#AQ-Support

[monochromatic14u]

To all new followers, I hope to make it clear that I am a therian/otherkin, but I referred to be called a therian. I identify spiritually and mentally as a snow leopard/ Aq bars, and I wish I had some certain features of said animal.

If you hold any negative feelings towards the otherkin/therian/nonhuman community, you can gladly see yourself out of my small but growing community.

Non-humans have souls too; we have feelings and experience the same misery brought upon us all by life. Don’t make our already difficult lives worse because of your closed-minded attitudes.

We are all just trying to go through this thing called life in the best way we can manage. Allow us and yourself to have a little bit of joy and whimsey in your life.

[ojustice]

gender: prey animal sexuality: herbivore

[vxnuslogy]

— pasalubong.

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

premise: kinich wasn't a sentimental person at heart, until you left to travel. neither was he easily upset, but here he was, undoubtedly upset that you didn't give him a gift with your recent package.

— warnings: ooc-kinich and ajaw (still havent done the new aq), he's a bit down bad, and misses you dearly.

— author's note: this is not angst despite the premise LMFAO. art credits to @.n429g on twt. | 1.6k words.

“delivery for kinich!” a mail man shouted, trying his best to not look down over the ledge the scions of the canopy is held. “delivery for ki—”

“i heard ya!” the small dragon yells, taking the sealed letter and small box from the man’s hands and throws a pouch of mora as thanks. 

the man sweat drops at the comical sight of the tiny dragonlord floating up to where kinich was. said man was dangling his legs over the ledge, hair swaying with the wind and an indifferent look on his face as he swats away his small companion and roughly takes the letter in his hands. he could only assume that the two had started another argument once again.

with a sigh, he cups a hand to his mouth and shouts, “thank you for your patronage!”

kinich looked in his direction and gave him a small nod. there were few postal workers here in natlan, so he made sure to at least pay the man generously—especially with how his legs shake and hand clutch the side of the mountain for dear life.

ajaw continued to punch and tug at his head but his attention had zeroed in on the envelope. it felt heavier than the last and you had sent a small package with it. ‘for my dearest, kinich & almighty dragon lord, ajaw.’ the small note said with your signature right below it as well as a wax seal at the corner. your penmanship makes kinich smile and before ajaw can open his mouth, he takes the grapple on his waist and zips away to find a secluded place to open your gifts. they were sacred to him and therefore had to be treated with utmost care.

when he lands on teticpac peak, he sits down by one of the rocks and gently peels away the seal. kinich makes a mental note to stop by a market to get a new container for all your letters, after all, his bedside drawer can only hold so much of you over the years. 

‘to my dearest, kinich,’

with just four words, you had him smiling like a fool. one hand propped behind his back to support his weight as he leisurely soaks in your stories like a sponge. ajaw sits by his shoulder, impatiently demanding him to open the box that came along with your letter. kinich was not even half way with reading before he relented—you always had a knack for making pages and pages of stories, but he didn’t mind. you have been away for nearly 7 years now and send only a letter or two every few years. kinich learned to appreciate the pages of your love every time they arrive.

“hurry up!” ajaw demanded, waiting with bated breath as kinich opened the box. “learn to be patient, ajaw.”

the dragon only huffed and turned around but it didn’t take long before he dove head first into the array of gifts. while his little companion drowned in material luxuries, kinich took out items in piles and made a mental note to give them to their respective owners.

kinich tucked the small pouch with xilonen’s name along with your letter for her at his side. he will deliver these to her first, he concludes. as he’s sifting through the items, kinich catches a glimpse of ajaw sitting on a toy fox’s head with a small note with kachina’s name. the final item that seemed important was a small box containing colorful seashells with mualani’s name on it.

his brows furrowed in confusion as he sets all the gifts down carefully and sifts through the package one more time. and again, and again, until his lower back felt sore. ajaw noticed his antsy behavior and decided to look at what all the fuss was about. kinich sat down, head lowered with his bangs covering his eyes—ajaw was beginning to worry (but he would rather die than verbally admit it).

“hey!” ajaw turned to kinich who had stiffly stood up. clutching at your letter as the sliver of expectancy in his eyes dimmed. “don't tell me they actually forgot about you?”

“let’s go back,” he says with a subtly sullen voice. “we have to deliver these to the others.”

ajaw makes no further comment and sits on his shoulder as they zip from one place to another. he doesn’t point out the way kinich’s eyes looked duller and the way a frown tugged at his lips—he was upset. 

“hmph! i'll be sure to show them a piece of my mind when they get back!" the dragon complains to him as they arrive back home. kinich beelined his way back to his residence, a bit more aggressive than he normally would.

he doesn’t want to admit that he was upset—it was stupid. so what if you didn’t get him a gift after not hearing from you for almost a year? but how come everyone else had one? hell even citlani and mavuika received one, so why didn’t he?

with a click of his tongue he pushed past all the people in his way, muttering half hearted apologies here and there as ajaw kept calling his name. kinich was not upset nor was he disappointed—he wasn’t a child chasing after the trail of gold you left behind anymore. he was an adult now, someone people look up to and admire. kinich was no longer the shy kid that always wondered if he could ever chase after you.

“kinich!”

with the shout of his name, he was taken back to memory lane. how you would call to him from the ground, a pair of wheels at your feet as you glided through the rocky terrain as if it were made of ice. the smile you flash him as you point to your finish line makes his heart skip a few beats, rendering him only to reply in a nod because his mind has turned into a mushy puddle. 

“kinich!”

you have always been golden in his eyes. smiles bright like the sun, kindness gentle like its morning rays, and hypnotizing in the starry trail you leave behind. kinich remembers the first time he tried his hands on rollerblades. he felt unwittingly afraid of standing on his own two feet, the possibility of his world turning upside down with one single step scared him. but you were always there to ward away his fears. it wasn’t long before he took them off and said with a dead expression that he will never try them again. the laugh that he managed to steal from your lungs made all his suffering worth it.

“kinich!”

he doesn’t like letting things go, not when you’ve taught him how to cherish every little thing. but he’d hate himself if he kept you from your dreams. so there he was, all those years ago, standing by natlan’s borders, unable to say goodbye as the rest bid theirs. you had to make him face you—gently cupping his jaw with both hands and flashing a small smile, giving him a tempting offer.

“let me stay,” you said. you were willing to give up your dreams if it meant making him happy. kinich didn’t want his happiness, he wanted yours.

“leave,” he said bluntly. it made you laugh because it sounded incredibly rude, but the way he held your hand in his shaking hold, lip bitten until it almost bled, everyone knew he was struggling the most.

“i’ll give you souvenirs,” you offered as consultation and it took every willpower he had to say he only wanted you. 

“i’ll keep them safe.” he replied and you smiled.

“kinich!”

urging you to travel has been the best and worst decision in his life—you were enjoying your life but he was stuck missing you. his longing for the sun in his life greatly outweighed his happiness for you. how can he be happy when happiness is spelled with your name? the way you smile, and the way you leave a golden trail?

“kinich.”

“ajaw, enou—” his sentence was cut off when he turned to look at the smiling faces of his tribe. brows furrowed in confusion as he searched the crowd for a certain green dragon, but all his eyes could see was gold.

the wind in his lungs was stolen as the images of smiling faces turn to fade, his attention solely on you in the distance, ajaw by your side as you both waved him over. as fast as the winds could take him, kinich ran straight in your arms—his home. your laugh ringed like morning birds and your hands felt warm like the afternoon heat. you were home; you were his gift.

“pasalubong, for kinich,” you say with a teasing lilt to your voice. 

“pasalubong?” he repeats, hands coming to cradle your smiling face. “what does that mean?”

you smile wider and hold his hands with your own. “it means gifts given by homecomers. but,” you tuck away a stray piece of his hair behind his ear as you tempt him in another embrace. “it can also mean ‘to meet again.’”

kinich laughed—airy and bright, like the setting sun. this was so you, he thought, burying his head in your neck. trying to make up for all the lost physical contact he had missed. 

“thank you for the gift.” he said with a smile.

you pat him on the back and hummed in delight. “i came back just for you.”

“i’m honered,” he jests and takes a step back, not letting your hand go. “you should be! the trip back home is nothing short of tedious!”

he chuckles because kinich knows he’s a goner. no need for xilonen’s amused teasing, mualani’s persistence and kachina’s curiosity. everyone in his tribe and maybe even natlan knew, kinich would wait for you knowing you’ll eventually come home to him.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[underestimated-heroine]

The fact that radfems spread this post around is actually really interesting--infuriating, but interesting. Because what they've really done here is tell on themselves.

This is the shrimp guy story:

From an anonymous green text called "shrimp saved my life" [emphasis mine]:

>be depressed, suicidal xanax- addicted incel >one day I go to my /aq/fag uncle's house for some shit >he has pet shrimp, never seen anything like it before >he offers to get me some 53 KB JPG >throw them in a barely cycled tank with some shitty rock >several shrimp die >realize that I killed them with my apathy >realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life >do research, learn about water parameters and so on >eventually I have a beautiful planted tank with no more deaths >notice a female shrimp carrying eggs >haven't felt this excited about anything in almost a decade >the eggs disappear and I once again think I fucked up >a few days later I see a tiny transparent baby shrimp >l suddenly know how the shepherds felt as they gazed upon the newborn Christ >by this point I live and breathe shrimp >all my spare time is spent on shrimp research and watching shrimp videos >l spend most of the money I had saved from my last job on shrimp products >quit the Xanax to support shrimp spending >start putting effort into college in hope of getting a good job for my shrimp >grades improve, no longer facing the prospect of dropping out >relationship with parents improves since I am finally passionate about something and applying myself >l see genuine happiness in their eyes when I talk excitedly about my shrimp >for my birthday my mom makes me a shrimp cake >it even has fondant legs and little chocolate eggs >cry like a little bitch when I see it >mom hugs me and tells me she's always been proud of me >college dorm neighbours demand to see my shrimp >shit they're gonna think I'm autistic >they actually think my shrimp are really cool >they start inviting me to their social events >start interacting with girls, get told by girls for the first time in my life that I'm fun and smart >l think my shrimp would be proud of me if they knew >We're gonna make it bros. Even if you can't do it for yourself, do it for the animals that depend on you.

He did address his relationship with women. By finding a hobby and passion and working on himself--"touching grass"--he stepped away from the echo chamber that filled him with all this rage and convinced him women were to blame for all of his problems. As someone once wisely observed, "the cure is going offline and realizing it's just. really not that big a deal."

And that is what radfems have not done, so of course they didn't spot the quiet flashpoint of shrimp guy's personal development within his story.

Edit: it's been brought to my attention that the version of the greentext post I lifted the text from was censored by someone else. My bad for not realizing that, tbh it was done so well I thought shrimp guy had done it himself, but that's an important part of the post. I've gone back through and un-censored it. The reply which was spread around with the original post addressed the words themselves well, I think; however distasteful and fucked up the incel rabbit hole is, it doesn't diminish his growth.

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

Let’s talk about one of the most underrated dynamics in Yellowjackets: Nat and Tai

Nat and Tai have such a troubled little sister/protective big sister dynamic that is not talked about enough.

Before the crash, there is clearly a lot of tension in Nat and Tai’s relationship. Their personalities clash a bit, as Tai is driven and ambitious while Nat is more reckless and directionless. Tai doesn’t understand Nat’s drug use and promiscuity and openly criticizes her for it. Tai is focused on the success of the team and she sees Nat and her behavior as an obstacle to this success.

However, I think there is some care behind her harsh statements. We can see her tough love approach towards Nat starting to develop. She wants Nat to get better, she just has a gruff way of showing it.

We see Tai begin to develop more of a softness for Nat after the crash. I think, as Tai begins to experience what it feels what it’s like to be in survival mode (and starts to lose control of herself) as Nat has been for most of her life, she begins to understand Nat and her coping mechanisms more.

Another important part of their dynamic is that they were the last two skeptics remaining in the Wilderness. When Natalie would challenge Lottie, Tai was often the first (and only) person to back her up. They are both grounded in pragmatism and logic.

Nat and Tai also have the shared experience of watching their partners “go the the dark side” (AKA join Lottie’s cult). Van and Travis are arguably some of Lottie’s most devoted followers towards the end of Season 2, and both Tai and Nat struggle to grapple with this and the rift it creates in their respective romantic relationships.

After they are rescued, Taissa manages to pick herself back up while Nat falls apart, and their little sister/big sister dynamic grows even more as a result. Tai pays for Nat’s rehab, tries to keep her away from Travis because she knows he’s bad for her, keeps pulling her back up and trying to keep her on her feet. I think it says a lot that Tai is the first person Nat thinks to call when she’s arrested.

And then, of course, there’s the scene where Tai defends her decision to pay for Nat’s rehab and continue to try to keep her clean. This scene breaks my heart and shows the caretaker role Taissa has taken on for Nat after the crash. She understands why Nat copes the way she does, and she knows that, unlike Shauna and herself, Nat doesn’t have a support system to rely on.

Even when Nat is being crowned as the new AQ I feel like you can see the concern on Tai’s face. Tai pledges her support of Nat’s new leadership, but you can tell she is also wary of the burden being placed on Nat, and how that might affect her.

Tai’s face is somber like she’s worried about her, but she gives Nat’s hand a small little squeeze of reassurance.

Anyways, I just love how Nat and Tai’s relationship transforms and grows over time. Tai has an empathy and care for Nat that the other survivors just don’t seem to have. I can’t wait to see more of their dynamic post-rescue as Tai struggles to keep Nat afloat and pick up the pieces after her toxic stints with Travis.

This has been way longer than I intended it to be, I’ll just leave y’all with this last clip of Nat giving petulant little sister vibes with Tai that I absolutely love…

[amberheardnet]

“After all this time, Aquaman 2 made its splash (sorry, it’s too easy) 💦 Thank you to all of my fans for the overwhelming support and love in Mera’s AQ return. Thank you so much❤️”

AMBER HEARD VIA INSTAGRAM.

[heardsource]

After all this time, Aquaman 2 made its splash (sorry, it’s too easy) 💦 Thank you to all of my fans for the overwhelming support and love in Mera’s AQ return. Thank you so much❤️ #aquaman

AMBER HEARD via Instagram (January 3, 2024)

[serenaew]

Donations for Potions and Snitches site renewal

Hey, fellow Severitus lovers!

Potions and Snithces, THE archive for Severitus fiction, is due for renewal this year, and is in need of your help!

If you have a knut to spare, or a moment of your time to reblog, please consider giving it to P&S. To me, the archive opened doors to worlds I had not previously known, and cemented my love for Severitus. Dare I even say, I wouldn't be in fandom still. Heck, I'm not sure I'd have ever posted my first fanfic, not to mention all following fanworks.

I, for one, am grateful to all the contributors, especially mod @jan-aq who gives all her spare time - and, if I had to guess, quite some of her money - for maintaining this archive.

If you feel similarly, please consider donating and/or reblogging. You can find all the information on how to financially support P&S here:

Thank you.

Cheers,

Serena

[mndvx]

amberheard After all this time, Aquaman 2 made its splash (sorry, its too easy) 💦 Thank you to all of my fans for the overwhelming support and love in Mera’s AQ return. Thank you so much❤️

[not-5-rats]

Holy shoot it's been a while but here we are again ig

Bug Army Questions/ Scenarios! Also quick warning but I really do ramble on here sorry <3

(The new au talk gave me some ideas lol)

1) Smth that makes them cry like instantly?

2) Modern! AU

What's their go-to cinema/ theatre snack?

3) Opinion on velvet? (the fabric)

4) Yandere AU! (Check @strayharmony943 acc for list of Yandere Bugs/ the obsessed/ to enlist ur Bug)

For the Yandere Bugs: who are they obsessed with? why?

For the Bugs being obsessed over: how do they feel abt smbdy being obsessed with them?

For the rest of the Army: how do they support those who are being obsessed over?

5) Scenario #1 - back to Yandere AU! :D

Bug had noticed that Chester's behaviour had been slightly odd recently. He hadn't spent much time out of his room, Bug doesn't remember the last time they spoke, the biggest pointer that something was up was the flower beds...all the flowers were dead. He hadn't even come out to water them

Bug decided they would go check in on him, just to see if he was okay...if he was even alive. They knocked on his door, no response, they knock3e again, still nothing, so they announced that they were coming in and pushed the door open

Chester had been staring into a wardrobe but as soon as Bug entered the room he roughly pulled a the door of said wardrobe shut, hiding whatever was in there from view. He turned quickly to look at them. His eyes were bloodshot and wild yet he tried to regain his composure.

"*Bug*! What are you doing in here?"

It wasn't till now that Bug got a true look at the room...it was a mess? Chester was usually so well put together, so neat, so pristine but now there were clothes everywhere, grime/ dust covered every surface, dead plants surrounding the entire area...what tf happened?

Chester is staring at Bug waiting for their answer as they try to silently usher them out of his room

6) Continuing from Scenario #1

It had been a few days since Bug had went to check on Chester, they had failed to find out what was in that wardrobe but today they seemed to have found a way

Nobody knows where he went but Chester suddenly dissapeared from the house and Bug decided to take the chance and find out what's om the wall. They knew he could be back any moment so they had to act fast.

They snuck into the room, being mindful that Chester may have set up some sort of trap to harm those who came in when he was gone...luckily there wasn't anything. They cautiously made their way over to the wardrobe, pulled it open and....

Photos, poems, flowers, gifts...what? They stared at the wall until they finally realised what they were looking at, a shrine. They picked up one of the many photos that lay there, it was a photo of Duarte training in the forest nearby...they didn't seem aware that the photo was taken, they looked at another Ulysseus playing their flute to some of the Baby Bugs.

As they scanned the rest of the contents of the wardrobe they found that everything linked back to those two, the photos were all of them, (if there was smbdy else in the picture they were scribbled over in bold, black ink) the poems all abt them, flowers with labels describing why they reminded Chester of the two, letters addressed to them and gifts they had given him/ gifts he intended to give to them.

Holy shit...he was watching them, constantly. He was fucking obsessed with them!

What do they do with this new, sparkling information?

☆---------------☆

Huge thank you to Duarte/ @puffin-smoke and Ulysseus/ @lunaritychuwolf for sacrificing their Bug to this awful fate <3

Tags -

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy @stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @recated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @astralbulldragon13 @ccstiles @puffin-smoke @fruity0salad @takashishihoin @reefhastoomanyaccs

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

In response to your Graves post, it actually makes sense that Farrah would still consider him and Sheperd allies. Those 3 missiles that got stolen were probably going to Farrah. Which means Sheperd and Shadow Company were still supporting the ULF after America officially pulled out. Plus According to DMZ info, Shadow Co. has still still been nominally operating in Al Mazra against AQ despite everything that’s happened. And now, with Konni (and potentially Makarov) operating in Farrah’s backyard, who’s still there helping the ULF? Graves and Shadow Co.

Sorry, had to stan my boy Graves 🇺🇸

You're absolutely right and you should say it. Shepherd has always been an ally of the Urzik forces, same as Shadow Co.

That's why I love Graves as a character. Bro's just doing his job 😭 Yeah he was kind of a lunatic a bit there but he does his part so well 🪦

[crazymushroomvee]

HII SORRY FOR BEING DEAD

I have a teaser for my WIP ready, yay!

This is also a different timeline, not au

The readers character (only mentioned in the teaser) is inspired by @bellgraves !!

The Bakery..?

NOT GOING TO BE WRITTEN

There are no warnings yet.

"I got an extra job for you boys." Laswell added during a mission debrief.

"How many needed Kate?" Price's gruff tone questioned. Soap, Ghost and Gaz kept quiet and listened.

"Two, and we can't provide much outside support.." She sounded a little annoyed.

"Why? What kind of mission is this?" Ghost piped up sounding slightly puzzled. It was strange to have little support.

"We got a hot tip. Graves told us about an arms dealer who supposedly has links with Konni, AQ, and even El Sin Nombre. Mostly sells Intel and weapons." Kate sighed.

"How does Graves know all of this? What's his source?" Gaz added suspicious.

"We don't know.. John, who are you sending?" She didn't seem to trust the Intel herself.

"Me and the Sargent will go." Ghost followed up, gesturing to Soap. He got a curt nod in reply from the Sargent.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

OKAY, SO WHAT WE THINKING YES OR NO? (I had so many different versions, that's why it took so long.)

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Chapter 6

Summary: Rory arrives in Urzikstan, meets Gaz for the first time, and reads Price to filth

Warnings/tags: Minors DNI - swearing, mentions of manipulation, smoking, flirting, character with trauma, British slang, military inaccuracies, established relationship, toxic relationship dynamic, war criminals in love

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

Word count: 4.2 k

[AO3]

October 29, 2019 0430 - US Army Base, Urzikstan

The last rumble of the plane's landing gears hitting the tarmac stirred Rory from her less than restful sleep, her eyelids shooting open as the juttering skid of screeching rubber and bouncing shocks caused the shell of the plane to creak around her. Her body clock was completely rattled and left her playing catch up across time zones – that three and a half hour difference could be the straw that broke the camel’s back if a soldier wasn’t prepared. Unfastening her seatbelt, she stood up once the aircraft finally came to a full stop, stretching out her sore back and shoulders after being trapped in the same cramped position for hours. Every bone and joint crunched and popped like rice cereal. Twelve years of this shit and it wasn’t getting any easier on her body. Scooping up her duffel and swinging it over her shoulder, the weight of it cut into her with the heft of a butcher’s cleaver through tender meat. The shoulder injury she had received in Russia never had properly healed, an uncomfortable reminder of the not so distant past and what she was fighting for. 

Weaving through the crates, she stood at the top of the ramp at the tail end waiting for it to lower with the all clear from the crew and pulled out her pack of smokes from the pocket of her fatigue pants, slipping a cigarette between her lips. Amber lights inside started to blink, strips on the ramp lit up shortly after and the loud clank and boom of mechanisms lowering the ramp began to whirr. Cupping her hand around her lighter, shielding the flame from the gust of air blowing past her as the hull opened like a gaping maw, she lit her cigarette and made her way in a steady march down towards the ground below. Her feet back on solid earth with that unwelcome crunch of sand under the tread of her boots. 

“Morning, Sergeant.” Kate stood there on the edge of the tarmac, Rory’s only welcoming party member, her arms crossed over her chest. Unease . She could read it all over the American’s face. Looking like a slapped backside, lips twisted into a grimace, eyes weary – it didn’t take a genius to know that something was wrong no matter how cool a facade the CIA Station Chief wished to present. “You look like you could use this more than I could right now,” Rory said, passing her cigarette to the older woman without hesitation.

Laswell accepted the gift of nicotine and placed it between her lips. “Much appreciated.” Taking a long drag, she breathed out a heavy sigh full of smoke and frustration. “Things didn’t go as planned with Sulaman.” Leading her back towards the base, Kate had that no nonsense look about her as she moved with steady steps. A shock hit Rory like a bucket of ice water being poured down her back and her jaw clenched in response, she needed to know just how bad the situation was. Preparation was key when entering a shitstorm like this. “ Meaning ?” “AQ and their supporters attacked the embassy last night; breached the containment on Sulaman. There were significant casualties, including the ambassador. Alex and Farah are headed to a position to flank the escape route now. Price and Garrick arrived back here roughly an hour or so ago.” “Fucking hell,” Rory muttered, rubbing a hand on the back of her neck, scuffing her boots as she walked. “Quite the time for my arse to arrive, eh?” “Would’ve liked to have given you a proper welcome.” With a brief half grin, Kate handed the cigarette back to her.

In the darkness of pre-dawn, the burning orange tip glowed like a torch as Rory inhaled, unwavering even with the breeze that ruffled through her hair. This was a mess that needed to be scraped off, cleaned up – and fast. Shrugging it off, she continued her even pace with Laswell. “Please, as if I need the bloody pomp and circumstance,” muttering around the cigarette in her mouth, readjusting the strap of her bag. “Just let me get settled and acquainted with the place and I’ll be all yours.”

Giving her a quick squeeze of her upper arm, Kate leaned in, voice kept low. “John is –”

“In a foul fucking mood, I presume?” Tipping her head to the side, Laswell pursed her lips slightly. “You could say that, yeah.” A very careful way of saying he was absolutely fuming but was keeping it under his carefully controlled guise of stoicism. Rory knew well enough that John wouldn’t have let someone like ‘The Wolf’ get away without a reason. With the Captain, it was dead or alive, escape was rarely ever an option and certainly not one given lightly. He must have been forced to cut his losses, preferring to live to fight another day, but she could already imagine the sting that decision left in his gut. She rolled her eyes to the heavens with a heavy sigh and raked her fingers through the roots of her hair before tossing the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out, the few fading embers left to drift out and die in the sand.  “I’ll see to him first then.”

Behind the barracks – out of sight, out of mind – she found John leaning against the wall shrouded in smoke, thick grey clouds of it spilling from his lips masking the furrowed brow and darkened stare while he stood with his arms crossed, looking out over the grounds of the base. Broad shoulders locked in a hunch, nostrils flared – oh yeah, he was definitely pissed . She dropped the stealth and moved so as not to startle him, her steps heavier to alert him to her presence. Her gaze dragged over him, noticing the tenseness in his body. He always carried his burdens physically, it certainly made it easier to know when to tread lightly. “Figured I’d find you somewhere you could be alone but still have your eyes on everything,” she whispered softly. Price said nothing, his eyes shifting to glance sideways, his face blanketed by shadow under the brim of his boonie hat with only the orange glow of his Villa Clara burning to give away his position. It was still dark, the deep navy sky scattered with a million white specks, scenery bathed in silvery moonlight before the sun would finally crack the horizon. “Perfect for brooding out here, eh?” she teased gently, moving closer to lean beside him on the wall, brushing her arm against his. 

A low grumble followed by the puff of smoke was all she was going to get from him. Should have known better than to try and lighten the mood right now . It was always a 50/50 toss up as to whether it would work, but it was the least she could do rather than letting him stew inside his head. “Saw your plane come in,” he said between clenched teeth, chomping down on his cigar. “How was the ride?” “Bit shaky.” The toe of her boot dug at the blue tinted sand, drawing stripes into it. “Nothing I’m not used to though.”

Nodding, he shifted his shoulders against the cement wall as he transferred his weight from one foot to the other having stood in one spot for too long. “Laswell told you what happened, yeah?” John’s voice was rough, hoarse. Too much time spent barking out orders while under enemy fire, his throat left to pay for that. “Yeah,” she breathed, resting her hands behind her back, pressing her fingertips into the abrasive texture of the wall, nails digging at the little divots and chalky imperfections in the construction. “Yeah, I’ve been made aware.” “Fuckin’ cock up,” he snarled, shaking his head.

“Yeah, and we’ll sort it.”

The ridges in his brow creased, every line in his face deepening as his nose wrinkled and his lip twisted as he growled, “We had ‘im, Ror.” His finger curled around his cigar as he pulled it from his mouth, punctuating his words with a stabbing motion. “Right fuckin’ there.” Rubbing a gloved hand down his face, he sighed and looked up at the sky. 

Hazel eyes followed blue as he stared at the twinkling stars slowly fading while the sun worked to rise. Out here, away from the city lights and the pollution, every constellation was clear. A beautiful sight when you weren’t in fear of being shot at, bullets whizzing past like angry wasps, it gave a person the opportunity to truly appreciate them. Moments like this in a warzone were rare, even if it was merely the quiet before the storm. “Nothing’s ever easy, is it?” Rory rolled onto her shoulder, turning to face him as she peered under the brim of his hat to look up at his steely eyes. His gaze flickered over to her, blue depths made especially icy after the failure of the hand-off of The Wolf. “Just once –” he grumbled.

A huffed laugh slipped from her as she rested her weight against the wall. “You’re preaching to the choir, my darling.” Pulling the hat from his head, John brushed his hand back and forth through his hair, roughing up the short lengths. “They were organized, AQ’s banner is bigger than just Sulaman. Has a piece of work as his right hand man too – the Butcher .” He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “Just lucky you weren’t there, sweetheart…” Her gut clenched at that, he was saving her the gory details which meant it was something he knew would have likely triggered her – women and children begging to be saved more than likely. She rested her hand on the back of her neck, something to keep it busy, to hide the tremor that still clung there. “Well, it’s not exactly like you’re without your assets too, eh?” Lifting her brow as she offered him a small grin, Rory tried to change the subject. “Speaking of – when do I get to meet this Sergeant Garrick?”

“That’ll have to wait. Ordered him to get some rest.” “But of course you didn’t take your own advice.” She rolled her eyes and smiled, sarcasm dripping from her words, “Surprise, surprise.” “Bugger that.” He took another pull of his cigar, looking at her from under his heavy brow. “Can’t sleep, waitin’ on word from Farah.” Rory nodded, giving a little hum as she looked out at the horizon in the distance, musing on the exploits of the commander of the Urzikstan Liberation Force. “She’s an impressive one, that one, isn’t she?” 

With a slight smirk, the corner of his mouth tugged upwards. “Do I have to be worried that you’re gonna get tired of me with her around, darlin’?” John asked, shooting her a half-joking accusatory look. Quick to give him a playful smack to the arm in return, she snickered at his jab. “Oi! I’ll have none of that. You’re stuck with me for the long haul, remember?”

John wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in against him, fingers gripping at the side of her, thumb rubbing small circles against her hip. “That’s right, my girl.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he rested his chin atop her head, eyes scanning their surroundings. “No one else for ya, but me,” he murmured into her hair in a low gravel. “Says the man who wasn’t even there to greet me as I got off the plane,” she said with a smirk. “Don’t think I’m forgetting about that, I'm not letting you off easy.” Pulling away just enough to look down at her, his hands wrapped around her arms, his head lowering to meet her gaze. “I’ll make it up to you later, shall I?”

“You better,” she said with a cheeky grin, wrapping her arms around his waist, holding him tight. “Love you, prat.”

His chest rumbled with a quiet chuckle as he exhaled smoke from the corner of his mouth away from her, his fingers combing through her silky hair as he held her tighter against his body. Ensnaring her in his embrace, pressing her against his bulk as he laid another kiss on her forehead. 

Hours passed and servicemen milled around as the base started to come to life with the rising of the sun. Under a large tent with several long tables and chairs, Price and Rory sat together eating breakfast, chatting and laughing. Their forks poking at scrambled eggs, strips of bacon being torn and savored as they sipped their coffee – couldn’t trust Americans to make a proper cuppa, after all . Cutlery scraped against their trays between conversation when a clearing throat and a pulled out chair broke the comfortable air between the couple. “Sir, any word?” Gaz asked, settling into the seat beside Rory, giving her a friendly little nod. Judging by that introduction, Rory could only assume John had failed to mention to his newfound sergeant that she was even coming at this point, keeping his cards close to his chest, and here she was, some random stranger in fatigues.

“Not yet,” Price said, motioning towards the female sergeant at the table. “Garrick, I’d like you to meet Sgt. Rory Sinclair of the SRR,” he rumbled. “She’ll be joinin’ us for the rest of the mission.” Deep brown eyes fell on her, the young sergeant’s expression softening towards her as she extended her hand for him to shake. She had always painted an unassuming picture, especially when compared to someone like Price. The guise of the ‘Lamb’ still held, despite the world trying to swallow her whole and the innocence having long since faded from her. 

“Pleasure to meet you ma’am,” Gaz replied, treating her to a charming smile as his hand wrapped around hers, grasping it in a firm shake. His hand was softer than John’s, less wear and tear from years of service, fewer calluses and ingrained dirt in the lines of the skin. Still fresh faced with hope in his eyes – she had forgotten what that even looked like until now. “Oh, please, no.” She shook her head, smiling warmly. “None of the formality. I might sound like I have a stick shoved up my arse, but I assure you, that’s not me.” Their hands parted as they both turned back to their meals. “The pleasure’s all mine,” Rory added with a little nod. 

John hummed, “Don’t let the poncy accent fool you, Kyle. This one here’s as hard as they come,” he said, tipping his head in her direction. “Ain’t that right, Sinclair?”

Her attention steered towards the Captain, a smirk pulled at her lips as she cocked her brow. “Thank you, sir.” Clearing her throat, she sipped her coffee and glanced sideways at the new sergeant appraisingly. It was easy to tell he wasn’t a veteran like her and Price, he carried himself differently than they did – didn’t appear quite so cynical and world-weary, perhaps. He made her curious. “Where’d you serve, Garrick? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.” “I didn’t,” He said with a soft grin, his thumb tapping against the warm mug of coffee. “I’m not army, ma’am – CTSFO.” Gaz shifted his shoulders a little and tucked into his food. 

Rory tried her best not to show any sort of reaction to this tidbit of information, remaining straight faced as her gaze lifted to meet Price’s, gauging his reaction to her questioning. She couldn’t help herself, knowing it was better to reserve her judgements and that trusting John’s opinion was paramount, yet she couldn’t help the initial bug that wriggled in her ear. “Oh, Police …” She nodded to herself. “Right then,” she said, filling the awkward silence as she prodded at her food with her fork. 

It didn’t help that she had been raised with a healthy distrust in the police, her father being a criminal defense barrister meant that he spent a fair share of his time pointing out the flaws in evidence collection and questioning, pinpointing where things went wrong so his clients’ names could be cleared. It wasn’t fair to the Sergeant to immediately be painted with the same brush as other police officers, especially considering how quickly people were to show bias towards soldiers simply for serving - though in her case, she likely deserved those wide strokes of the brush. “Well, at least you’re used to the whole anti-terror side of things, not completely innocent to all this, eh Garrick?” “Seen my fair share of things, yeah.” His smile remained, not wavering despite her questioning – he carried a quiet confidence. “Piccadilly, now the embassy.” Gaz shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth, ending her line of questioning. “It was his intel that led us to the house in Camden Town,” Price added. “You don’t say.” She glanced up at Price before redirecting her focus back to Garrick with a smug little grin. “Got something to prove then, yes?” “Just like you did.” John leaned his head down towards her, looking up at her through his creased brow in a challenge. 

She was pushing her luck and she knew it, slipping into her old routine of reading a person like they were a target she had strapped down to a chair to interrogate, rather than an ally. Zeroing in on the weak spots to tear them down, aiming for the jugular – an unnecessarily brutal reaction upon first meeting someone, but a natural defense she had built up over the years all the same.    “Quite right.” Rory grimaced and had the last sip of her coffee. “Well, nothing wrong with some new blood added to the team, yeah? Was in your position once myself. I look forward to working with you, Sergeant.” She stood up, collecting her dishes. “And if Price trusts you, then suppose I can too.” Patting Gaz’s shoulder, she moved away from the table to bring her dishes over to the dish pit bins. 

Walking away from the mess tent, she pulled the packet of cigarettes from her pocket and made her way over to the designated smoker’s section, tapping the carton against her thigh as she moved. Christ. she forgot how terrible she could be at making first impressions. It was no wonder her father had given up on trying to get her to meet his high society friends and associates, she had no bloody time for any of them and was too quick to nitpick at the flaws – not that she was any better. Pot meet kettle. 

Finding an empty patch of sand to stand in, she slipped a cigarette from the pack and brought it to her lips, pulling out her lighter next, following every step in the smoker’s ritual she had become tied to, the motions becoming just as much of an addiction as the shot of nicotine into her body with each puff. When the heavy crunch of boots – seemingly from out of nowhere – caught her off guard, the cigarette snatched away from her by large, rough hands. “Oi!” Turning to face Price looming over her, he blotted out the sun from the sky as he crossed his arms over his chest, her cigarette held firmly between his fingers. “What was that?” he rasped.

“What was what?”

Met by his stern countenance in response to her feigned innocence, her brows furrowed. “I was just trying to figure out why you picked him, is all. You always have a reason for everything. I was curious.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Ror.” He shook his head and leaned down, further encroaching into her personal space. “Might not be a veteran like us, but he has it in ‘im. I can see it. That drive to make things right.” Eyes narrowing, she tilted her head and the cogs turned inside it. “No matter the cost?” His hands wrapped around the shoulder straps of his tactical vest, reacting with a bounce of his heels. “Eventually, yeah.” The corners of her mouth tugged into a small smirk. There it was . That little bit of pride that John couldn’t hide as it bubbled up to the surface, knowing he had Garrick right where he wanted him. 

If a person was to scrape off enough layers on anyone who worked in the world they did, eventually it would be found that when sufficient time was spent inside the life a rot would set in. Casual acquaintances, colleagues, family, friends, lovers – they all fell prey to the same form of thinking, every little nugget of information was a tool to be used. They could be someone that was trusted, and still the ability to exploit them existed in the back of the head. She knew John had a vault of secrets to be used against her, and in an act of mutually assured destruction she could promise the same thing about him – Laswell was no different. They were all in this same boat together, and now, Price had invited someone else to sink into this tar pit trap with them. “I know it wasn’t just his drive you chose him for, John. Every fucking soldier has drive and you’ve got the pick of the litter – there’s always something more. An eagerness, a hunger.” Rory pressed her finger into the thick material of his vest covering his chest. “That’s what you look for. And the fact that he doesn’t have years of military training under his belt? Well, that just means he’s all the more malleable, yeah?” Her self-satisfied smile painted her lips as her brow cocked. “The perfect little protege. He's a blank canvas to mold to your liking.”

“Ror –”

“Oh come on, John. Taking him under your wing, teaching him about how the world really works – or at least according to Captain Price, where the mission and its success is absolute. You've struck gold with this one, eh?” The sardonic grin grew on her face, knowing she had him dead to rights as he glared at her. “Tell me I'm wrong then. Acting mentor to someone who's none the wiser, who never had to go to war. You're in your element now, love.” 

Cold, mirthless blue eyes landed on her and she met him with her haughty smirk. His brand of intimidation had never struck the fear into her it was supposed to – he had other tools that worked far better in his arsenal. She was the rare soul who could stand up to John Price because she knew he was wrapped around her little finger in the end, and just like he had assumed all those years ago in the desert when they were alone together, she had learned to read him like a book despite that unknowable gaze and the things that lurked behind it. “You like the control, John. Always have. I knew that getting into bed with you – it’s no skin off my nose,” she said with a little shrug. “You like being the handler who knows what to say and do to get us all to follow your lead. You say ‘jump’, we say ‘how high’.” 

Shaking her head, Rory mused over the fact that this man’s whole persona had become so intrinsically linked with his rank, the power dynamics that came with it, and the weight he wielded against others – herself included – yet at the same time, the more tied together they became the more she held him by the scruff of the neck over the fact that he wasn’t willing to see her harmed again, to ever lose her. “The feeling of success is strong, but being able to wield failure against someone, that’s all the more powerful, isn’t it?” She scoffed, the smile never leaving her face. “And here I thought you might have turned over an altruistic new leaf.” 

He cut the distance between them, hunching forward, their eyes locked. “Weren’t you the same as him? Gave you a shot and look at you now, my girl. Not a single soul in the world I trust more than you, and that’s sayin’ something.” She sighed, her mouth drawn in a straight line as she lowered her voice, “Well let’s hope you don’t decide to fall in love with him too then, eh?”

“Just you, my girl.” He smirked at her, all the lines on his face crinkling. “That honor’s all yours.” Gripping her chin in his hand, he tipped her face up to look at him as he slipped her cigarette back between her lips. Steely eyes narrowed, flicking from her lips to her eyes, drawing her in with his husky whisper, “Now, be a good girl, and stop pushin’ buttons. Clear?”

Rory’s breath hitched in her throat, but she maintained control of each little reflex and tic. “Yes, Captain . Crystal.”

Pulling the lighter from his vest, he flipped open the lid and held the flame to her cigarette tip, letting it burn and smoke. The glow reflected in his irises as he looked down at her, the predatory gaze lingering for a moment as the fire weaved back and forth as it flickered. “You’re lucky we’re on base right now, you know that?” He husked, flicking the lid shut on the lighter, staring at her for a moment longer than necessary before stepping away and leaving her to her cigarette. 

Now she definitely needed the fag.

[intogenshin]

Cyno timeline

Around Deshret's fall

Hermanubis founds the city of Tulaytullah alongside his tighnarian companions and establishes the Temple of Silence

The tradition of the Rite of Duels is initiated

Around Gurabad's time

The temple is attacked and Hermanubis divides himself into fragments of power that his subjects in the temple can use

The tighnarians emigrate to the forest

Before Rukkhadevata's death

The temple priests wear helmets that honor Hermanubis tighnarian origins

Rukkhadevata calls for Hermanubis priests (including Kasala) to guard seven temples in the desert infused with the power of dendro/life

Presumably, the Akademiya and the Temple of Silence begin collaboration

After Nahida's birth

400 years ago the temple and the Akademiya cut ties

The temple becomes recluse in the desert

The Akademiya keeps a fake branch for the Temple of Silence for appearances

Around two decades ago

Cyrus gets lost in the desert and is saved by the Temple of Silence

Cyrus joins in their research to find a host for Hermanubis ba fragments

Cyno is found to be a potential candidate and his parents sell him to the temple

Both Cyno and Sethos resonate with the ba fragments

The temple considers giving the two fragments to one of the children

Cyrus steals Cyno and takes him to the Akademiya

Unspecified time before the events of the game

Cyno grows up with fevers and pain but always feels the spirit supporting him

Lisa studies 2 years in the Akademiya and takes pictures of Cyno and Cyrus

Cyno joins the Akademiya in the Spantamad darshan

Cyno suffers discrimination in the city due to his origins and grows avoiding lies

Cyno joins the matra and partners up with Taj, who describes him at the time as someone who always pushed forward

While reading a book about the cardinal sins, Cyno stops to ruminate about the sin of divulging secrets without fear and gains a vision

Afterwards, he attends his ceremony to become General Mahamatra

Cyno hears about Tighnari and conducts a research, but finds him to be harmless and they become friends

4 years before the events of the game

Lisa sends a letter to the Akademiya to request Cyrus's help

Cyno goes to Mondstadt to seal the god Dottore put inside Collei

Cyno takes Collei to live with Tighnari in the forest

Pre-Sumeru chapter

A year prior Taj's son commits suicide and Taj retires to an administrative position

Cyno suspects the sages of malpractices when Azar denies him access to the details of their project

Cyno exiles himself to investigate and tells Tighnari not to contact him

Sumeru chapter

Cyno hears Alhaitham discussing a mission against a blond traveler with the sages and tracks him to Aaru Village, where he confronts Alhaitham with an ambush styled as an assassination (and his own personal touch, according to the scribe)

They're forced to remain civil, but Cyno no longer distrusts Alhaitham

Cyno mentions he hasn't been to the desert in years

Traveler tells Cyno that Lesser Lord Kusanali is real

An earthquake opens up the path inside the ruins of Kasala's grave, where the truth about the three god kings is revealed

Cyno pays respects to priest Kasala

After finding out the goal of the sages' secret project and the traveler's adventure in Sumeru, Cyno has a revelation about his purpose

Rahman's men become allies

Nahida is rescued and Cyno confronts Azar on her behalf

Cyno tells Azar that the Akasha can no longer predict his moves and that "people change"

Cyno regains his position as General Mahamatra

Aftermath of aq

Cyno oversees the project for education in Aaru Village alongside Setaria, who he works for as a bodyguard

Cyno sq 1 (unspecified time, possibly during the events of the aq)

The Court of Desolation is presented as an allegory for forbidden knowledge, as regardless of its authenticity people still give up their lives (figuratively and literally) for it, which justifies the role of the matra in the region so they can protect those who attempt the forbidden

Taj gives up his life to seal the Court under the sands

Cyno asks him to say hi to his son (but doesn't say goodbye in the original Chinese dialogue)

Cyno expresses his grief through the desire to plant flowers that can withstand the desert whether in Taj's grave, which is kept secret to the public

Alhaitham sq (aq aftermath)

During Alhaitham's time as acting Grand Sage, the Matra's authority is solidified within the Akademiya as an independent organism from the sages

Unspecified

Cyno poses as the model for King of Invokations novel

Cyno makes sure to give vacations to his subordinates

Windblume

Tighnari and Cyno accompany Collei on her trip to Mondstadt's Windblume festival

Dehya covers for Cyno in the Akademiya and Candace works as Setaria's bodyguard in Aaru Village

Cyno meets his favorite TCG artist, Albedo alias Calix, and commissions a dragon themed cardback

Collei and Tighnari are shown to despise his jokes (in a friendly manner)

After Dirge of Bilqis

Cyno begins investigating what happened to the Tanit tribe

Parade of Providence

Cyno participates in the competition representing the Spantamad darshan in order to win the special Genius Invokation special edition card

Cyno loses the competition but buys the card from the winner, Kaveh, who had no understanding of its value and offered to give it to him for free

Pre-Fontaine chapter

Charlotte writes a piece about Cyno in The Steambird

Cyno meets Kirara and works alongside her and the traveler to uncover the mystery of the card thief

Cyno's sq 2

The leader of the Temple and Silence and his adoptive grandson, Sethos, lure Cyrus into the temple

Cyno goes after him alone, but is joined by Tighnari and traveler later

The temple detain Cyrus and offer an exchange for Cyno's ba fragment, which Cyrus opposes

Tighnari reminds Cyno he earned his fragment

Tighnari proposes to find a resolution through the ancient Rite of Duels

Cyno fights Sethos and wins, Sethos gives up his fragment

Cyno appoints Sethos as the leader of the Temple of Silence, since his place is in the Akademiya

The Akademiya and the Temple of Silence begin cooperation again, as per the leader's plans

Cyno doesn't hold anything against Cyrus

[imjustsocute]

Liisa “Kettu” Korhenen [Call Of Duty: OC Remake]

PERSONAL INFOMATION

Date of birth: December 2nd 1997

Age: 27 (In 2024)

Blood Type: B+

Nationality: Finnish

Birthplace: Oulu, Finland

Languages Spoken: Finnish (native), Swedish, English, German, Korean

PHYSICAL INFORMATION

Gender: Female

Eye Color: Sky blue

Hair Color: Light Blonde

Build: Slim

Height: 5’3/160 cm

Weight: 121 lbs/ 55 kg.

Marks: Freckles at face, shoulders, arms and thighs

AFFILIATIONS

Finnish Defence Forces

Karelia Brigade

Nordic Battlegroup

EU Battlegroup

BIOGRAPHY

Born in Oulu, Finland with a silver spoon in one’s mouth. As a young mistress of Korhenen she had everything like a general mistress has, whether it be appearance, good at sports, being the top 1 of the class and beloved of many friends. Even she had a happy life in school, A family who always supported her and a wealthy but what Kettu actually need was something which she couldn’t explain. It was ‘challenge’.

At the age of 18 she joined the military, Finnish Defence Foreces. With her small physical size and not quite good at close combat with a large fighter or muscle fighter made her unsuitable candidate for tactical assault unit. Later she was joined Karelia Brigade as a marksman to backup team. Mostly Kettu likes to stealth or surprise attack from behind enemies because of avoid to confront them with different size. Also she is the fastest movements and good at hiding like a fox hunting the pray.

In 2022, She was later in EU Battlegroup. She assigned to backup the insertion specialist team which took down an Al-Qatala cell in Berlin. And that’s how Kettu and König have met for the first time she eliminated an AQ Fighter who trying attack König from behind he appreciated her at the first sight that she saved him. From that day they almost in the same team and missions. Ketttu always greeting and talking first made König feels more comfortable and relaxing from anxiety and stresses when she near him. It’s look like they both have a good time together during a mission.

SKILLS AND ABILITIES

Fighting Style: Freestyle

Weapon(s): Long range weapons, assault rifles or shortgun

Distinct Weapon: m1911, KA-BAR Becker

Special Skills: Specializes in stealth kill, Marksmanship, Climbing, fast movements

Shortcomings: Cannot confront a larger fighter directly because of her physical size

PERSONALITY

Myers Briggs Type: ENFJ-A [Kettu is an omnivert, She likes to make a new friends whoever her met with, she’s a talkative one if you’re her close friends(Example: König). Sometimes she wants to sit still and sleep in warm blanket distance from outside world but mostly she enjoys talking to people. She’s unselfish person, help and cheer up her teammates who gets sad or hopeless.]

Optimism: No matter how situations are getting worse, Kettu always had a positive thinking more than you expected.

Easy-going: She’s not quite take a serious about her life much, she just wants to adventure and chill out.

Patient: When she’s in a stealth mode, Kettu has a plenty of plans in her mind to sneak attack enemies behind, she’s stalking them to analyst numbers of enemy and learn how to deal with them. Maybe she climbs to high ground and watching them

NEGATIVE TRAITS

Masking: Kettu doesn’t want the others have to worry about her so she has keep pretend to be fine even her feelings is drowning in the grief.

Naughty: She likes to prank her friends a lot for some fun and teases them normally. Didn’t listen their warnings or swears which they spilled she continues to tease her beloved friends because it’s so funny. (Especially König)

FAMILY

Parents: Otso Korhenen (Father), Elsa Korhenen (Mother)

Sibling(s): Noel Korhenen (Older brother)

Grandparents: Onni Korhenen (Grandfather), Phila Korhenen (Grandmother)

Relatives: Olivia Nieminen (Aunt, Otso’s younger sister), Leevi Nieminen (Uncle, Olivia’s husband), Tapio Nieminen (Cousin, Olivia and Leevi’s son)

FAVORITE

Food: Lohikeitto

Drink: Hot cocoa

Color: Pastel Pink

Song: MIC Drop (Steve Aoki Remix) - BTS

TRIVIA

Kettu means ‘Fox’ in Finnish.

She was a member of K-POP dance club.

Kettu is a BTS fan-girl, never missed a new single album or any of concerts

She hates cooking. Once she burned the kitchen when she made omelette.

König bought the fox keychain to Kettu as a Christmas present, She named it ‘Mr.Oranssi’ means orange and hang him on the waist bag all the time.

[diejager]

Chapter 2

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Cw: canonical violence, blood, death, injuries, Soap throw boom boom, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 994

Series masterlist

previous

The flash grenade Soap threw into the room left a ringing in his ears, lasting while he stormed into the room in duos to shoot down the - momentarily - blinded AQ soldiers hiding within the small, mountain village. Walking in a line, Price - Bravo-06 - led the way through the windowless, mud houses and out on the streets.

They spread into two when Price sent half of the squad to the other side of the village, wanting to infiltrate the place on both ends from the darkness of the night. Laswell had briefed them that the villagers were driven out, fearful as they left everything to the invading AQ cell in the Urzikstan village. It made their duty simpler, not having to watch out for civilians or hostages.

Ghost directed the second squad, left to the one Price led, into a house, kicking down the door with his rifle raised as he quickly shuffled through the entrance to let Soap and Roach follow behind him, along with the five other corporal and sergeants. Swiping left and right, they moved quickly around the space, taking down men - double taped in the torso or once in the head.

He called over whenever they cleared an area, Price doing the same to let them know his progress. Over the sound of gunshots and screams, he realized that he hadn't heard you once since they started. It was radio silence, but he wasn't worried, he'd seen you train with them the first few days of your arrival. Though silence was expected from you, being the assigned sniper in this mission instead of Ghost.

You jumped off the carrier, sniper slung over your shoulder as you saluted, smiling at them. You'd have to trek up the mountainside from what Laswell and Price told you. Ghost watched you walk off, steps strong and steady up the rocky terrain at sundown. His eyes followed your figure until it disappeared behind a wall.

"I'm all set up, Cap," you called after a while, letting them know that they could leave.

Giving Nikolai the signal, they took off. When Ghost gazed through the window, he saw your position from the corner of his sight. You laid stomach first, one leg straightened and the other bent to stop any recoil, elbows supporting your upper body and hands around your sniper. A sleek, black bolt-action sniper rifle that you called your “Baby” before you boarded the aircraft.

They met back before the walled mansion, probably the house of a rich family that decided to live on the farther side of Urzikstan. Ghost walked behind Price's group, rifle cocked and alert, they made their way through the open gate.

Bang!

A body fell from the roof.

Bang!

Another one crashed to their feet, weapon clanging to Gaz's left.

"Winter, how copy?" Price rasped, his eyes - along with the others - straining through the night vision goggles.

"Cover, Cap, there are two more 'round the corner," you finally spoke, voice low and monotone.

If it weren't for their current situation, Ghost would've been shocked, the change in your tone drastic. Your shots were unpredictable, and random at times but they always made their mark. If you weren't talking to them, you were sniping off men, quick and efficient, opening up a passage for them to bust into the house.

"Asset's on the second floor, sir, east wing, " your voice entered the line, scope focused on the man they wanted to capture. "Four guards, armed to the teeth."

They spread out, one on one while they stalked down the hall and up the stairs in a concentrated frenzy, arms ready to shoot down armed guards in the base. Reaching the last door, Price counted down before he pushed in, the guards clamoring to protect their boss.

Bang!

The window cracked, shattering around the entry when the guard standing before the window fell. Your shot made their target more panicked, fumbling around for his gun. Within a few minutes, it was over, the AQ target slumped down after being shot in the thigh.

"Target acquired, " Ghost announced, head tilted to his right. "Meet at exfil, Winter."

"Rog, Lieutenant."

When they reached your location, Ghost watched your stiff figure, keen eyes steeled for any movement outside of yours and the aircraft. The usual soft calmness was replaced by an uncanny state of indifference and coolness - how fitting, Ghost thought, your sudden change and actions were unpredictable, all changing as winter, from mild to freezing in a day, changing winds drastically even after being warned.

Your head bobbed at them, sitting on the nearest seat, which happened to be left of Soap and Roach, not too far from Ghost's little corner in the dark. Once the hangar door closed, Nikolai flew up, back to their safe house until they were able to go back to the British Isles.

"Quiet, aren't ya, Winter?" Soap suddenly pipped up, facing you with a lazy grin. "All cold and dead, 'ts almost like L.T.," his shoulders shook with a loud chuckle that he shared with Gaz.

Ghost grumbled lowly, sending a glare at the Scot and Brit that were jabbing you about your resemblance to him, however, when you blinked, lashes fluttering, light drifted back into your eyes, bright and gleaming as a teasing smile reached your lips.

"Don't be an arse, Soap, L.T still has feelings."

"She's right, Soap, don't be an arse, " Gaz returned your mischievous look, snapping at Soap who sat between you both.

He gasped, whipping his head from you to Gaz, squinting his eyes with a mock of a whine: "Aye, ya gangin' up on mae!"

Ghost closed his eyes, sighing silently as you returned to your previous energy, smiling and chuckling with the rest of TF 141, ignoring the disapproving frown from Price, Roach's attempt to hide his laugh, and the rest of the momentary team.

Next

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