the only thing filling the silence inside, not that it's uncomfortable. It's almost relaxing to finally be safe and at peace for now, even if it's just the way back.

That basement earlier took up some courage in you to go in and stay grounded, not to think too much and focus on the obvious. The surprise attack afterwards sure was surprising but nothing too challenging. The seat was strangely comfortable now after the mission, it's getting darker now anyways as the sun sets and your sore legs are able to have a time out for now. In fact, it's so comfortable that you need to force yourself to stay awake now.

Sandwiched between Price and Soap once more is enough to keep you awake, but not for long. Falling asleep seemed impossible in a room with these four guys at first but now you're napping against the shoulder of Price. Eyes closed and breathing steady, body very much relaxed. Price, on the other hand, is as stiff as a rock right now, not wanting to wake you or make this awkward. Gaz is pretty much amused at the sight in front of him, needing to resist a chuckle. The way you're just so relaxed and napping while Price is as tense as steel is also amusing to the other two teammates.

»We're almost there, just five more minutes.« Nikolai’s thick Russian accent is heard through the mic into the headsets, while Price is feeling relieved that you took your own off headset earlier. It's silent, so Nikolai speaks again, confused on why it's silent.

»Everybody alright?« He asks slowly, awaiting for someone to answer positively. »Rookie fell asleep. Trying t' stay quiet.« Ghost answers quietly back, and Nikolai has to fight back the urge to turn around in his seat and take a look himself. A low chuckle escapes him eventually as he shakes his head lightly and continues flying everyone back to base. ----

The debrief was... calm. Awfully calm. No one's arguing, and no one is yelling for no reason, it's just so casual but professional. Maybe your camp was abusive or at least unprofessional, but this almost feels too calm. It feels as if something will go wrong any second, but it doesn't.

Captain is telling everyone what he found on the USB stick, and the new plan and information are being displayed on the wall by a projector. He's going straight to the point and just tells the obvious, facing the team that is seated at a long table. The next big mission should be in about two weeks until everything is planned, it being a more complicated raid, with the main point of taking held hostages from a big building. Eventually, once he's done, his eyes lock on you and seem to become more serious.

»Before this mission, we'll need to train you as much as possible, so you won't make mistakes. Or worse.« You nod in return, already seeing yourself training day and night and trying to improve impossibly fast.

»We'll train all together and work on our teamwork. As well as spare a few rounds together, hm? Sound good?« You nod once more, feeling like this might actually be more pleasant than hard work like your usual training was. »Good.« You reply back, and once everything is settled, everyone can retreat back into their bunks and rest for tonight. ----

This night was restless for you like every other. Sleeping at a completely different and strange place is always off-setting at first. The bed is normal-sized, and there's nothing you would complain about in your own bunk, you just need to get used to it. Or maybe it was the one-hour nap you took before in the helicopter that prevents you from sleeping now. You're just glad no one addressed it later on after you woke up. Tossing and turning, you eventually fall asleep after several hours from exhaustion.

a/n: don't worry, there will be more chapters, just have to refresh my brain about my plot since I haven't touched it in a while... hope you still enjoyed it!

[cerise-on-top]

Hi! Hope you're having a lovely day ✨️

Valeria and Gaz with a fashion designer s/o! Dressing them up and using them as a practice model to test new designs... this has nothing to do with my need to put Valeria in a suit, ofc not

Anon, you're so galaxy brained for wanting to put Valeria in a suit in all honesty! She'd look so good in one because women always look good in suits!

Gaz and Valeria with a Fashion-Designer!S/O

Gaz: He’d honestly be so flattered you wanna use him as a practice model. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a very pretty man and he’s well aware of that fact, but he didn’t think he’d ever get that sort of privilege. The first time you measure him he’s a bit confused, but complies, asking you with a chuckle about what you’re doing. However, as soon as you present him with a jaw dropping suit that leaves every other one in the dust, he’s a big fan. While he may have supported you from the very beginning as soon as he heard that you’re a designer, his support skyrockets as soon as you present him with the first piece of clothing for him to wear. He feels so very fancy wearing it. He may be used to wearing fancy clothing from time to time when invited to certain occasions, such as weddings, but he never really paid much mind to that sort of thing. Once you’ve put the first article of clothing on him, he’ll ask you if you wanna use him as a practice model again at some point. Only if you feel like it, of course. He hopes you’ll say yes, he loves how creative you are and the things you create. You’re a lovely designer who puts their heart and soul into it all, and it shows. Although unprompted and despite it being a bit silly, he’ll also pose and do that one walk models do where they sway their hips. He feels pretty in your clothing. If he can afford it, which he likely can, then he’ll even buy some of the things you’ve made. And yes, he will 100% wear them as well, doesn’t matter if it’s a fish tail or if it’s a shirt with a dragon on it. He unironically loves it and will wear it whenever he can.

Valeria: She chuckles a bit when you ask her to put on some clothing you made. Valeria is a very attractive woman, and she knows it, so she’s not at all surprised when you ask her to put on a suit. She’s worn those before, and every time she has she was turning heads left and right. If you blush while seeing her in a suit then she’ll chuckle and trap you against the wall before letting you continue whatever it was you were doing. Like Gaz she wholeheartedly supports you, and she’ll own every single article of clothing you’ve ever created. While she may not have the time to wear them all every time, you will catch her wearing your creations from time to time, if there’s no danger of them tearing. Valeria’s glad that you trust her enough to want her to try on all your prototypes and will gladly pose like a professional model for you and you only. The first time you measure her she, too, would be a bit confused and would ask you regarding what you’re doing, but afterwards she’s more than happy to model for you whenever she can. She doesn’t have a whole lot of time for that, but the things you do for love. If you ever want a real, professional model, she can arrange one, though, it’s no problem for someone like her. Besides, she has a pretty good eye for fashion as well, so she can give you some hints regarding what could look good and what might be a complete no go. You don’t have to do as she says, but she will point it out if you do. If she ever does find herself having the time and there’s a fashion show that shows some of your clothing, then she’ll watch it and jokingly tell you that she looked better in your clothes than all those models did. If you ever need some creative inspiration then I’m sure Valeria can help you as well, she’s seen plenty of things and is always more than happy to help you. Besides, she can get just about anything as well, so you really don’t need to fret if you wanna feel the fabric of something yourself.

[shyravenns]

Some mermay stuff!! Gaz is a [checks my notes] clownfish? And Farah is pretty 🥰

[the-whispers-of-death]

Smiles & Giggles

*In the recreational room* Stone, reading a letter from Kali: *failing to keep his smile from showing beneath his muzzle-like mask* Soap, watching him in shock: Is.. Is Stone smiling? Ghost, tilting in his head in confusion at what he's seeing: I didn't know he knew how to do that. Gaz, eating popcorn: Do you think he'll start to kick his feet if he keeps reading the letter? Price, shrugging: Anything can happen, he's smiling. He's been getting a lot of letters since Valentine's Day, do you know who's been writing him, Ladder? Whoever it is, they have a lot to say, because that letter's like five pages. Ladder, hiding her smile in her book: A man who Stone is oblivious about being in love with him is writing the letters. Any day now, they'll confess their feelings. Soap, eyes widen: Stone, in love?? Ghost: I shudder to think of the man who's in love with Stone. He's probably scarier. *Meanwhile, in The Lions' barracks in the Shadow Company base* Kali, reading Stone's letter: *chuckling to himself* Nala, feeling homesick: Cap's making me want to write home to my wife. Simba, single and feeling lonely: He's so in love. Cerberus, confused: Kali's been getting letters regularly. Who is he writing to? Sarabi, huffing in annoyance after twelve years of watching Stone and Kali pine after each other: A man who will hopefully be Mufasa's husband in the future. If they ever decide to put me out of my misery. Cerberus: He's exchanging love letters? That's so cute! Nala: They both think they're only best friends, oblivious to other one being just in love with them.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

[ms-scarletwings]

I’m totally playing Devil’s Advocate for Gaz here but every time you think she’s being an absolute demon to her brother and it’s uncalled for, recall the full extent of Dib’s most insufferable and jerkass behaviors, and imagine being under the same roof as that guy every day. Sharing a fridge and pantry with that. Sharing a common living space with that after you’ve already spent a school day with it. You’re like, 11 and just want to play video games and do normal childhood stuff, and you live with Dib Motherfucking Membrane.

Yeah yeah, he got what he deserved for the Pork Taster thing, but I’m pissed off on sis’s behalf just watching how often the dude straight up shows negative amounts of consideration when it comes to someone else’s food. What the hell.

Use me as a guinea pig for dark magical arts and curses? Well, nobody’s perfect bro. We all make mistakes.

Drink the last soda unnotified like that? Fucking yoink my pizza slice out of my own hand??? You are catching some freaking hands you audacious little twerp.

[reds-skull]

Price plays poker properly only when Ghost is involved

(I don't remember how to play poker so they're also playing wrong now)

[s0fter-sin]

so lately i’ve been obsessed with a 141 dancer au

gaz runs classes, has a youtube channel and quickly becomes one of the most sought after choreographers in the music video scene. soap is his dance partner for his classes, he helps run them and does demonstrations with him

ghost is also a choreographer and he’s gaz’s Arch Nemesis

he's famous for never performing his routines, never doing public appearances without his skull mask and being highly exclusive with who he allows to perform his choreo which earns him his name (since he’s a ghost creator). gaz however is a social media darling, his classes and videos regularly doing huge numbers

they both popped up around the same time and are neck and neck in terms of popularity and skill and they immediately rub each other the wrong way

gaz accuses ghost of not actually choreographing his routines himself bc no one has ever seen him dance and ghost thinks gaz is a clout chaser who's just in it for the fame instead of passion

he became a dancer as a way to channel his rage after years of being an underground fighter, the discipline and physicality helping him more than fights ever did. he hates the thought of someone just using it just to get famous when it literally saved his life

deep down they know their accusations are wrong and they have a grudging appreciation for the other's talent but they'd both rather die than admit it

price is a famous dancer turned director they both work with frequently and they always fight over him; trying to get their routines picked for his music videos. he's also the only one in the industry who's ever seen the ghost perform (before he got famous and before the Incident™)

he finally gets fed up with them constantly being at each other's throats and hires them both to work together and choreograph a joint routine. they're both famous in their own right but this video is for a huge artist so neither of them can refuse no matter how much they hate the other

gaz has a gymnastics background but also a ballet background which lends him to a more fluid style whereas ghost’s style is stronger, more masculine with sharper movements so they naturally end up butting heads

then there's soap who has a completely different style altogether, focusing on a more modern, breakdancer style which makes him see everything completely differently

but it also adds to his self-doubt bc he didn't have a formal dance education, he built his entire repertoire by himself. people see him as inferior to gaz who has that very formal, highly disciplined style. his insecurities about only ever being seen as gaz's demonstration partner and that he can only do gaz’s routines so all his skill is just an extension of him instead of being seen as a dancer in his own right forces him to adopt a rigid - destructive - perfectionism in himself and his body

soap meets ghost before the first rehearsal. he gets to the studio early to practice when sees this beautiful man dancing

he has no idea who he is but he moves so seamlessly, almost better than gaz, and he immediately falls a little in love. the man catches him watching in the mirror and he flusters, getting worse as the man just smirks at him and flawlessly completes the routine

soap tries to save face and asks him to teach him the routine he's doing

the man agrees, introducing himself as simon. the style of the routine is familiar to soap but he can't focus on it when simon's hands are on his waist, guiding him through the steps; his chest pressed up against his back. they work together beautifully, picking up each other's body language and dancing together easier and better than they've ever danced with anyone

then gaz arrives and the vibe in the studio immediately changes

simon's easy confidence becomes hostility, pulling up the skull gaiter he'd let hang around his neck as he practically pushes soap behind him to square up to gaz

soap’s shocked when gaz hits back with the same energy until he realises it's the same way he acts whenever he talks about ghost and his stomach drops

he steps out from behind ghost to side with gaz and the betrayal in simon's eyes hurts more than anything he's ever felt

from there it's romeo and juliet; camp gaz versus camp ghost as they fight over every step of the choreo and soap is the poor bastard stuck in the middle

soap tries to channel that “you’re my best friend’s rival, i have to hate you,” mindset but he can’t forget the way it felt to dance with simon

and how much he wants to do it again

[gomzdrawfr]

hi yes its 2.30am I cant sleep anyways I drew myself meeting the cod boys the other day and realize i didnt share it here

it was decided from birb polls so first off

Ghost - Hug

and then Price - I get to decide what I want to do with him (I decided to bite him bcuz I can)

and then Gaz, gave him a kiss

lastly Soap, punch him (I am not sorry)

Bonus when the boys got tired of me and want to send me back

ok i go back eep

[jekyllnahyena]

official f1 au featuring the lads (and later Price, but I wanted to to yeet these out. actually already did Franco but I this is just as much a ground to built of relations tbh)

[appleciderp]

Petition for Activision/Infinity Ward to have proper lighting in vehicles next game. Not only did we miss Soap's funny lil hand movement, but I can't stop thinking about the fact that we can see Price and Gaz in the last cutscene with Alejandro and Rudy.

[oliver-nova]

COD TAGS, THIS IS NOT AO3. YOU DO NOT NEED 100 TAGS ON EVERYTHING. YOU WILL NOT GET MORE EXPOSURE THIS WAY. YOU WILL ONLY GET MORE PEOPLE BLOCKING YOU SO YOUR STUFF DOESNT SHOW IN THE TAGS FOR THEM.

TUMBLR POSTS ONLY SHOW UP IN THE FIRST 5 TAGS AS TRACKED TAGS. STOP TAGGING PEOPLE WHO ARENT IN YOUR FICS/HCS.

STOP DOING THIS THING WHERE EVERY SINGLE COD RELATED TAG GETS TAGS FOR A GHOST/OC FIC. THAT IS ANNOYING.  NOBODY WANTS TO SEE PRICE STUFF IN GAZ’S TAGS STOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP.

THIS ISNT TIKTOK WHERE YOU NEED 200 TAGS FOR STUFF. STOP STOP STOP STOPPPPPPPPPPPP

[jokest3r]

POV: you are playing atomgrad raid 1 and get to the last part

[devilanon]

same anon as before u know the one😎 (the desperate insane one)

first of all, as always. Congragulations for 👏putting 👏that👏big👏guy👏on👏his👏knees👏👏👏, also thank you.

this made me feel all sorts of syrupy and nice, politely asking for more. of whatever, honestly

:D ty