#also potential gaz/OC

[sacredglitch]

It's 'Thinking about OCs silently' time so have this piece that I wrote on a whim after listening to "What Once Was" by Her's on repeat.

TW: Death / Pondering Death (through memories)

Celebrations were in high spirits in the 141 Mess. Classic rock shaking the walls as each sector of the base celebrated another hurdle crossed into locating more insiders of Shepard's, though apparently nothing closer in locating the man himself. Laswell was hopeful that one of them would crack and reveal his wearabouts. Hope was enough for them to take a moment to breathe.

Murphy was asked by countless members if he was up for drinks, even challenged by Moggy to see who could drink either under the table best. He just laughed it off and let them all enjoy themselves.

For him, tonight was a different celebration. His hand traced the 3 year old tattoo.

Three fucking years.

Three years since he watched his commander give his last commands. Since he watched his fellow Lieutenant count from three to one. Since the door opened and they all swept into the room, one foot hitting off a trip wire and the room exploding into dust. First year he wasn't at home to remember them or visit them. First year it was just him.

Keeping their faces and voices alive.

He grasped the Guinness can and took a swig. How his Commander drank this like it was water was beyond him. But it kept him alive. To Malware at least.

Green eyes danced with the shadows in the Mess. He envied it. Being able to celebrate with a team you felt right in. Felt at home in.

Last he felt that was when Captain Donovan was harping at Corporal Fitz that he "Better kick those superstar calfs into high gear, now" as they jumped down from the Helo. Another swig of stout, washing the memory away with the taste.

"It's not a simple 'rest on it and it'll pass', Murphy" Clicker had once said in one of their sessions, "This could take years to finally settle with. A support system is crucial in healing."

Survivors Guilt, amongst PTSD and other labels was all he gained from that fuck up. He's still unsure if he should feel appreciative it was just them, not a limb or his life. Maybe his life would have be-

He huffed.

No, O'Rourke, no self depreciation.

One of the worst habits he taught himself after everything. That and taking the blame. He did not cause it. He couldn't change anything.

He needs to learn that.

Another swig.

Boots crunching on the autumn grass caught his ear but made no moves to acknowledge them, eyes solely focused on the obstacle course ahead. The steps halted just behind him. Ghost wouldn't let himself be heard, Soap would have made some calling to him, and Soup would have probably chucked her shoe at him. Other names floated in and out of his mind before they slammed to a stop; "Penny for your thoughts, Irish?"

Gaz.

A smile came to him, though he didn't let it go past his cheeks. If you thought Price or Wrench could be bad with their 'mothering', Gaz was much worse. Though more of subtle method to his loving madness, it could be just as smothering.

"A support system is crucial for healing."

Damn it.

He shook his head, gesturing to the curb beside him. Observing lazily, he noted the Sergeant was just in his down time clothes; a hoodie and slacks, no hat. Going off the direction he came from, he must have been with the other crew of celebrants; movie watchers. It was Roach's pick this time so fuck knows what kinda film was being shown. Most likely foreign, man had a weird love for them.

They all had a weird love for something, Murphy supposed. His eyes did catch a glint of a beer bottle. Not a completely sober film viewing then.

"As if I've got any thoughts to give." He teased back easily, swirling the can in his hand. "Movie any good?"

The younger shook his head, scrunching his face. "It was something sappy in Spanish. Think Alejandro had mentioned it last time him and Rudy visited. Couldn't make heads or tails on the love triangle so..." Gaz trailed off with a shrug, looking at the night sky. "Mess having any fun?"

Murphy returned the shake, eyes falling to the half empty can. "Nah, wasn't in there... I'm drinking on my own terms." He paused. "Though rumour has it Moggy has replaced me with Conor, fucking Maple syrup bastard."

Gaz let out a low whistle. "He in the dog house then?" Another tease.

"Too right he is!" he laughed then took another drink. "Fucker can fix his own damn PC next time."

The air around them began to ease, feeling more open and lax than it did when he started drinking. Garrick always had that aura to him. Even when he was just starting out in the base, the Sergeant never failed to make him feel at peace. The taste of guilt crawled up his throat. He took a short breath, then chased it away with more stout.

Brown eyes watched him before furrowing. "Thought you were a cider kinda guy?" Murphy forced a grin. "I am."

"You trying to prove to Conor who's the better Irishman?" "No."

A pause, Gaz taking that moment to reflect over Murf's tone. Cold. Closed off.

He swallowed some of his own beer before nudging the brunet gently "Penny is still on offer here."

Murphy chewed the inside of his cheek. Other than Price, Laswell and the medics, he's never spoken about the faith of his old team. He bonded over his tattoo with Conor, who seemed to put the pieces of the puzzle together after hearing his name and shared a few stories here and there but...nothing, nothing, to do with the incident.

Perhaps it's a sign that now is the time to start. He doesn't have to go into detail. He doesn't have to say more than "It's the anniversary of my ARW team passing."

Murphy is in control here.

His hands fidgeted with the can, rolling it and playing with the tab before letting his eyes rest on the course once more.

"I'm drinking in memory of my old team....They're three years gone now." His voice was wobbly and scratchy, as if he hadn't been speaking at all. But he did it. It's out in the air. Out for Gaz to listen and process it.

He had a small debate on downing the rest of the drink, yet he knew well his stomach wouldn't appreciate it. Another sip instead.

"... I'm sorry for your loss." Came the reply. He knows he shouldn't of but he laughed, loud but rough. He's never understood why people apologise for something they were they ever apart of. "Don't be, Garrick. Not like you caused it."

Another drift of silence, then a hand fell on his shoulder. "Being empathetic here, mate." Gaz mused, smile still light on his lips. Murphy met the hand before shrugging lightly.

"I get that, and it's appreciated, but..." he sighed, moving his free hand behind him to lean on it before adding "The phrase never made sense to me. Still doesn't."

His eyes only saw the kind and most certainly 'mother hen-ly' face Gaz had on him. Shithead definitely picked it up from Price. Almost spitting image.

"Guess it is a weird one. But I get the feeling of grief....Be surprised if anyone on this base didn't."

How many people here have to suffer from multiple grievancs at once? He couldn't help but think.

As far as he knew, Soup was the only one with a similar experience. Yet she seemed as if she was on top of the world. Murphy still felt as though he was on the rubble covered ground, the weight of his Commander's lifeless body against his. His fist clenched around the can, indenting it.

"So..." Gaz began, tone one of ease, as if he was trying to deviate a situation, "was someone in the Ranger's a hearty Guinness drinker?"

The Lieutenant nodded. "Commander was, yeah."

That made sense. Gaz hesitated before moving his hand from the brunet's shoulder to around his back. Murphy didn't make any movements to pull back, if anything he moved himself in a little further but couldn't meet Gaz's eyes.

Lifting his own bottle, he looked to the sky again and softly said "To your Commander then. And all your troops."

Guilt almost had him frozen in a vice as he lifted the can in solidarity. "To the Band of Brother's." It was a rocky start to dealing with their loss openly, but a start nonetheless.

[rileyslibrary]

I love your sense of humour and have cracked up at your stories multible times. Maby you can find some inspiration in this:

Price ordering the team to an etiquette training so they know how to behave in case they have to go under cover in a more "fancy" environment (or the upcoming mission may require something like this). I'm thinking about Ghosts "sausage fingers" from the origami bit on a delicate litte cake fork... Or him needing to *converse* with someone.

I think putting these hard soldiers in a situation that's out of their comfort zone is always a fun read!

Thank you for letting us enjoy your fantastic writing! <3

Be gentle, man!

Relationship: TF141 x F!Reader with a potential Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader (platonic?) on the horizon. Also there’s an OC in the story.

Word Count: 1,598 (approx. 7-8 min reading time)

Notes: I began writing this last night as a joke, and couldn’t stop. Thank you SO MUCH for inspiring me to do this, anon. It’s a crackfic btw. (There’s a part 2 now here)

———————————————————————

The training room feels out of place compared to its usual purpose. Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the once-busy gym has been transformed into a classroom for an unlikely lesson—manners, of all things. Table manners, to be precise.

“Talk about Fitness Vs. Finesse,” Soap whispers, and you playfully nudge his side. The comment reaches Gaz’s ears, and he lets out a chuckle. Yet, Price’s death stare reclaims your attention and brings you back to focus.

You all sit around a long, polished mahogany table atop the gym’s boxing ring, admiring the delicate china and crystal glassware set before you. It reminds you of Aunt Claire’s preserved collection, which rarely leaves its cabinet. Lady Theodora, your etiquette instructor, assures you that each piece serves a purpose, and you will put them all to use. Every. Single. One of them.

Lady Theodora, the epitome of timeless confidence, moves gracefully around the table. Her silver hair is slicked back, framing a face that exudes years of wisdom and experience. Her Bordeaux-coloured shawl billows behind her as she glides, catching the gentle breeze her steps create. She pauses behind Price’s chair and reveals the reason behind today’s masterclass: an undercover operation.

“In the world of espionage, where appearances can mean the difference between life and death,” she says in a soft voice, “the art of etiquette becomes a weapon, a shield, and,” she concludes, resting her hand on Price’s shoulder, “your ticket to survival.”

“Bollocks.”

All eyes are drawn to the far end of the table, where a shadowy figure prefers to go unnoticed but isn’t afraid to express doubts. The only visible sign of life is a hand fidgeting with the butterknife.

“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant.” Lady Theodora says, and Ghost leans forward, revealing his unmasked—and visibly annoyed—face.

“We’re soldiers, not knights,” he claims. “Teaching us how to use all these,” he says, motioning to the various utensils before him, “is a waste of time, both yours and mine.”

Lady Theodora regards him gently as if looking at a child throwing a tantrum. She smiles and walks behind him, gripping the back of his chair.

“You seem quite certain of your own competence and doubtful of mine, Mr Riley,” she says, amused.

Ghost tilts his head to the side, partially facing her.

“With all due respect, Lady Theodora,” he replies, “I don’t believe you fully comprehend how such missions operate.”

Lady Theodora lets a light chuckle as she moves closer to Ghost’s face.

“My record of 25 confirmed kills, three of which were accomplished with a butterknife like the one in your hand, might suggest otherwise,” she admits. “Now, would you kindly move your seat forward, Lieutenant? I’ll show you how to act like a proper gentleman.”

Ghost’s Adam’s apple bobbles as he swallows hard. He returns the butterknife to its original position and pushes his chair forward with Lady Theodora’s help.

Gaz clears his throat and looks at Soap.

“Imagine her dinner parties,” he whispers so Price doesn’t hear him, “they must be perfectly executed.”

“Bet she makes a killer soufflé,” Soap whispers back.

You look at them and mutter, “You two are beyond help.” Unfortunately, it’s your own comment that catches Price’s attention this time, and he gives you a stern warning to behave.

“Let’s get started,” Lady Theodora says. “Projecting confidence and grace requires proper posture: sit up straight, shoulders back, and imagine a string pulling you upward from the crown of your head.”

You all adjust your posture, attempting to imitate Lady Theodora. Ghost used to a more relaxed posture, finds it difficult to maintain the required formality. His broad shoulders hunch forward, and he struggles to keep his legs straight.

“Excellent,” Lady Theodora remarks, catching Ghost’s struggle but choosing not to comment further. “Next, we shall delve into the art of dining. Each utensil on the table has a specific purpose, and it is essential to use them correctly.”

She points to the array of utensils laid out before you. Multiple forks, knives, and spoons of various sizes and shapes make the sight overwhelming.

“The outermost utensils are for the earlier courses, while the inner ones are for the later ones.” Lady Theodora says, “It’s like unwrapping a gift, one course at a time.”

You all nod and place the napkin on your lap to begin the process.

Ghost’s ingrained military habits take over when food is served, causing him to devour it quickly. He shovels forkfuls of food into his mouth without looking up and barely pausing to chew.

“Mr Riley,” Lady Theodora addresses Ghost, who shoots his head up to look at her. “I understand the military inclination to eat fast, but we must remember that the food isn’t going anywhere. Take your time, savour each bite, and enjoy your meal, please.”

“Sorry ’bout that.” Ghost mumbles with his mouth full.

Lady Theodora raises an eyebrow. “Mr Riley, it is impolite to speak with your mouth full,” she reminds him. “Please, swallow your food before continuing.”

Ghost swallows and clears his throat. “Apologies, Lady Theodora,” he mutters.

Lady Theodora smiles and nods at Ghost’s response. “Very well, Lieutenant Riley,” she says. “Remember, dining is about more than just the food; it’s also about the company and the experience.”

As the training continues, you witness Soap’s attempts to initiate a proper conversation, only to subconsciously bring up military strategies. Gaz, on the other hand, struggles with small talk and, when asked about his hobbies, blurts out his love of explosions.

“Kerosene is one hell of a—”

“No kerosene talk on the table, Sergeant,” Lady Theodora interrupts. “How about we talk about something more appropriate, like, for example, what did you do today?”

“You’re not going to like it.” He replies.

“Did it involve kerosene?” She asks and receives multiple excited nods from Gaz.

Ghost forgets about his napkin while using the finger bowl and instinctively flicks his hands to dry them. Droplets of water scatter across the table, and Lady Theodora steps forward with a calm smile. She retrieves his napkin and hands it to him. “Remember, Lieutenant,” she whispers, “the napkin is your ally.”

Throughout this ordeal, Price seems to be the only one who already has a natural fluidity in his movements. Like he already knows about etiquette.

You compliment his impeccable manners, but Lady Theodora intervenes before Price can respond.

“Oh, that’s because the Captain already received my services a few years ago,” she reveals, winking.

Price, caught off guard, coughs and sputters, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. After regaining his composure, he clears his throat and grins.

“Yes, well, Lady Theodora’s guidance has been, um, invaluable,” he manages to say and lowers his gaze to his plate. Gaz raises an eyebrow, and Soap gives a sly smile.

With the etiquette training completed, Price gracefully positions his utensils on his plate and folds his napkin. Lady Theodora hands him a file stack, which he distributes to you.

“These files contain detailed background information for your assigned roles,” he explains. “Study them carefully; familiarise yourselves with the personas you will embody, and don’t worry; with Lady Theodora’s help, you’ll have plenty of time to learn how to carry yourselves.”

He watches you all as you take hold of your respective files, scanning the pages and absorbing the details that will shape your performances.

“Gaz, within those pages, you’ll uncover the roadmap to shape your tech persona, along with essential contacts and valuable industry insights,” Price declares.

“A startup entrepreneur,” Gaz mutters and nods, “nice.”

“Soap,” Price continues, “your file contains the lineage and history of an alleged oil tycoon family; you’ll assume the identity of their sole son and heir to the business.”

“Why do I get the oil-moneyed spoiled brat?” Soap protests, “Gaz is the one obsessed with fossil fuel!”

Price looks at Lady Theodora, silently begging her to take the lead.

“Focus on embodying the demeanour of an heir, Sergeant MacTavish,” she comforts Soap. “Acquiring in-depth knowledge of the business is not a top priority now.”

Finally, Price shifts his focus to you and Ghost. His voice softens, and a smile appears on his lips.

“As for the two of you,” he says, “your assignment requires a convincing portrayal of a couple.”

You and Ghost exchange a brief look before returning your focus to the files in your hands.

“Laswell will provide you with a forged marriage certificate and photos of your alleged relationship,” Price continues. “The documents will serve as tangible proof if the need to validate your connection arises.”

“Any chance to let us know who or what we’re after?” Gaz asks, and Price shakes his head.

“Baby steps, Sergeant; we’re waiting for Laswell to give us more intel,” he explains, “but as far as we know, we’re dealing with people who can buy their way out of some very sketchy shit.”

“Language, Captain.” Lady Theodora reminds him.

“Please accept my sincere apologies, Theodora,” he says and turns to Gaz. “I meant sketchy things, Sergeant.”

As they continue discussing the mission, your mind wanders on the latest information. Ghost’s partner? How? You look at the file and then back at Ghost. You see Lady Theodora walking behind Ghost’s chair and leaning close to his ear. She looks at you and whispers to him.

“I told you, Lieutenant,” she says, “I’ll mould you into a proper gentleman.”

Ghost turns to face you as well. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Lady Theodora,” he replies.

But Lady Theodora smiles and touches his shoulder, “Oh, you’ll see, Mr Riley—you’re my gift to unwrap, one course at a time.”

———————————————————————

Part 2 ->

[ohbo-ohno]

I’m feral and need more of your a/b/o thoughts. Like I need to know your thoughts on alpha!141 snatching omega reader to keep for themselves

yknow i was gonna say that i haven't touched abo in forever, but then i remembered the gaz thing i just posted the other day lmao

(btw i wrote alpha 141 here but i think abo poly 141 would have alphas price/ghost and betas soap/gaz. probably. maybe. idfk.)

cw for noncon and kidnapping below the cut

i find poly 141 x reader really difficult to write outside of porn, since there's already so many interesting dynamics in regular poly 141. i have a hard time adding in a FIFTH element, yk? especially when that fifth element has to be a reader insert instead of some sorta OC or smth

anyway, i think the best dark poly 141 x reader idea is basically reader being used as a sex toy for the guys. like, she's there for them to relieve their stress in. but in an abo au i could totally see them using her as an element of softness in their lives. with 4 alphas in one home, you need an omega to soften things up a bit

and there you are. soft and sweet and small (compared to them at least) and just so perfect. you're the unlucky bastard who happens to smell appealing to all of them, and you're whisked away before you really even know it

they'd have to be sneaky, probably. you'd have a positive reaction to their scents too, so maybe johnny or gaz gets you to go on a date with one or both of them and then kidnaps you. maybe price or ghost just grabs you one day. something like that, i think, but there's much higher angst potential is kyle and/or johnny lulls you into a false sense of security first (and you know i love a good betrayal)

they'd push and prod at your instincts to force you into a heat before anything else. lock you in their den (soon to be their nest) and surround you in their scents, make low purrs to convince your instincts that you're safe

and as terrified as you are - and oh boy, are you - there's only so much you can actually fight your instincts. lets say you're either not on heat blockers, or maybe the blockers are weak, but for whatever reason you're very susceptible to all of their little pushes

they've got you knotted and mated by the end of the week

it's odd, coming up from that heat. your neck aches all the way around, to the point that it's painful to even turn your head. despite the unfamiliar room, your brain screams at you that you're safe, that you're in your nest.

it doesn't take long to put together the pieces. it also doesn't take long to become very very upset

thing is, it's too late to do anything now. you can't break a bond, and they're not giving you any opportunities to get away. you're stuck with these alphas who have performed the greatest invasion possible on your body and soul. it's crushing

cue lots of attempted comfort. soap and gaz would be the softest with you, always trying to tempt you into realizing how good it is to be with them. soap is rougher when he fucks you, but they're both equally soft outside of that. they bring you nesting materials, constantly make sure you're covered in their scents, and bicker over who gets to cuddle you on the couch

ghost isn't willing to coddle you. he's sweet (in his own right) but he's not nice. he doesn't try to make you feel better - you're meant to be with them, why should he apologize for making it happen? all they did was skip the courting process, this is always where you were going to end up. he refuses to apologize for that. but he also doesn't want you miserable. he holds you close at night, soaks with you for long hours in the tub, and is always making sure you clear your plate

price is... weird. i'm never sure if i should make him the meanest or a softer kidnapper. because i could absolutely see a version of price whipping your ass raw every time you scream at them and call them names, but i can also see a version of price who just levels you with a disapproving stare and locks you in a small dark space when you get like that

regardless, they all smother you. you help balance out their dynamics a bit more, but they're always fighting each other for your attention. especially with the bond making it so they always know what you're feeling. and your instincts scream to trust them (and you can feel their emotions too, know that they really meant for the best, as sick and twisted as it is).

[boozenboze]

Hello! I'm unsure if requests are open, if not please do forgive me! I've never done this before- Do reject this if you desire! >.< I wanted to know if you can possibly do- Task 141 x Male! Ghostface Reader, where he's almost identical to the original GF but with a twist, very snarky with his funny remarks despite seemingly being cruel and cold. He's an actual sweetheart when he's comfy around them? Mysterious as they have never seen a photo or proper description of him, as it's either n/a or classified- You can base him off the Danny Johnson Ghostface

An idea for this could be that he's a target from Laswell after various high-status politics suddenly disappear and she orders them to detain him and perhaps even acquire him as a potential ally only for the boys to get to the location and see him absolutely wreaking havoc, almost like a saw movie with how gorey and aggressive he can be? Then he just turns around and just makes a nonchalant comment on how cute they are for being so late? He's partially playful and monotonous with his raspy voice which turns out not to be a device but his actual one- Doing small pranks on the boys as they chase him around the establishment, clearly having the time of his life? Then when they manage to corner him, he's just passive- and he somehow manages to slip away with the promise of 'playing' with them again.

Hyped up on Spooky boys and I love your writing style!!! This has also inspired me to make a Ghostface COD Oc- LEMME STOP LOL -GhostyFaceAnon 👻

Whats Your FavoriteScary Movie~?

Tf!141 x Ghostface!Male reader

Females, She/Her and She/They DNI

A good horror story is made from true events.Luckily thats how M/n’s stories went and thats what made them terrifying.All of his stories would make others uncomfortable,unsettled and to top it off it would captivate the eyes of others.Though there was one part of the story M/n enjoyed the most

The climax

“So your telling me that these politics just disappeared with no trace?”Price asked Laswell,peering over her shoulder.

“Yeah, theres only a little footage of each disappearance. I was editing it and I was able to catch something.”Laswell said as she slowed the video down and pausing it when the figure in black showed up.They were now able to see the Ghostface mask the person wore.

“What the hell?”Soap muttered out, trying to comprehend what he was looking at.The male was sneaking up on one of the many politics that had gone missing before striking a pole across the mans neck.The man fell too the ground and that was the last thing they saw before the footage cut out.

“Do you know who could be doing this.”Gaz asked as he eyed the file that Laswell had been holding.

“I’ve tried but.”Laswell placed the file on the table before opening it.“everything on his file is either scratched out or theres just nothing there.”Laswell said as Priced pulled the file towards him.The only information that was given was the mans code name.Ironically it was S.C.R.E.A.M in all caps.

“This guy is the new Ghostface now or what?”Ghost asked as Soap chuckled.

“Well looks like you two are made for one another, both of ya are Ghosts.”Soap joked as Ghost glared at him in response.Gaz looked at Laswell for a moment before speaking up.

“Where are they hiding these people exactly?”Gaz asked as Laswell showed them a picture of a building.It looked old but it was oddly clean despite the moss that was forming on the front of it.

“I had someone get this for me since all the disappearances happened around this area.Its a crowded area but it has a high rate for people going missing.”Laswell said as Price hummed in response.

The building had moss all over it, and the screams of people could be heard from inside.One had passed out from shock and the others were whimpering or trying to get out of the chair that they were tied to.The room was covered in blood, there were weapons all over the walls, it was just a mess.

“Y-you know we can get pass all of this-w-we won’t tell a soul if you let us go!”One of them yelled out, only to be met with cold metal hitting their throat.

“What makes you think I’d believe you?”A disorientated voice spoke out while running a knife across his neck.The man was shaking now as he felt the tip of the knife be pulled away by the perpetrator.The man in the mask sighed while stomping his feet on the ground like a toddler.

“I’m so bored~!Oh!I have an idea lets play a trivia game!”The male said in excitement as some began whimpering in their chairs, shaking uncontrollably.The masked man made his way to the wall and scanned all of the weapons then smiled once his mic came into view.

“I have a question, whats your favorite scary movie?”SCREAM asked as he put the mic in one of their faces.

“T-the Babadook.”The woman muttered as the male who questioned her grunted in disapproval.

“The Babadook, seriously?Honestly what are peoples taste in horror nowadays”SCREAM said as he moved on to another.

“What about you, whats your favorite scary movie?”The question moved to the man tied next to the woman.

“Holloween you bastard.”The man spat out but was met with a whack to the head.

“No profanity jackass, what about you good sir.Whats your favorite scary movie?”He asked once more with a monotone voice, now eying the man who was still passed out.

“Friday the 13.”He kept his answer short, afraid of what would happen if he said more.The male began to chuckle under his mask as he approached the male who was passed out, still tied to his chair.He lifted the man up and dragrd his chair beneath a dim light that was hanging from the ceiling.

“Time for a trivia~!Answer 3 questions, answer one wrong your little friend dies.”SCREAM said threatening the others with enthusiasm.The man was about to explain the rules until the passed out man woke up and began screaming.The e/c eyes behind the mask looked unamused at the mans cries.

“Please don’t do th-.”The woman was cut off.

“Catagorey:Holloween, who was the killer in the Holloween movie.Come on now one of you have to answer!”SCREAM taunted as the other man blurted out.

“Micheal Myers!It was Micheal you sick fucker!”The man yelled as SCREAM gave him a round of applause.

“Good job....question 2 different Category: Friday the 13th.Who was the original killer of Friday the 13th.”

“Jason Voorhees!”The woman cried out as SCREAM sighed in disappointment.

“Darn, I’m afraid your incorrect.”SCREAM said in faux remorse.The womans eyes widened.

“N-no that is correct I’ve watched that movie to many times to know-“

“If you did watch it as much as you claim you’d know that the original killer is Mrs.Voorhees.”He explained.“Jason didn’t arrive until the sequel.”He continued as the woman shook her head in disbelief.

“Ah...I’m sorry but, seems like your buddy has to go!”SCREAM turned off the light that was hanging over the politician, and the sound of something ripping open could be heard as well as well as a scream.The light was turned back on and Scream was no where to be seen, although the only thing there was the politician, stomach ripped open eith his intestines spilling over his lap.SCREAM moved the males chair away from the light before grabbing the woman who was tied up.She began screaming at him, telling him that “he didn’t have to do this”, he didn’t care it was his job anyway.

“Come on now, the games have to continue!”The disorientated voice said as a smile crept upon his features.

The taskforce made it to the building, weapons loaded and all.The fact that this was just one guy they were dealing with, and they needed all of them together to detain him.

“Just how dangerous is this guy?”Gaz asked himself aloud as Ghost glanced at him.He himself was wondering what they were dealing with.This man kidnapped 4 politicians on his own without being caught, and weeks after their disappearances they’ve just now have gotten a lead on where they were.They began to walk inside but were immediately stopped by the piercing screams that echoed throughout the building.

“Ah shit, I think we may be to late.”Soap said as they approached the room that the scream came from.Price eyed them all as they all nodded in approval, ready to see what was going on behind the door.Price kicked the door down and held his gun up, but almost dropped it once he saw the gorey situation.The others came into the room and Gaz had to cover his noise, the metallic scent of blood and chemicals was prominent and would’ve given anyone a headache.All of the politics were dead, well, besides two.

SCREAM was sawing off the politicans legs off as the other one screamed at him through a gag.He was choking on his own blood due to being stabbed in the stomach multiple times, and was suffocating behind the gag.

SCREAM whipped his head around due too the click of a gun.

“Oh well you all came late how cute~.SCREAM said teasingly as he swiftly pulled out a gun and shot the man whose leg was being chopped off in the head. “Welp gotta go handsomes~!”He continued as he made his way past them all.

The politicians body slumped, already alerting them that he was dead.The team was stunned so the s/c skinned male made a run for it, and Ghost was the first one to snap out of the state of shock.

“He’s running down stairs!”Ghost yelled out as he ran after him.The male being chased slipped while running down the stairs and groaned when he hit the floor.

“Agh-Fucking SHIT!”The male yelled in pain as his ankle throbbed.He suspected he may have twisted his ankle but got up when the other male wearing a Ghost mask footsteps got louder.He stood up and limped away but his adrenaline was high so he started to run again but was immediately stopped by Price who turned the corner.Knowing that he couldn’t turn around he threw one of his knives at Price who dodges it, but it gave him a chance to run pass him,in which he did.He kept running but what do you know, Soap tackled him and they rolled across the concrete floor.M/n got up just as quick as Soap did.The Scot pointed a gun at the mask wearing male who crossed his arms.The others showed up shortly after finding their teammate.

“Hehe...hello?”The man said awkwardly as he backed away from the men who now had him cornered.His eyes scanned the area for an escape which none was there, besides the oh so conveniently placed window that had been opened for some odd reason.Ghost eyed the man up and down, taking note of the dark wear the male was wearing.His outfit had a lot of chains, some of them in which he tied the politicians with.

“Drop your weapons and come with us, don’t make things harder than what it is.”Price said calmly as SCREAM shifted in place.He had been inching closer the the open window and was stopped by Gaz who had noticed the males advances.

“Where are you trying to go hm?”The brown skinned male asked as SCREAM eyed him through his mask.Now that Gaz was upclose, he could see the soft e/c eyes that hidden behind the mask.His heart would’ve melted if he hadn’t known this was the guy that killed those politics.Important politics at that.

“Well I will go where I want if you’d get your pretty ass out my face.”SCREAM said jokingly as Gaz glared at him, blush beginning yo cover his cheeks at the word ‘pretty’.

“How about y’all let me go, and we go our separate ways eh?I mean we don’t want anyone getting hurt do we?”SCREAM asked threateningly as Ghost grunted.

“Can’t we just take him already.”Ghost asked gruffly as Soap looked up at him.

“If he co-operates this could be over with.”Soap said while looking back at the man in black.SCREAM eyed Gaz for a moment before pulling the males hat down to where he couldn’t see.

He then ran towards Price who was ready to pin him down but was startled when the male rolled between his separted legs and grabbing his hat.Once the hat was in his grasp he wrapped it around the man neck before running off.Soap and Ghost started running after him once more and SCREAM made the dumb decision to throw a bar of soap at Soap.The male groaned at the sudden pain on his forehead and stopped to rub his forehead that was now beginning to bruise.

Ghost was hot on SCREAMS tail as they were almost at the exit of the building.Ghost reached out to grab the males mask but stopped in his tracks when the male pulled a bookshelf down, blocking his way.

“Hey!”A monotone voice called out to the lieutenant who glared at him through his mask.He began to step over the bookshelf until the voice was heard again.

“Your shoes untied.”SCREAM said and Ghost looked down to see that his shoe was untied,but was quickly met with a kick to the balls.Out of pure reaction he retracted his movements to bend down and almost curl up.

“Sorry buddy.....I HOPE TO PLAY WITH YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS AGAIN SOON!”SCREAM yelled out as he left the building where the team was now left in bewilderment.The guy that had tortured and killed those politics thought this whole thing was some sort of game.Well luckily for him

THEY WERE GOING TO BE PLAYING ANOTHER TYPE OF GAME NEXT TIME😏

Pt.2

[moody-alcoholic]

Formal dinner

This is just the first draft of a weird idea that popped in my head...

I started re-watching gray's anatomy and I think that's mostly to blame... Especially this scene. I also needed an excuse to practice writing from Simons POV so here you go.

Summary: Simon x OC 2k words. Formal military dinner gone wrong..? CW: alcohol, serious asthma attack, mentions of medication, medical emergency, medical inaccuracies. First draft, honestly I just love writing medical stuff.

Masterlist

Enjoy <3

“Well well, look at you all smart in officer formals.” I heard Rosaly’s voice behind me. I turn to see her wearing a long blue dress that seemed to be pulling in all the right places.

“Very nice.” I say she spins around I see how low cut the back is as she adjusts the clasp on her clutch. Her hair was done up too curled and I couldn’t ignore the light layer of makeup on her face making her lips look shiny, hiding the heavy bags under her eyes. I find myself smiling, I want to reach out and touch her. She looks up at me taking a step closer quickly looking around then leaning into me.

“I do have a thing for men in formals.” She purrs in my ear. I let out a breath as she giggles moving back. I can see the cheeky grin on her face. It’s almost too much, I want to pull her back up to my room and skip the festivities, I didn’t want to be here and I know she didn’t either. Price had to practically order her to come. ‘Set a good example as we should 141 is an important unit, there will be a lot of important people there.’ People started passing us through the main doors leading in the hall where the event was taking place, the hotel was grand, just like the last dinner event Price dragged me too. This is where he networks gets to gush about 141 to everyone sometimes picks up a medal at the end, what he’s really for though are the jobs he can get for us.

“Rosie?” I hear someone say, she turns around to see someone coming towards her.

“Mike, hey.” She says, I remember him he was the trauma surgeon at Gibraltar. He introduces the woman looped on his arm as his girlfriend and makes small talk with her. I look around for Price and Gaz they should be here by now I look down at my watch it’s almost 7. I look back up seeing Mike say his goodbyes going through into the room, Rosaly follows after them and for a second I look confused until she comes back out with two champagne flutes.

“You’re going to need this.” She says handing me one and sipping the other. I already felt exposed, such a formal event meant I couldn’t get away with my normal get up, when Price broached the subject about the mask he knew I wasn’t going to like it. ‘It’s all friendlies, they won’t even remember by the end of the night everyone will be pissed anyway.’ I didn’t want to take the chance, the whole point is anonymity, besides being in a room with potentially 100’s of people, no thank you I would much rather be Ghost not Simon, we settled on a black face mask covering my nose and mouth.

“Williams you clean up nicely.” I hear Price coming down the corridor with Gaz at his side.

“Looking sexy Gaz.” Rosaly says finishing her drink, he laughs.

“Could say the same about you too.” Gaz walks up to us hugging Rosaly. Price adjusts his beret. I subconsciously touch mine, it’s been a while since I have had to wear it, I wouldn't be surprised if it was lopsided already, I nod at him his is fine, he smiles nodding back at me. Only officers are required to wear formals since they’re the ones getting all the awards, everyone else gets to dress fancy, I cant help but wonder if Rosaly chose a blue dress on purpose or not. I hand my glass to her as she takes it out my hands.

“You’re drinking all ready?” Gaz laughs taking the full glass out her hands.

“I can’t help it I’m just so excited to listen to 2 hours of speeches form the same 3 people.” I smile at her sarcasm. Price shakes his head and leads us in the room. The table plan has already been set out and we find our way to our table and sit down. Rosaly waves a server over ordering drinks, as the speakers make their way to the stage.

The first speaker goes through the usual spiel of welcoming everyone and guests then going through the running order for the night. I look round the room as the waiter comes back with a try of drinks, there are a lot of people every table is full, sometimes I catch eyes wondering on us then quickly looking away. Everyone starts clapping and I join in watching a video start to play on the projector. With the lights off I sip my drink, letting it burn my throat and warm my belly. I look over at Price and Gaz watching the video, Rosaly is a little in front of me to my right she’s tapping her fingers on the table. I want to reach out and grab her hand, not here though. I wonder if Price is up for any awards I forgot to ask him. The rest of the speeches drone on, a few people get awards for bravery and what not. Some people get promotions, nothing higher then captain though, they would be done in a separate special ceremony. I recognise some of the people from years past, some I think I recognise but I’m not sure. Price is always introducing me to so many people I forget who I’ve met and who I haven’t. When the last speeches are done there is an interval break. Rosaly excuses herself to the bathroom and I turn to Gaz as he taps me on the shoulder.

“Is Price up for any awards?” Gaz asks me quietly.

“I don’t know I forgot to ask.” I admit finishing my drink. Price stands up to greet someone turning to introduce us.

“Where is Williams?” He asks as we stand up to shake his hand.

“Bathroom.” I say.

“Your new medic right?” The man asks Price who nods.

“I heard she’s a handful.” He chuckles we all join in, but I give Price a look. ‘What the hell does that mean?’ He shakes Price’s hand and walks away again, after a few more minutes and a few more people coming to say hi to Gaz and Price, Rosaly comes back with a tray of drinks. I shake my head at her taking mine off the tray.

“You should slow down Williams,” Price says.

“It’s an open bar, besides what are supposed to do other then get royally shit faced, there is a reason you marked tomorrow as recovery on the calendar.” Price shakes his head smiling but takes the drink. Rosaly places the empty glasses on the tray and a waiter comes and takes it. She turns to my sipping her drink.

“Did I miss anything?” She asks.

“Meeting Price’s friends.” Gaz said, she smiled her eyes finding their way to me. I held her gaze, she did look so pretty in that strapped dress they way it brings out the colour in her eyes, her cheeks are rosy, she looks flushed, relaxed enjoying herself. She plays with her necklace, I don’t think I even recognised it until now. It’s beautiful though, silver and diamonds but simple.

“Excuse me!” I hear the squeaking of the mic and look back at the stage. I see a man nervously rubbing his hands. “I know this is a bit of a strange request but are there any doctors here?” I look down at Rosaly who has shrunk down in her chair sipping on her drink. There is murmuring round the hall. Rosaly is almost hiding under the table now her eyes flicking over to Gaz and Price.

“We’ve got a medic over here!” Price calls. I see her close her eyes sighing and straighten up.

“Price I’m drunk.” She protests.

“Everyone is drunk Williams.” Before I know it there is a group of people making their way towards us. We all get up as the crowd parts showing a woman gripping her chest, she is clearly struggling to breath her face bright red. The scene makes Rosaly instantly change, she’s not drunk anymore, she puts the glass down on the table leading the woman to a chair.

“She has asthma we’ve tried an inhaler it’s not working.” Someone says. Handing the blue inhaler to Rosaly who shakes it.

“Have you called an ambulance?” She asks, the woman immediately starts to panic frantically shaking her head.

“She keeps refusing.” The same person says. “I didn’t want to make her panic.” Rosaly turns to us she throws me her clutch bag.

“Price call an ambulance, LT my trauma bag is in my room, go now!” She snaps. I don’t wait pushing through the crowd, I break into a sprint when I get out the main hall, her room is on the second floor I fumble through her bag looking for the keycard. I press it into the door rushing in. I see her bags at the foot of her bed grabbing the cammo backpack with the cross on the back. Why does she even have this with her? I don’t have time to question it as I run back out the room flying down the stairs. When I make it back to the main hall the crowd has gotten bigger. I push my way through I see Mike here now stroking the woman's back she looks worse Rosaly is trying to tell her to breath as I drop the bag at her feet. She lets go of the woman's arm throwing the bag open taking out a syringe of something securing a needle on it.

“Ambulance ETA?” She asks.

“15.” Price calls back. I watch as she rubs the woman's side with something.

“Sharp scratch.” She says injecting it in. “8:12.” She says starting the timer on her watch.

“Keep taking those deep breaths.” Mike says rubbing her back. I watch as Rosaly carefully recaps the needle, then turning her attention back to the woman. She attaches something to her finger, after a few seconds it starts beeping rapidly. The woman seems to be calming down Rosaly rubs her legs looking at her face. She takes a big breath in and I see her relax dropping her hand from her chest, she looks like she’s going to cry. Rosaly stands up stopping her timer.

“Thank you,” The woman says between breaths. Rosaly rubs her arm bending over her to see her.

“You’re okay don’t try and talk, keep taking those deep breaths.” She nods.

“I feel weird.” She says grabbing her chest again.

“You will for a bit it’s the adrenaline.” Rosaly explains, I hear movement behind me and see the crowd separate to the the paramedics through. Rosaly explains the situation, and convinces the woman to go with them at least to get some oxygen through her lungs. Mike goes to stand next to Rosaly as the woman is led away. The crowd starts to disperse.

“I can’t believe you wanted to trach her,” she laughs playfully nudging him.

“What would you have done if the adrenaline didn't work?” He asks.

“I would have pushed another adrenaline,” She explains.

“And then?” He asked crossing his arms.

“Then intubation.” She mirrors his body language.

"With 2 adrenaline's in her system?”

“Oh I’m sorry in which universe is an awake tracheostomy better then intubation?” She tilts her head waiting for a response.

“Won’t make a difference if she’s not breathing.” He says back. I can tell this is riling them both up, the mix of adrenaline and alcohol is not helping, look over at Price.

“This is the problem with you Mike all you want to do is cut, you’re a surgeon first.” She bends down picking her bag up.

“Okay calm down you two,” Price intervenes before Mike can reply. “She’s alive and she’s okay, lets enjoy the rest of the night.” Rosaly sighs and heads back to the table throwing her bag underneath the table picking up her drink. I see her hand shake as she sips it. She’ll never admit it but she loves this, the high of an unexpected medical emergency. That’s why she has the bag with her, for moments like this. She turns to look at me, I see the shine in her eyes, the fire in her belly, she smiles at me. I smile back I know she can tell her hand reaches out and squeezes mine. God I can’t wait to rip that dress off her later.

I cannot wait to start med school

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Killshot (Series Masterlist)

“… if I get to know her, then I might save her.” ~ c.

Series Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Pairing: Simon Riley x fem!reader

A/N: So, I was never into CoD. I was born and raised a gamer, but CoD had never seen the light of day in our household - until my uncle started gushing over the MW remake last year (at least I gathered it's a remake). I didn't pay much attention to the gushing and one day, randomly, Simon Riley started living in my head rent-free and hadn't left since. It's interesting to imagine what type of person Simon would be in day-to-day life and I like that the fandom is so diverse, doesn't matter which member of 141. Hope you'll have fun reading and hope you'll find my version of Simon at least a bit likeable.

Music inspo: Meet Me At Our Spot by the Anxiety, Killshot by Magdalena Bay heavily inspired by Mura Masa's self-titled album, namely by tracks Lovesick and What If I Go?

Trigger warnings: Dealing with anxiety, low self-esteem, smoking, alcohol usage, domestic violence (gets graphic in some parts), usage of violence, blood, Simon being an anxious sunshine, both of them being a broken mess, occasional depictions of readers wardrobe (girly wears glasses sometimes), MacTavish paired with an OC created for this fic while also being a menace, Price guest appearance (stealing everyone’s thunder), Gaz hangs out with our girly.

☀️ indicates fluff; 🌊 indicates smut; 🌪️indicates angst, potentially trigerring content

Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Read here: 

1. The Genius Florist ☀️ (Word count: around 6.5K) 2. The Cactus ☀️🌪️(Word count: around 6.1K) 3. Her Song☀️🌪️ (Word count: around 6.5K) 4. Their Song ☀️🌪️ (Word count: 9.5K) 5. His Past (TBA, in progress) 6. Their Past (TBA, in progress) 7. (TBA, in progress) 8. (TBA, in progress)

[grizzersmamma]

Downtime | 141 Monster AU | Kat

Summary: After a grueling mission, the men of the 141 (and their newest member to join their band of merry monsters) are finally able to indulge in some downtime. Of course, Soap and Kat can’t just play nice for once. 

Notes: Introduction of one of my OC characters into the 141 Monster AU made by the lovely @cyber-nya​ ! I’ve been obsessed with it for so long now and I just have to play around with it. Kat’s monster form is based on one of my tattoos (can include the design for those interested). Possible rivals to lovers??? IDK, do they have potential??? Never written for CoD, still getting a feel for the characters, plz be gentle ;w;

Pairing: (Platonic) OC x 141, potentially leading to future Soap x OC??

Warnings: Fluff.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Next: Fear Responses Pt. 1

Soap couldn’t have been more relieved to get the news that their squad will be given several days to rest and recuperate after their most recent mission. It was by no means a difficult or dangerous one, but dear lord did it seem to drag on forever. Weeks of dragging their sorry asses through thick mud and jungle in pursuit of their target, trying to find where the bastard was hiding the people he’d taken hostage. Intel was practically non-existent throughout, so there was an unbelievable amount of footwork required, even with the help of a handful of scouts who had accompanied them.  

So to know for certain that they’ll have the next few days to rest their aching bodies is enough to have their whole group breathing a collective sigh of relief. There’s still plenty of paperwork to do and exercise routines to follow, but it also provides plenty of opportunity for napping and engaging in hobbies.  

Gathered in their small bunker on base, the group are all doing their best to make the most of their precious downtime. Gaz is sat at the table, leaning back into his chair while he taps away at his phone, scrolling through some sort of social media site. Originally, he’d tried to get away with putting his feet up on the table, only to be met with Price’s patented Look of Disapproval. Suffice to say, his feet were hastily removed with a quite “sorry, sir,” and a sheepish grin.  

The captain just shakes his head before returning to the report he is in the middle of reviewing at the other end of the table.  

Across from them, on the rather run down (but still surprisingly comfortable) sofa, Ghost is silently reading. From a glance, it looks to be a mystery novel of some kind, and the spectre seems to be entirely drawn in by the plot. So, of course, Soap just has to disturb the peaceful moment.  

With his hair still slightly damp from the shower – the third one of the day, because somehow there is still mud in places mud should never be – Soap plops himself down on the couch on the opposite end from the Lieutenant. He ensures to stretch himself out as far as possible, taking up the entire space and resting his legs directly across Ghost’s lap.  

He receives a fierce glare or his efforts, having broken the man’s concentration, but Soap simply offers up one of his winning smiles in return. Ghost rolls his eyes so hard that he briefly worries they may roll right out of their sockets, but eventually concedes defeat with an irritated sigh, returning to his novel.  

Satisfied and very comfortable with his current position, Soap begins to search the room with his eyes, attempting to seek out the newest member of their curious group. It doesn’t take him long – he'd somehow managed to overlook her presence when entering the room – and he finds her sat quietly on the rather shabby rug.  

A demon cat.  

Soap had laughed when they’d been introduced, assuming this was some sort of joke Price was pulling. Only, it wasn’t. He was being dead serious about there being a freaky, demonic cat being added to their squad.  

She looked normal enough when using a human form, nothing to tell her apart from any other regular woman, but her scent betrayed her. The rest of the group didn’t seem to take notice of it, but his nose had immediately flared when he caught the distinct smell of cat. He saw hers do the same, eyes widening slightly and her body growing tense.  

A hellhound and a demon cat. Whatever higher up decided to put them together was either having a laugh or was a complete idiot.  

‘Kat’ was her callsign. How original.  

For weeks, there had been a tense standoff between the two of them, and it had only grown worse when they began to run actual missions together with the team. She was an infiltration expert and, admittedly, was brilliant at what she did. After all, you’d have to be paranoid to think that the stray cat wandering past your compound was actually a British spy.  

But whenever her form changed and Soap found himself looking at a tiny, defenceless cat, he couldn’t help the way his heart thundered with excitement. Blood, hot like magma filled his body and his instincts chanted with excitement, “run, chase, hunt, kill!” It was only natural, but unfortunately, put a great deal of distance between the two of them.  

It had taken months more before she had finally been comfortable enough with allowing the team the chance to see what she truly looked like. Not a human, not a regular looking cat, but her natural, demonic appearance.  

It was completely normal for her to have reservations about showing herself to them. Only recently they were complete strangers, and while battle forms powerful bonds between squad members, it’s still a huge display of trust for any non-human to let others see their real form. It was clearly nerve-wracking for her but she still followed through in the end, shifting into a new body and sitting patiently before them.  

She was... well, to use Ghost’s exact wording, “the ugliest fucking cat I’ve ever seen.” There was not a single patch of fur to be found, only pale pink skin covered with wrinkles. But the part that really drew Soap’s attention were the eyes, completely blacked out, entirely lacking any visible irises or pupils. They were just black pits, staring back at them like the abyss itself.  

Her response to Ghost’s rather blunt statement is an open-mouthed hiss, showing off her surprisingly sharp fangs and the forked, serpent tongue hiding behind them. Obsidian eyes narrowed, she stalks toward him, rumbling out a low growl. Fortunately, before anything could happen, however, Gaz was crouching down and informing Kat of just what a pretty sphynx she was, gently stroking the patch of skin between her ears.  

When the man stands up again, Kat proceeds to wind around his ankles, purring loudly and rubbing her cheek against his legs to share her scent with him. For some reason it causes Soap to momentarily bristle, the hound inside him growling possessively at the sight of someone else marking his squad mate with their scent.  

Kat’s revenge on Ghost comes later, when she shifts into a large, white cat and proceeds to go to town rolling all over his black clothes. To this day, Ghost still finds the occasional white strand stuck to his shirts. He now appreciates that their team mate prefers a hairless form.  

And now, she’s sat just away from Ghost, head shifting slightly every now and then as she watches the little tendrils of darkness that sway around the man’s body like branches in a soft breeze. She stands, eyes widening slightly as she narrows in on one little tendril in particular. It’s languidly moving across the floor, back and forth as Ghost focuses on his book, seemingly oblivious to the danger he’s in.  

The demon crouches, creeping a few steps closer – and Soap can’t help the grin that threatens to break out when she proceeds to do that cute little butt wiggle all cats do when lining up a target – before pouncing. She grabs a hold of the tendril, attempting to pin it down as it writhes and flails, yet surprisingly, Ghost doesn’t even twitch.  

Apparently, he’d been paying attention after all.  

Kat rears back, changing tactics. She begins whacking at the tendril with her paws like it’s a dangerous snake, hissing as she attempts to subdue the beast. Her claws must still be retracted, because she’s not actually doing any damage and Ghost doesn’t seem to be concerned. When the tendril suddenly shifts, the cat near enough shoots into the air, startled by the abrupt movement.  

Before Soap can laugh at the reaction, Kat pins him with a glare, lips curling rather grumpily. She abandons the assault on the inky appendage and instead presses her side up against the lieutenant’s leg, looking up at him with a questioning mewing sound. The man in question looks down at Kat from under his book, staring at her for a long moment, before sighing heavily, as though the very life is being drained from his bones (not that he has any life to drain in the first place, being a ghost and all).  

Ghost shoves Soap’s legs off of his lap, earning a deeply insulted gasp. It’s followed by an even more dramatic one when Kat leaps up off of the floor and onto Simon’s lap, claiming the area vacated by Soap’s legs. She turns around twice in place, before settling down, curled up in a little ball.  

“Thought ye didn’t like cats, L.T.? Not goin’ soft are ye-”

“Shut up, Soap,” Ghost grunts back, effectively cutting him off with his gruff tone. He returns his eyes to his book, his free hand automatically reaching out to rest on the top of Kat’s head. She’s tiny in comparison to the hand of death incarnate, but she doesn’t seem to be bothered, quite the opposite it seems, for she lets out a soft purr, leaning up to scent the gloved hand above her.  

“Oh, ah see how it is. When it’s me layin’ in ye lap then it’s all “fuck off, Soap,” but when she does it-”  

“She don’t smell like a bloody wet dog.”

Soap puffs up a little at that. “Well, tha’s just rude,” he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest, “least I don’t look like a wee goblin.” He attempts to put his legs back on Ghost’s lap again, this time on either side of Kat, but she’s vicious in her defence of her new resting place.  

Every time a foot gets within range, Kat is swatting at it with a paw, ears pinned back as she spits and hisses. Their battle rages for several minutes, only drawing to an end when Ghost grows tired of being in the middle of the cat versus dog fight and swats away Soap’s invading legs.  

“Leave the cat alone, sergeant.” Ghost doesn’t bother looking up from his reading, his other hand returning to petting the feline pleasantly curled up in his lap. He scratches the underside of Kat’s chin and the demon’s eyes slip closed in bliss, purring growing steadily louder. When her eyes open again, she fixes Soap with the smuggest little grin he’s ever seen.

“Cats,” Soap huffs.  

Kat just hisses back at him, clearly returning the sentiment.  

[priceseyes]

meet my oc!

universe: cod!mw trilogy. name: athena ‘birdie’ kallis.  age: 25. birthday: november 1st, 1998. born: auckland, new zealand. partner: capt. john price. 

note: Athena and Price have an age gap of 12 years with Athena being 25 and Price canonically being 37.

-

Athena Kallis was born near a settlement within Auckland, New Zealand. That settlement was Piha. Growing up, she'd love exploring the beachside, going out for a swim and creating her most memorable memories there as a way of distracting herself from the mournful loss of her parents.

Her parents’ unfortunate demise happened when she was quite young, 9 to be exact. Once hitting age 9, she’d find herself moving in with her Uncle Ari in the inlands of San Marcos, Texas where some conflicts would arise considering who she was and where she was from. 

Her Uncle Ari knew how tough the death of her parents would be on her, he understood thus wanting to help and guide her through the grief…with special training, of course! At the age of 12, Uncle Ari had taught her numerous moves and how to use a gun plus other various weapons. As time went on, Ari could see the potential her niece had of becoming a fearsome woman, she was like a bird. The way her arms strode like wings when using them for sneak attacks, how her legs spread like claws in order to fight back against an enemy and her mouth like a beak in order to spit out a venomous bite she’d use to defend herself. So! Once Athena hit the ripe age of 23, Ari finally decided to call up an old buddy of his: Captain John Price. 

John Price is a long-time friend of Ari’s and long-time member of the British Army, earning the rank of Captain. He’s also a part of the Special Air Service of SAS, also forming Task Force 141. 

When getting the call from Ari about the potential of Athena joining the task force, Price asked if Ari would be up to bringing his niece in and showing Price what she’s got. When agreeing, Athena was brought in and she didn’t disappoint. Ari wasn’t kidding when he said Athena was like a vicious bird of sorts, Price liked that. Soon after, Price then took Athena under his wing, the young woman having to leave behind her uncle for a while. Price would continue what Ari had started and train Athena even more, having her become something even greater than before. 

The two had soon become quite close during their time together, a connection blooming between them. Athena, herself, realized that she had begun catching feelings for who she’d call her mentor yet, she didn’t act on them to later on. Price, himself had felt the same, thinking it was wrong that he’d be catching feelings for a young woman such as Athena. However, the two would eventually confess their feelings to one another and continue sharing that special bond they had since the moment they met. 

Once Athena hit the age of 25, Price had asked her to join Task Force 141. She, of course, said yes and since then, She and Price had become each other’s ride or die while sharing an incredible bond with others on their team.

-

Fun Facts: 

She is Māori

A tattoo on her left arm symbolizing her culture and where she came from. 

Favorite animal is a wrybill. 

Is Demisexual.

Has a scar underneath her eye she gained from the attack of an enemy. 

Is close friends with Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick. 

[iblameashley]

Drinks with the 141

Civilian | Male | Gay PART 3

PART 1 PART 2

3,298 words Content: alcohol, anger, violence, mention of panic attack, implied PTSD, talk of male genitals

Ghost | OC | Gaz | Price | Roach | Soap After a relatively civil introduction to Ghost, Logan learns that there is more to the man than he knew, and it might affect a relationship, platonic or romantic.

Note: Since I'm going full baby-girl / princess / sweet and kind König in my other stories, I wanted to give more meat to this story. The plan is to eventually have Simon open up and start dating Logan. But first, DRAMA!

Gaz had a special talent for picking the right time to contact Logan. If he didn't know better, Logan would have assumed his apartment was bugged. He was sitting in the living room mindlessly watching TV when his phone buzzed from his end table.

Logan looked at the screen as it lit up briefly and gleamed Gaz' name. He pondered answering it for a moment, and decided 'why the hell not' as he picked up the phone and reviewed the message.

To his surprise, it was an invitation to hang out. “Hmm.” He croaked, reviewing the request. Another text came in as he was still mulling it over. It was a list of attendee's.

Logan had heard of Roach. Not much, but apparently when he wasn't on-mission he could be quite the instigator and prankster on base. Price generally had to keep him and Soap as separated as possible for everyone's sake. Logan also took note of Simon's potential absence. Made sense, Simon hardly seemed the type to go out with the boys.

The pub they were hitting up was about half-way between the base and Logan's flat. It was also a well-known spot for drunken brawls. Perfect place for a bunch of military men to blow off steam.

“This cant possibly end badly.” Logan joked.

Logan spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to find something to wear, ultimately deciding that it was a pub, and he was meeting soldiers getting off duty. A simple pair of Jeans and a nice shirt would do. And of course his favourite hoodie.

Finding the group was rather easy. Once Logan had made his way inside, he heard Gaz laughing before he saw him. Following the sound of the boisterous laugh, his eyes locked on the group sitting around a table near the back. As expected, Simon was absent.

Logan weaved his way through the crowd and timidly approached the table. Truth be told, despite being very gay, Logan had always been uncomfortable around men. There was a slight knot forming in his stomach, but he had little opportunity to focus on it. Gaz saw him and greeted him more enthusiastically than expected.

“Mate! Y'made it!” He shouted.

And there was the knot again.

“Come sit down, sit down.” He ushered with his hands. Clearly he had already had a few drinks in him.

Logan took a seat at the table and gave a nod to the men starting him down. Gaz didn't let the silence linger long. “Logan!” He exclaimed, “This is Cap'n Price” He said pointing to the older, bearded man, “Roach” he continued. Roach gave an approving nod. “And this is Soap.” Soap flashed a devilish smile.

“You, I know.” Logan said, rather bluntly. “Well... know about. Mr. 'cleaning house,' yeah?” Logan on registered how sarcastic that sounded after the words had left his lips.

Soap, thinking nothing of it, nodded and grinned. “Ah, dinnae know I was famous.” He joked, His accent thick in the air. “En' wha stories has me pal Gaz here been tellan?”

Price spoke up before Logan could reply, “I assume certain details were omitted,” he said in a gruff voice. “You know, security, the national and all that.” He gave his hand a wave in the air.

Gaz, feigning offence simply replied, “Cap'n, you hurt me.”

Price simply gave Gaz the side eye.

“Well,” Logan interjected, “He told me about the time you 'modified' Captain Price's coffee with hot sauce. Or what about the time you attached a small explosive to Gaz's coffee mug and scared this shit out of everyone?” Logan paused a moment, and then added, “But who could forget the time you decided to glitter-bombed Simon.. err, Ghost.”

“Aye,” Soap chuckled, "He was absolutely fumin', I tell ye. Pissed doesn't even begin to describe it."

Roach sat to Soaps side, cracking up at the memory.

“An what ye laughin about, Roach?” Soap prodded. “Was your suggestion if I recall correctly.”

“Yeah, but you did it, like an idiot.” Roach shook his head and took a long drink of his beer.

Soap, returning his attention to Logan, continued his story. "We had just got back from a mission and he'd been a right arse all the way back, so I thought I'd have a wee bit o' fun, aye? Rigged a glitter-bomb inside his gear bag when he was bein' debriefed. Well, he gets back to his quarters, and BOOM!" Soap jumped up and made an explosive gesture with his hands before sitting back down. "It was like a bloody disco explosion. I've never seen a man so covered in glitter, I tell ye. He looked like a walking disco ball, shining and sparkling with every move he made." Soap had tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he recounted the incident.

“It took me four hours to talk Ghost down from killing you.” Price said, rubbing his eyes. “And even then I wasn't convinced he was going to back down.”

"Well, he did punch me so hard in me guts I threw up. The impact was like a thunderbolt to me stomach, I tell ye. And then, to add insult to injury, he made me clean his entire room with nothing but a rag. I'm pretty sure it was one of me own shirts, now that I'm thinking about it. Can ye believe it?"

“Well, I'm not happy you're sharing any base stories,” Price admitted, “but these are better than I could have hoped for.”

Roach eyed up the pitcher of beer placed at the centre of the table. It was near empty. “Should we order another?” He asked. “Logan, you drinkin?”

“Oh, yeah.” Logan said, “I'll go grab another pitcher and a pint for myself.”

“Nah, Mate its fine. I can grab it.” Roach said, starting to get up.

“Its fine.” Logan reassured. He got up, grabbed the pitcher and headed towards the bar.

As he walked away, he could feel the intense stared pointed his way. The men were sizing him up. Some more.

“He seems nice.” Price said earnestly.

“How the fuck does he tolerate Ghost?” Soap added.

“You mean, Simon?” Roach said with a cock of his head.

“Aye, caught that. Ghost would shake the daylights out of us if we called him that. 'Cept you, Cap.” Soap nodded.

“I think having someone outside the base, outside the military is good for him.” Price spun his glass by the base as he reflected on it. “Needs away from you idiots.”

“Harsh, Cap'n” Soap pouted.

Logan returned to the table with a new pitcher of beer, a pint of his own and juggling an empty glass. He was happy to see Simon had indeed decided to join them. He plunked himself down in an empty chair.

He set the pitcher in the centre and handed the empty glass to Simon. “Hey Ghost...” He caught himself. “Sorry. Ghost! I didn't think you were going to come.”

Ghost grabbed the glass and poured himself a drink. “I figured Id show up and see what this was all about. Not planning to stay long, though.” He said nonchalantly.

Ghost seemed harsher tonight, somehow. Logan took it a little personally, thinking Ghost must be mad at his presence. “Oh, uh, sure. I get it.”

“Yeah, we were just sharing some funny stories!” Soap blurted out. His brain finally caught up with his mouth and he remembered the last story was about the glitter-bomb. Not wanting to risk another punch to the gut, he deflected. “Yea know... the exploding cup incident?” He laughed nervously.

“Just getting to know each other.” Logan said.

“Is that what this is about?” Ghost hissed. “Ya think a few drinks will loosen my lips and make us mates?”

“Lieutenant!” Price snapped. “Relax, and stop being a dick.”

Ghost shrugged. He pulled his mask down long enough to take a drink and then returned it to his face.

“I was just happy to be invited out with you guys. I don't really have many friends. Seemed like a good opportunity to hang out, chat... not trying to force anything.” Logan said, trying to course correct the conversation.

“Ignore him.” Soap said, his tone harsher than normal. “Ole Si here can be a right cunt sometimes.” He paused. “Respectfully, of course, LT.” he added.

“I'm here for a drink and to relax. Not to make friends.” He said eyeing Logan. “He watches Ella for me. I appreciate that.”

Logan took a long drink from his pint. Nearly downing half of it. Liquid courage? Or liquid stupidity? He was about to find out.

“Yeah, getting cunty vibes, suddenly.” He fired back. “And bold of you to assume you're that important in my life.”

Roach, Soap and Gaz sat in utter amazement at the words and tone that spilled from Logan's mouth. Had he been military, Ghost would have beat him within an inch of his life.

Ghost was grinding his teeth under his mask, and everyone could see it. The tension was running high and Price, ever the commanding officer and dad of the group felt the need to diffuse the situation. “Tha'ts enough, lads! We're here to have a drink and enjoy ourselves, not ruing a perfectly good evening.” His words were stern. They were an order.

Logan, flustered but in agreement with Price apologized. “Sorry. I can get hot-headed sometimes. Didn't mean to start shit”

Price raised a hand and gave a nod. “Ghost can have that effect on people.”

“Fuckin' hell... I'll behave.” Was all Ghost was willing to agree to.

Price accepted the response reluctantly.

“So you work in insurance?”Roach chimed in, breaking the silence.

“Uh, yeah.” Logan nodded. “I audit claims that seem suspicious, or clients have made complaints about, or are contesting the settlements of.”

“You must have some funny stories, then, yeah?” He asked.

“Well, cant give out any private information, but I did once get a document from a client who was in a car accident saying they were fine and their medicals were still valid.” Logan smiled, enjoying the shift in conversation.

“You're kidding...” Price interjected.

“Sounds like Ghost after gettin' shot, ya ken? "No sir, I'm still good for duty! It's jus' a flesh wound!" Soap laughed.

Even Price cracked a smile .

“There was also this guy who was pissed that we updated his height after an amputation of his feet. Sent us a pic of himself against a wall with his prosthetic feet on and a measuring tape beside him. He was really concerned about those few inches.”

“Sounds like you, Soap.” Roach fired. “A few inches and all.”

“Oy, fuck you, Roach! I'm a grower not a show-er”

“That is in no way true.” Ghost said flatly.

“Ye lookin' at me cock, LT?” Soap said bemused.

“No much to look at.”

Logan glanced over at Ghost, surprised the man actually has a sense of humour under all that brooding.

Price, through a chuckle told them to calm down before Soap whipped his cock out. Again. “We had a hard enough time finding this place after we were banned.”

“Oh that is a story I need to hear.” Logan laughed.

“Another time, maybe.” Soap winked.

“So how exactly did you two meet, anyway?” Price asked, pointing between Gaz and Logan.

Logan shot Gaz a look, as if asking permission to tell the story. Gaz gave a tentative nod, so Logan began the tale.

“Well, I had just come back from the grocer, may hands full of bags, and Gaz was already waiting for the lift to arrive. I don't think we had shared more than three words in all the time we had seen each other.” Logan laughed.

“Nah, mate. Definitely more than three. I wished you a Merry Christmas, said Hello every time I saw you, asked if you needed help the time you were trying to get the sofa...”

“They get it!” Logan said, cutting Gaz off. “Anyway.” He turned his attention back to the table. “We get in the lift, it starts to head to the first floor and then...”

“Power cuts.” Gaz added. “Lift stops, lights go out.”

“So we hit the emergency button, call for help, and we're told help is on the way.” Logan took a swig of beer before continuing. “Little did we know it would take nearly four hours for that help to actually fee us.”

“You never told us about this, Gaz.” Price said, with almost a tinge of hurt.

“Just didn't seem important, Cap.” Gaz gave a shrug, and that was all Logan needed to redact parts of the story.

“Well, as I said, I had groceries. So after twenty minutes, I take a seat on the floor. Gaz took a seat not to long after that.” Logan nodded, remembering the series of events. “Lights came back on about thirty minutes into our wait. So... we started to have a chat.”

Logan omitted the mild panic attack Gaz had begun during the wait. Later learning that the jolting of the lift, and the scraping metal had triggered something. Logan had managed to ground Gaz and work him through the attack before it got out of control, though just barely.

“The first hour in, my ice cream was almost soup. So I took it out and offered some to Gaz”

“Wait... what did you use as spoons?” Roach squinted with curiosity.

“Ugh.” Gaz groaned. “All we had were celery stalks. And let me tell you bruv, it was awful.” He let out a delicate laugh.

“He ate it all.” Logan said flatly, taking another drink of his beer.

“Oy! I did not you liar! And you offered it to me!” Gaz defended.

Logan smiled and took the time to gaze over at Ghost. To his surprise he was actually listening intently. 'not here to make friends my ass,' he thought to himself. Ghost and Logan's eyes lock for a split second before looking away.

“Anyway,” Logan said, deciding to wrap the story up, “Power came on and the doors opened about three hours and fifty minutes later. I had to also toss all the milk out. But after that, Gaz and I just started talking more regularly.

The drinks ran dry again, and Logan offered to refill them again. Gaz offered to help, and grab another pitcher.

“Thanks for not telling the guys about my panic attack in the lift.” Gaz said with pained sincerity.

“It wasn't my part of the story to tell.” Logan gave Gaz a pat on the shoulder.

As they waited, Logan felt the need to talk about Ghost. “So what's up with Ghost? Ghost. Whatever. I know he wasn't exactly chatty when we met or brought Ella over. But he also wasn't such an ass.”

“Sorry about him,” Gaz said, leaning against the bar. “Might be the last mission. I cant really say much... but someone got hurt.”

“Ghost was in command?” Logan asked.

Gaz gave a nod. “Doesn't take 'failure' well. Got chewed out a bit too.”

“Price?”

Gaz shook his head. “Laswell. You haven't met her, but she can be intense.”

“Gaz, I know you started all this to set us up...” Logan let out a sigh. “But I cant see this working. He doesn't like people. How is he going to like me?”

“So you like him.” Gaz grinned.

“Gaz, fuck off.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Does he always take his issues out on others?”

“Yeah. Mostly recruits.” Gaz scratched at the back of his head. “But honestly, mate? He's being nice to you in comparison.”

“I'm thrilled.” Logan remarked sarcastically. “Whats going to happen when his regular dog-sitter is available again? I love seeing Ella, but I think he's gonna stop bringing her over.” Logan rubbed at his eyes. “Gaz, this was always going to be temporary.”

“OK, OK. I admit I started this to set you two up.” Gaz admitted. “But, I really think he needs a friend outside of the base. I think Ella could be the first building block to that relationship.” He took a moment to think. “But honestly, he does like you. He's just too prideful and stubborn to admit it. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't even speak to you.”

“I'll have to take you at your word.” Logan gave an unconvincing smile.

As the night wore down, Ghost excused himself and made his way to the door. Out of the corner of his eye, Logan noticed a mobile laying on the floor. “Anyone lose a phone?” He said as he picked it up.

“Looks like Ghosts.” Soap said. “Should have time to catch him.”

Logan, thinking this might be the perfect opportunity to smooth things over, offered to take it out to him.

“I'll walk with ya,” Price said. “Bout time I called it a night anyway, and if you miss him I can take it back to the base.”

Logan said his goodbyes to the team and walked out of the pub behind Price. Ghost hadn't made it far. He was engrossed in a burgeoning fight between two drunkards. Logan sprinted a over to him and without thinking, placed his hand on Ghosts shoulder.

“Gho-” Logan got out before Ghost spun around, grabbing him by the wrist and squeezing hard.

“Don't fucking touch...” He yelled, trailing off as he saw Logan and Price. Logan was already falling to a knee from the pain. “Me...”

Logan felt crippled by the grip, and his legs buckled. White-hot rage suddenly overcame him and he balled his hand into a tight fist. He was at just the perfect height to punch Ghost's balls back inside his body.

“Lieutenant!” Price ordered.

Ghost released his grip. “I didn't know it was you.” He said his voice filled with tension. “What do you want?”

“You forgot your phone, Lieutenant. Logan was bringing it to you.” His voice was laced with irritation. “Show some gratitude, and apologize.”

Logan, trying to take the high road, let the rage wash away and handed him the phone.

Ghost, still tense and unwilling to apologize, looks at Logan with a guarded expression. “Look, I didn't mean to... react that way. It was a reflex.” His voice was gravelly.

“Jesus Christ.” Price huffed, already exhausted with Ghost's attitude. Logan, holding his wrist in pain, looked at Ghost with a mix of frustration and disappointment. “That fucking hurt, Simon.”

“Ghost.”

“Simon.” Logan said. He wasn't willing to make any concessions. “I was just trying to return your phone.” Ghost was avoiding eye contact, and shifted uncomfortably. He was pushing the mix of feelings he had down. Mostly the anger. He didn't mean to hurt Logan, why didn't he understand that?

“Logan, you OK?” Price asked.

Logan gave a nod, still rubbing his wrist.

“Riley. Back to base now. We'll talk about this tomorrow.” Price commanded. “And Logan, I'll get Gaz to take you home. He has a first aid kit at home and can take a look at your wrist.”

“Sure.” Logan wasn't feeling in the mood to argue.

The night ended with an ice pack on his wrist in his flat. Logan couldn't help but think of what a fucking disaster the whole thing had been, and was convinced this would be the end of any outings with the one-four-one. Probably for the best.

[spearcast]

(Potential spoilers for the MW2 twist in the middle left portion of the sketch page! Or. Sorta kinda.)

Some sketches ft. River Dennison, newest oc to be added to my own bit of the COD universe (': I'll happily transcribe this more in the morning but I am beat and am dropping this off before disappearing for the evening

(TLDR is; top left, River explaining that they value the lives of their fellow 141 members over their own; top right, Gaz enjoys a coffee while River enjoys a tea and the two chat; middle left, River reacts to their brother Markus when That Scene Happens since Markus is part of Shadow Company (while also highlighting that River tends to let their hair down immediately post-missions durinf debriefs) ; middle right, Soap says "Don't be like tha' Denny~" while River responds with an annoyed bubble and "I'm ignoring you both", while Ghost looks on with a "heh"; and across the bottom are some facial warm ups I did with one of the MWII posters/ads that has head shots of Alejandro, Soap, Ghost, Price, and Gaz respectively from left to right- the lower left version has the sketch put directly over the official poster, the lower right version is the sketch I made in reference to it on its own)

[syrupwit]

rambling about IZ

When it comes down to it, I just really like writing Zim, I guess? Even though it’s like... mad hard. LOL.

I feel like canon shies away from any sort of genuine feeling, while at the same time serving up this exciting cauldron of DARK THEMES and EXPLOITABLE SOURCES OF REAL SENTIMENT and also (always!) Thrillingly Flavored Comedy. there’s so much to explore, but also a very specific... is zeitgeist the word? Anyway, I love making stuff for this fandom and seeing what other people make. That is all.

-

ETA (guess I wasn’t done):

Like... (and this is how I talk btw, this is me being halfway coherent)

Flippant punchlines at the end of anything! Solves it all!

Teen angst (Neurodivergent teen angst) (potentially gay teen angst) (almost all the gay teens I knew when I was one were into IZ) (my best friend in tenth grade wrote an m/m Dib/OC fic where she was Dib and I was the male OC, and she had me read it; very normal)

Oppressive dystopian alien society

Who knows what’s going on with the sex stuff?? Make it up

Space adventure!

Involuntary hospitalization

Scatological jokes

Abuse

Whatever is going on with Dib and Gaz’s sibling relationship. Very relatable portrayal of siblings.

Mad scads of science fiction tropes

Hopelessness but it’s funny