back before simon was drafted and he was still working in some butcher around the outskirts of manchester, he remembers a little bakery a few blocks down from his shop. although never particularly crowded, he's noticed the older locals go by in the mornings for coffee, kids guided in by their parents after schools to get a snack. but he doesn't seem to lounge in the corner of that cafe for either of those reasons- instead, he finds himself fawning over the pretty baker.
and you're nice to him, too- always smiling when you see him around, voice so sweet when you're at the butchers to buy some meat for the pies, sneakily trying to slip him a discount whenever he goes to buy a sandwich- 'hospitality workers gotta stick together, right?' it's no wonder that he finds himself falling for you, a stupid puppy crush that he tries, and occasionally fails, to suppress. and sometimes, simon lets himself believe you like him too, with the way the blood rushes to your cheeks when you spot him across the shelves, with he notes how you nearly fumble a frothing pot of milk when caught staring at him. it's a little attempt of young love that he thinks will be smothered out as he gets older.
but now it is twenty years later, he is working with the sas, and he is meant to be dead. but simon finds himself strolling his hometown, genuinely surprised that he sees the cafe still up, that he sees you, still working behind the display cabinets. you're older now, more mature, but your smile is just as pretty as it was those years ago. and he sees that glimmer of recognition in your eyes, how your head perks up at the sight of his figure outside of the window.
ghost smothers his cigarette and bins it before walking through the doors. may as well pay the bird a visit.
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obsessed with the idea of reader having special weird nicknames for the cod guys, little ideas and why. this is the way I give nicknames so
Price: "Milkshake." now you'd think its for maybe a cutesy reason? no. price had enough with his team,the poor lads were cooped up inside with nothing to do. the training grounds which he calls "the yard" is where he would take them to get all the pent up energy out. and you thought it was the funniest thing in the damn world when he said "I'm bringing the boys to the yard." it reminded you of that song Milkshake. You're just funny like that. he's made peace with it
Soap: Now theres many versions of this that you call him. "BB". which stands for "baby blues" it's the color of his eyes, for such a gruff man he's got very lovely eyes. Or sometimes you just refer to him as "Blue". Sitting atop a humvee in the middle of the forest, eating your MRES you glance over to soap, when he does look back at you, you kinda just stare. he doesn't seem to mind much to tired to even say anything, he just zoned out looking into your eyes, it was cute. his eyes looked nice in this light, strays of shimmering sun light dancing over his face, catching them just right. that's how he got the nickname. when Gaz got back from doing his rounds and saw you and soap just staring at each other, he couldn't help but be a bit jealous.
Ghost: "Monster" because of his size? no. because of how he looks? no. because of how he acts? no. because of how he eats pizza. he doesn't cut his pizza into slices, hell he doesn't cut it at all! he grabs it and lays it on his finger, so all the side drop down around his hand, toppings on the outside. he grabs the very middle and shoves the whole thing down his throat like a fucking snake. he's a monster.
Gaz: "Rocker" or sometimes its "Rockstar" you've seen his play list, if its not rock its rap, either way he's head banging, first pumping over and over in the air as he screams the lyrics with a huge grin on his face like a rowdy teenager, even if its a song you don't like or don't know, by the middle you'll be vibing just as hard as gaz is, how could you not when he looks over at your with that smile, seeing if you vibe with what he's playing, he'll hype you up to the whole time. its fucking fun, 10/10 would ride with gaz again
Graves: "Riddler" before and after the betrayal he was the Riddler. because he asked too many questions the first time you met, to his defense he was plastered and wanted to know everything about you. after he had betrayed you, it went from a silly and endearing jab to an insult deep and full of hate. the one and only time he got his grip on you and successfully kiddnaped you he smiled so brightly when you spit the name at him whenever he said anything. god he missed you, and if being the Riddler to your Batman is what it takes to get to see you again, he'll where the name with pride.
Alejandro: "Big guy" you know how gym bros will refer to another as "big guy" if they don't know the dudes name? yeah that's pretty much what happened, somehow he failed to mention his name so until you figured it out he was dubbed "big guy" until YEARS YES YEARS later you and the team, afew other were at his ranch for a bbq you heard one his men yell out "Alejandro! were out of ice I'll grab some from the store real quick" you paused and leaned over to Rudy "hey...who the hell is Alejandro? don't think I've met him." "...you can't be serious."
Rudy: "Sweetness" it started as a joke and became just what you called him. he only let you call him that, because well to you, he was Sweetness. the sweetest even. you had already had one to many drinks, enough to be aware of your surroundings but not the stuff coming out of your mouth, you leaned heavily against Rudys shoulder, his arm snaking around you to hold you up. you giggle softly at the soft smile on his face "hehe so sweet-hic like candy...mmm sweetness is what we should call you" Rudy was a soldier, a real man. but he sure flushed like a school girl. Ale can't wait until the wedding.
Nikolai: "gun man" that is a story in itself, pretty obvious. you love walking up to him, arms open wide "hey! there's my gun man!" he laughs and pulls you into one of his big tight hugs. it's the same way whenever you board his helicopter "gun man, keep use steady we got some injured back here" "of course malysh"
Price first met you through a Facebook group about crochet and knitting. In his defense, he was recovering from a bullet wound, and the nurse put his phone on it because the pretty colors keep patients occupied while on those particular pain killers and sedatives.
Two days later, Price is still talking to someone he is pretty sure is an 80-year-old with dementia. They have atrocious spelling, seemingly struggling with technology, and use words that sound like the old encyclopedias. They often talk about how glad they to finally have retired. Every so often, they seem to think he is their husband.
The truth is, the reader has decided to put a ring on this man and occasionally forgets that he is not yet in the know of their plans. The reader fell for him hard as he seemed genuinely interested when they infodump about their most recent projects. The reader retired from a specialized field of work and is actually a few years younger than Price. They do however, have some minor memory issues from working in that field, and they were feeling a bit isolated before meeting Price.
Price enjoys how excited this person gets, and if pretending to be their husband for a bit makes them that happy...
The others tease him for it, of course, but he couldn't care less. Everyone has weird coping mechanisms in this line of work, as it has become some sort of strange addiction. Even sending flowers to his online bestie, in turn receiving pictures of the newly thrifted vase that his darling put the flowers in. Darling is complaining about the stupid heating in their house acting up. Price got it covered; a workman is there within the day, whom Price has personally done background checks on and threatened. Darling accidentally lets it slip that they want a new set of pots and pans. No worries, Price has already ordered them just to see the pictures of whatever Darling is making in them. Price sends pictures of himself but never asks for pictures, knowing that people with dementia often become confused and aggravated when they see images of themselves.
The reader is just delighted any time she opens the door and someone says, "Your husband sent me" or "these are from your husband." The reader also assumes this is Price accepting their proposal and is already picking out rings and venues, and everything. After all, their spouse is a busy man in the military shouldn't bother them with anything stressful until it is mostly put together for him to approve of or tweak. Unfortunately, you did not get to show him these plans before radio silence hit.
The team had been thrown into one room as their captors freaked out. None of them had any clue what was happening, but they immediately set to checking each other's wounds. They were worse for wear but alive and mostly in one piece.
The captors start to scream about coms going down, then the lights shut off. They hear the sounds of helicopters and gunfire. It would just as easily be another enemy as it could be a rescue team. So Price positions himself at the front of his men even as they are still restrained in the dark. Then Price hears his darling and freezes.
"YOU FREAKS COULD NOT KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO MAKE A TEMPITURE BLANKET IN MY RETIRMENT!" sounds of metal hitting metal filter through the door. Price later finds out that you ran out of ammo and started throwing wrenches.
To everyone's surprise, the door is busted open, and an operator by the callsign Bugged stepped in. It was not the first time the team had interacted with Bugged and their team, but it was the first time Bugged had spoken in front of them.
Bugged moved quickly while their team covered. Bugged slid in front of Price, ripping off their balaclava, and kissed Price. "My husband, what have they done to you?" Bugged gets them all out of their restraints, while refusing to leave Price's side. Price is stunned because this is his darling's voice, but that is a young adult. Soap thankfully fills up the surprised silence in the copper, asking Bugged about a million questions. Many of which they decline to answer. Then the call sign question came up, "Oh well, there are two reasons for my call sign. I can break just about any tech. Also, if I ever see a red wasp, I will defy physics to get away. Thankfully, I do not have to worry about that at home anymore. Price hired a bug guy to come around once a month and treat the outside of my house." Bugged leans over, giving Price a quick kiss on the cheek. "My husband spoils me." The boys are giving him the dirtiest looks for hiding Bugged from them, and Price is still processing this whole thing.
When Price, who received the most injuries, is put on bed rest for a week, he is then faced with the wedding binder and cake tastings with all of his men there. "None of you eats enough. Got to get you looking healthy for the wedding photos."
Price finally fesses up that he thought you were an 80-year-old with dementia out of guilt during the cake tasting. "Well, you courted me, now I want ya babies bio or adopted, so again, what color do you like?"
Soap is never going to let him live down the fact that he got reverse catfished into a hot spouse.
(All pictures found on Pinterest)
Inspired by this video
The mission was supposed to be simple. Drive, get off 1 klick away from destination, extract hostages, get in, run.
What you found is a humvee that rolled in, by another humvee. It's off to a bad start, because if a humvee needed towing, it's fucked.
"Guys." You began, already snapping on a single glove, because the military somehow has enough money to pay for wars but not enough to buy more gloves for mechanics.
The boys look up at you, still blissfully unaware of what is wrong.
"Did you drive through any water?" Price shakes his head. "Nope, maybe a puddle." You sigh, because how else would an engine just stop working on a mission with you inspecting everything regularly.
"Fine, I'll take a look," you reply, shooing them away from your workspace.
Going through all of the parts to get to the engine is annoying, but knowing the 141, that's not the most annoying part. And you were goddamn right.
First thing you see in the engine bay is a swimming pool. You don't yell at them yet, because you want to enjoy it. As much as you can with the probably ruined engine.
You open the cap of the engine and you immediately regretted standing over the cap, because the water shot up instantly. Water just exploded in your face.
You took a step back, closing your eyes and trying to not get water in your lungs. "God damnit!" you shouted at no one in particular, wiping your face with a rag that has seen too much in its life.
As you suspected, the engine was hydro locked. Badly. The rods were bent beyond repair, one having snapped, the crankshaft is crying out for help. The oil is contaminated with water and God do you need a raise.
You shoot a quick message in the 141 group chat, asking them to come. It took maybe 10 minutes, but they came, and they were subjected to the stare that could kill a man.
"Can SOMEBODY please explain how you totaled an engine?" Soap opens his mouth but you continue to rant. " 'Just a puddle' you said, 'it'll be fine' you said. No the fuck not."
Gaz had the decency to look sheepish, which you respect, because at least he can drive.
"I don't get paid enough, I swear," You say as you turned on your heel and stuck a middle finger to Price.
OKK. Thinking about older boyfriend price again!! He’d definitely share his expensive whiskey with you. Well, he’d take a sip from his tumbler, before pressing his lips to yours. The amber liquid spilling into your mouth. “There you go..’s good, hm?” He’d rumble against your lips as he pulled away. Oohuhhh Mmmmm.. older boyfriend price pouring whiskey into your mouth every so often while he ruts into you. Or instead, dip his thumb into the glass. Letting you suck around the digit. It’s smooth, goes down easier than any of that cheap whiskey you’ve had before. Your minds mush, pliant for him, gripping him in just the way he loves.
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🍺🦐:You bump into Soap after cleaning, and he ends up hanging out in your room. You talk, joke around, and it feels easy compared to when you first joined the team. He starts teaching you some Scottish words for fun.
I don't speak scottish gaelic so I'm not 100% sure if these are correct.
Tha gaol agam ort=I love u
Tha gràdh agam ort cuideachd= I love u too
(This oneshot was originally published by me on Wattpad. Yes Ik. Shut up.)
——————————————————————————
You're halfway down the hallway with a damp dish towel slung over your shoulder, feeling weirdly accomplished about how spotless the kitchen looks, when you turn the corner too fast and walk straight into a solid wall of muscle.
"Woah, didn't see you there man," you mutter, steadying yourself.
Soap grins like this was the highlight of his day. "Careful, mate. Ye tryin' to take me out before lights out?"
"Tempting," you shoot back, tossing the towel onto your shoulder again. "But I just cleaned. Not ruining that with a crime scene."
He laughs at that then he falls into step beside you like he was heading your way anyway.
A year ago, this place felt like a foreign country. Too many people, voices, and eyes. You'd spent most of your career running solo ops, trusting no one but yourself and whatever plan you came up with on the fly. Being dropped into Task Force 141 had felt like being thrown into a moving train.
Now, though. You know the rhythm. The noise. And the people.
"You done for the night then?" Soap asks, nudging your arm lightly.
"Yeah. Kitchen's clean. If someone messes it up, I'm transferring."
"Ah, tragic. We'd all miss ye terribly. Especially me."
You snort. "Doubt it."
"Aye?" he tilts his head, mock offended. "That's hurtful."
"Survive it."
He hums like he's considering something, then jerks his chin toward your door. "Come on. Got nothin' better to do, right?"
You hesitate for about half a second before shrugging. "Yeah, alright."
———————————
Your room isn't anything special. Bed, desk, a couple of scattered things that prove you actually live here now. Soap makes himself comfortable immediately, dropping onto your bed like he owns it, shoes on and all.
"Your shoes," you point out.
"Relax," he says, not moving an inch.
You grab a pillow and shove it at his head. He catches it mid-air, grinning like he was waiting for it.
"Violent tonight, aren't ye?"
"Take your nasty shoes off."
He sighs dramatically but listens, kicking them off and stretching out like he's settling in for a movie. Silence hangs for a bit, but it's not awkward. Soap breaks it first. "Where'd ye say you were from again?"
You glance over. "You don't remember?"
"I remember," he says quickly. "Just want to hear ye say it again."
"Right."
You tell him anyway, leaning back against the wall. He listens, actually listens, eyes on you like he's filing it away somewhere important.
Soap shifts on the bed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Wasn't too bad today, then?"
You shrug. "Just the normal routine stuff. Cleaning duty, paperwork. Nearly died of boredom halfway through inventory."
He snorts. "Aye, paperwork'll do tha. I was out with Lt earlier. Man barely spoke the whole time. Thought I'd gon deaf for a bit."
"That's just him," you say. "You try talking his ear off again?"
"Course I did," Soap grins. "Told him a whole story about this pub back home. Not a single reaction. Nothin'. I could've been makin' it up and he'd never know."
"You were making it up."
He puts a hand to his chest. "I'm offended ye think so little of me."
You give him a look.
"...Alright, maybe a bit of it," he admits. "But that's not the point."
"Poor guy..." you mutter. "Trapped with you for hours."
"Jealous?" he shoots back immediately.
"Of Ghost? Yeah, living the dream."
Soap laughs again, easy and loud, then lets his head fall back against your pillow like he's getting comfortable for the long haul.
"What about ye?" he asks after a second, glancing your way again. "It's been a year for you no? Still gettin' used to all this?"
"...Yeah," you say, but there's less weight behind it. "It's not bad anymore."
"Not bad," he repeats, like he's testing the words. "High praise."
"Don't let it get to your head Soap."
He smiles at that, softer this time.
There's another pause, quieter than before, and then he suddenly shifts, sitting up a little straighter like he remembered something.
"Alright," he says, clapping his hands once. "Enough about that."
You narrow your eyes. "That sounds suspicious."
"Not suspicious. Educational."
"I hate school."
He ignores you completely. "Ever thought about learnin' Scottish?"
You blink. "Scottish isn't even a language."
"Rude," he says immediately. "It is. Scottish Gaelic. Show some respect."
"Alright, alright," you raise your hands. "Didn't mean to offend your entire country."
"Too late. I'm devastated."
You roll your eyes. "Fine. Teach me something then."
That gets his full attention. He starts to scoots closer, not even trying to hide how invested he suddenly is. "We'll start simple. Easy stuff."
"Good," you say. "Because I'm not memorizing a dictionary tonight."
"Aye, I'll keep it light," he promises.
He gestures with his hand. "Alright. First one, say 'hello.' In Gaelic, it's 'halò.'"
You repeat it, a bit unsure. "Halò."
"Yeah like that," he nods. "Again."
You say it again, smoother this time.
"See? Natural already," he says, clearly pleased.
You roll your eyes. "What else?"
"Hmm..." he thinks for a second. "Try 'how are you.' That's 'ciamar a tha thu.'"
You stare at him, grinning. "You just made that up."
"I did not," he laughs. "Go on."
You attempt it, tripping over the words a bit. "Cee—ciamar...a tha thu?"
"Close enough," he says, grinning. "Means 'how are you.'"
"Alright," you nod. "Useful."
He leans in slightly, clearly enjoying this way more than he should. "Now, if someone asks ye that, ye can say 'I'm fine.' That's 'tha mi gu math.'"
You repeat it, a little more confident now. "Tha mi gu math."
"Aye, there ye go."
You huff out a quiet laugh. "This is actually kinda fun."
"Told ye," he says, like he's been waiting to be right about this.
There's a brief lull while you both sit there, the air lighter now, easier. Then Soap's expression shifts just a bit. Still relaxed, but there's something more focused underneath.
"Alright," he says, voice dropping slightly. "One more."
You glance at him.
"It's still simple," he insists, though he sits up a little straighter. "But this is very important."
You raise a brow but gesture for him to go on.
"Repeat after me," he says, slower now. "Tha gaol agam ort."
You blink. "That sounds longer than 'hello.'"
"Trust me," he replies. "Just say it."
You try, a little clumsy at first. "Ta...gaol...agam ort?"
"Tha," he corrects gently, leaning a bit closer. "Like this- tha gaol agam ort."
You repeat it again, closer this time. "Means what?" you ask.
There's a split second where he hesitates.
"Means..." he starts, then shrugs like it's nothing. "I care about you. Something ye say to someone ye trust."
You nod slowly, tilting your head. "Like you and the rest of the idiots?"
Soap smirks, slow and sharp, like he's been handed the perfect setup. "Aye," he says, dragging the word out. "But mostly me."
You let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah? You ranking yourself above everyone now?"
"Obviously," he shoots back. "Got more charm than the lot of them combined."
"That's not a high bar," you mutter.
"Wow" he says. "After I'm generously teachin' ye valuable life skills."
"Calling this valuable is a stretch."
"Watch it," he warns, though he's still smiling. "Next lesson, I start makin' things up."
"You already do that."
"Only sometimes," he says, pointing at you. "And only for entertainment."
You shake your head, but there's a grin tugging at your mouth anyway. "Right. So if I say this to someone, they're not gonna look at me weird?"
"Depends who," he says. "If it's one of the lads, they'll absolutely make fun of ye."
"Good to know."
"But," he adds, quieter now, "if it's someone ye actually mean it with...they won't."
You glance at him, catching that shift again. Subtle, but there. "...Right," you say, slower this time.
He holds your gaze for a second longer than usual, then leans back like nothing happened, resting his weight on his hands. "Go on then," he nudges. "Say it again. Get it stuck in that head of yours."
You roll your eyes but play along. "Tha gaol agam ort."
"Better," he says immediately.
You repeat it. And again. Each time smoother, easier, like the words are settling into place.
Soap watches every single attempt, quieter now, like he's paying attention to something more than just pronunciation.
"Tha gaol agam ort," you say one more time.
He exhales softly, barely noticeable. "Perfect," he murmurs.
You lean back against the wall, stretching your legs out a bit. "At this rate, I'll be fluent in no time."
Soap lets out a quiet huff of a laugh. "Aye, slow down there. One lesson and ye think ye're ready to move to Scotland?"
"Give me a week," you say. "I'll come back with an accent and everything."
"I'd pay to hear that," he grins. "It'd be awful."
"Wow. Encouraging."
"I'm bein' realistic," he shoots back. "There's levels to this."
You nudge his leg with your foot. "Says the guy who just taught me three phrases and called it a lesson."
"Four," he corrects immediately.
"Right. Life-changing stuff."
"It is," he insists, leaning back on his hands again. "You've got 'hello,' 'how are you,' 'I'm fine'... and-"
You cut in before he can finish, repeating it without thinking. "Tha gaol agam ort."
The words come out smoother this time. Natural. Soap goes quiet again. Not in a bad way. He's just... still.
You glance over. "What?"
"Nothin'," he says quickly, shaking it off. "Just impressed, that's all."
"You're way too invested in this," you mutter.
"Aye, maybe," he shrugs, but there's something softer in it now. "Got a good student. Can't waste that."
You roll your eyes, but there's no bite to it. "Don't expect me to start greeting everyone like that."
"Oh, please do," he says instantly. "Walk into the common room tomorrow, hit 'em with it."
"Absolutely not."
"Pussy."
"Survival instinct," you correct.
He laughs again, shaking his head. "Alright."
There's a small pause, quieter now, like the conversation's settling into something slower. Easier. He huffs a quiet laugh, then, almost under his breath-
"Tha gràdh agam ort cuideachd."
You don't hear it. You're too busy reaching for your phone, checking the time. Completely unaware.
Soap just looks at you for a second, something unreadable flickering across his face before the usual grin settles back in like it never left.
COD Ghosts Characters Reacting to you Being a Brainwashed/A Spy - Teammate GN!Reader
(Bit of backstory, if you want to ignore, you can, but it gives a bit of context to my brain. So you got injured, and you're off the team for a few months recovering at ‘home’, in reality, you were brainwashed by the Federation within that time and brought back to be a spy within Task Force Stalker. Because who would think a trusted friend would ever betray them after coming back from an injury?
AKA Rorke's smart, you brainwashed, you spy. They find out.)
Note: Like all my prior work SFW, could be seen as either platonic or romantic.
–
Includes: Elias ‘Scarecrow’ Walker, David ‘Hesh’ Walker, Logan Walker, Keegan P. Russ, Thomas A. Merrick, and Kick
WARNING: You (character) dies in Elias's, maybe? Idk might be alive? so skip if you don't wanna get upset.
---
Elias ‘Scarecrow’ Walker:
Before Finding Out:
- Elias had noticed something was ‘off’ but couldn't put his finger on what, he ignored his instincts for once in his life because he knew you. He simply brushed off the fact that your gaze was staring into his soul, simply assuming you blamed him for your injury. You got injured on his call, he understood that and if you were blaming him for it, he’d give you time.
- Elias usually never ignores a gut feeling, but one thing he hadn't expected was you getting taken when you were recovering in your own home. He had been texting ‘you’ the whole time; in reality, Rorke had your phone while you were being brainwashed, acting as you to text your family, friends and comrades as if nothing was wrong.
- Elias let his guard down. He had been slowly relaxing the longer things went ‘right’. It was against all his training, all he's worked hard for, but you were you. He knew you for years, you were his comrade, he had trust in you, even if ‘you’ were not you.
After Finding Out:
- But he didn't expect you to be a spy for Rorke. It took a few days before he was able to find you in the act of stealing information off his computer. His personal computer is what irked him the most.
- He questioned you with a firm voice, eyes narrowed as things clicked into place for him. He's the first to pull a weapon, even with your back facing him, he took no chances anymore. Because you weren't familiar, you weren't ‘you’, you didn't give off your usual vibes, and he noticed. Of course, he did, he knew you well, even if he had brushed the subtle changes off for the few days you had been back.
- When you looked at him, that's when he knew you were done. You had the same look in your eyes that Rorke had, detached, almost smug for stealing his intel. Because in your mind, you were ‘right’ to do so, you didn't think you’d shoot him, in whatever fucked up memories the Federation had made you ‘remember’, you were like Rorke, cocky to know Elias ‘wouldn’t’ put you down, or maybe you already did your ‘duty’.
- He didn't fight you, he put you down swiftly. Maybe it was his way of giving mercy, or maybe he had regretted not putting Rorke out of his misery. It was the least he could do for you, the real you.
- He stayed by your side. Maybe it was humorous that he didn't let you fight back, or maybe you chose not to. He chose to sit by your side, offering no words. Just placing his weapon away from you, grieving quietly, you were still his comrade, someone he trusted with his own life. If your places had been switched, he hoped you would do the same for him. A swift, merciful death at the hand of someone who cares, not by an enemy's hand but an old friend's.
- He wouldn't want a repeat of Rorke, that's why he shot so quickly, he didn't inform anyone until morning, maybe he wanted one more night of everyone remembering you for who you had been before the Federation got to you, another regret to hold onto, the fact he acted so quickly without much thought, maybe ‘what ifs’ start creeping up on him overtime with his choice, what if he hadn't pulled the trigger, what if there had been a way to help you get back into bring you again, yet he tried not to let those thoughts get to him, simply reassuring himself it was for the ‘best’. Elias was aware that he had the habit of hesitating, he simply ensured he wouldn’t this time, even if it hurt him.
David ‘Hesh’ Walker:
Before Finding Out:
- He had a feeling, a gut feeling he usually trusted and relied on. Watching you walk the halls normally after your injury, so he opted to try casually checking up on you. Maybe he assumed that your injury was acting up, he didn't realize you were brainwashed since you were acting pretty ‘normal’.
- He paid for your lunch, tried to get you to laugh, even deployed Riley to trip Keegan (Keegan didn't enjoy this) just to try and coax a laugh out of you. When you only offered a fake laugh, he tried to question other people, assuming you were in pain due to your injury still, he brought you a snack, a heating pad or ice for it, tried to do whatever he would do for Logan, using his past experiences to try and make it all ‘better’.
After Finding Out:
- He couldn't do it. He has never known someone to be brainwashed before; he wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger. For Rorke? It would have been easy, he had no personal ties but with you? The gun in his hand has never been heavier. He simply couldn't do it.
- He's never felt stupider for not noticing, much like Elias, he subconsciously knew something was off, yet he was deep in denial, he knew for a ‘fact’ you had been home, you just had a rough recovery from your injuries, that's all, he tries to make an excuse, tries to come up with one for you.
- He understood now how his dad felt about Rorke, why Elias always had that look on his face whenever facing him, you were ‘His Rorke’. Even with the threat you currently were, even with the shot he was fully capable of taking, you managed to get away because of his hesitation.
- He blames himself constantly, now stuck in his own cycle of guilt and mixed feelings. He knew logically you were a threat he should have taken out when he had known for a fact, yet he couldn't do it. He couldn't do the job he was raised to do: protect and serve. Due to him letting you get away, the Federation now has another Ghost in their hands.
Logan Walker:
Before Finding Out:
- He dropped off little gifts at your door when you were injured, whenever he got a rare day to himself, he never saw you at your place, but the gifts were always gone by the time he came back, so he assumed you enjoyed them. (Rorke enjoyed all the gifts in front of you while you were going through it, sorry)
- When you came back to base, he noticed you were less yourself, yet chose not to say anything about it because he simply thought you took your injury harshly, you had been out of work for months, it would be a normal reaction to just grit your teeth and slowly get back into the swing of missions and team dynamics again, he thought so anyway.
- He'd follow you around. He didn't even realize he was foiling your plan on infiltrating the team; you had to work simply to get away from him to report back to Rorke. This was his way of ensuring you were okay, and well… it sucked to be a spy if a guy wouldn't leave you alone, like he's by your side 24/7 the first few days you returned to base (the same way he follows Hesh around), he watches. Quietly, picking up on odd behaviours, noting them, and pointing them out to Hesh quietly.
After Finding Out:
- To be completely honest? He isn't surprised about it, he had a nagging feeling something had been wrong with you, he just hadn't been able to figure out what. He's hurt, yes, confused slightly, yet unlike Hesh, he doesn't hesitate, and unlike Elias, he doesn't act to swiftly and do something he'd regret.
- He disarms you and ensures your safety, yet also ensures you couldn't get back to the Federation when he catches you in the act of doing something you would never normally do. He has reason, and he’d find proof after when no one was in danger, his comrades or you.
- Logan acts quickly, quietly, and efficiently. Prying those around him for answers, trying to find some sort of ‘cure’ or way to help you. He silently sticks up for you despite the fact you're brainwashed, no, he wouldn't allow those around him to hurt you in the slightest, yet he also couldn't allow you to hurt those around him or anyone for that matter.
Keegan P. Russ:
Before Finding Out:
- He doesn't notice at first, but his body does. He's on alert, and for the life of him, he couldn't understand why. You were acting like yourself, using your usual humour, yet it also felt like you were mocking him, even if it wasn't said out loud.
- You two have been comrades for years and subconsciously have engraved habits on the field, he makes a face while trying to figure out why you suddenly didn't have his back the way you used to, he’d start snarky arguments with you over it, assuming you were out of practice, or you needed more time to recover if your head wasn't in the game.
- Your relationship took a big hit. In the few days you were back at base, he couldn't grasp why you were so much the same yet ‘different’. You had been at your place, and he had visited you at your place within the first few weeks after you got your injuries a few times, and you had been fine there. What he didn't know was that after he stopped showing up was exactly when Rorke found you. It was easier to deal with an injured ghost all alone rather than one surrounded by comrades. It was strategic on Rorke's end. When all the Ghosts were focused on his next imaginary move, he played the right piece unpredictably and went where they least expected him, you.
After Finding Out:
- He felt pretty shitty that he didn't figure it out sooner, that he hadn't seen it, he was trained, he had years of experience, so why did he let his guard down with you when he knew exactly what happened to Rorke. He's angry, you were taken in your own home, why did he even stop visiting you? If he hadn't, would he have found out sooner? Why had he been so focused on Rorke's next move in front of them? The clues that had been given were false, a fake lead and in putting all his attention onto those leads, he hadn't looked behind himself at you.
- It was a foolish mistake to assume you would have been safe. His mind starts reeling as he looks for information leaks, records, trying to find the exact date you were officially last seen before showing up again, how long did the Federation have you? And what else did he not know.
- He'd catch you in the act, no matter how subtle you were. A op gone bad had led to it, learning you had been the one feeding Rorke information, it stung even if he didn't let it show. He gave you two warnings, two warnings he wouldn't offer anyone else,
if you attack, the two of you battle, lethal force if necessary. He wouldn't risk himself or those around him yet if it's just you and him battling? He attempts to disarm you, he doesn't fight as hard as he normally would because you already knew his every move, and he knew yours. This battle would probably end in a bloody draw or you both slipping away from one another.
If you just ‘give up’, his voice is utterly gentle taking a easy win where he could actually help you was a win in his book, he’d take you into custody, you’d be cared for, he’d attempt to give you time to regroup, process all that happened, yet you also aren't allowed to leave HQ until they figure out a safe solution to the brainwashing.
Thomas A. Merrick:
Before Finding Out:
- Merrick treats his injured comrades very well despite his usual gruff, he tries to encourage you to ease back into the swing of things around HQ and missions. He actually encourages you to take one more mission off before fully returning to the field, despite knowing you were cleared. He wants to ensure you're all good, physically and mentally, before any type of mission.
- He didn't really notice the slight difference in you. He assumes it's just nerves from not being on the field or at work for a few months and attempts to help you with any task given. He asks Elias about it, asking if you were ready, even if you were medically cleared, he's slightly concerned.
After Finding Out:
- He knocks you unconscious swiftly when it's revealed, not dealing with Rorke 2.0. You're monologuing like Rorke does (As if purposely mimicking him), not paying much attention to Merrick, cause you're too busy making everyone else feel like shit, too busy planning your getaway while talking to notice him behind, he slams his rifle into the back of your head. Nice enough to catch you when you fall though! (If that doesn't knock you out, he does it again, brutal ass, but he's got too much to do than to let you get away and have another headache form about the Federation)
- After his brutal assault, he doesn't let anyone else have their turn, strictly enforces you into the infirmary, but you're still a prisoner due to your state. Until they figure out something concrete about your condition and how to get you back to being you, you're kinda stuck there.
- If you act out, even if you don't register his words, he threatens to knock your ass out again every time you cause problems. (He doesn't do it again unless necessary. He cares for you, even if he did use brute force, it saves him from you going back to the Federation in this state, and multiple possible headaches from you and Rorke together.)
Kick:
Before Finding Out:
- Kick tries to sweet-talk his way into your good books, he assumes you're upset at him when you return all ‘down’. He semi-blames himself for your injury, and you being ‘upset’ at him makes him a little worse. He tries to play off your ‘anger’ as a joke like he usually would, yet when you don't react the way he used to, is exactly when he figures something was up. Because who wouldn't laugh at his jokes?
- He tries to figure out what was wrong, did he not apologize soon enough? Were you not in a joking mood? He tries to semi-coax an answer with a sheepish smile, yet it drops when he doesn't get much of a reaction.
- He doesn't take it seriously until you mess up during a field mission, that's when he's watching more closely. He keeps up his usual jokes, yet his eyes never stray from you too long, asks to borrow your phone, and gets frustrated when he finds nothing. He just keeps trying to pry for information, getting nowhere over a few days.
After Finding Out;
- Kick has a hard time believing it, you? Federation soldier. Absurd. He treats it like a cruel joke when he's the first to figure it out. Yet he informs Elias, informs his comrades, because he couldn't believe it. He needed them to be on his side, that this is absurd, you'd never be a Federation soldier. He didn't even know you were brainwashed.
- Subtlety tries to press for answers, he assumes they paid you or something, or maybe they used a life to bargain with you, you wouldn't betray them, him, for something small, so it had to be pretty big of a deal.
- They don't figure out you're brainwashed until your capture. Kick’s the one who did the interrogation. He had pressed Elias to let him do it, let him face you, let him press for answers.
- He didn't get any, other than a blank face staring into his own. That's when he knew you were brainwashed. When you completely shut down after your mission was ‘done’.
- He tries his best to help you. In slight defeat, he tries to suggest a lighter punishment, not even a punishment. In your state, you needed help, and he’d press or vouch for you to get it.
Riley; (Dog mention?)
- He knew something was off about you the moment you re-entered HQ maybe it was your smell, or the fact that you were attempting to act like your past self, yet it wasn't natural.
- He’d bark more, whine at Hesh while pawing your way, trying to alert his handler of something being off. He knew something was off, yet he was indeed a dog and couldn't communicate it.
- He doesn't right out attack you, but he's also hesitant to act the way he used to around you. No longer happy barking at you, or sitting by your side whenever possible, he's suddenly on guard, watching you closely like he was aware you were now an enemy.
Note: Guess who's back? Back again. Hopefully with more semi-canon headcannons this time. And yeah, I know it's been a year, my bad. I should probably replay the games, and I have no idea if this is good, nor do I know if anyone still wants these headcanons lol, haven't done any of these in forever. Feel free to let me know if I'm missing something! But glad to be home.
pools of amber glide up along the apples of your cheeks until he meets your gaze. he sits lazily on the sofa. the side of his calf rests against his knee and his arms are spread eagle on the back of the cushions as he takes you in.
“everything alright?”
he’d been in a trance this entire time, enamored by the routine waltz you did around your shared space everyday.
“s’nothin’ dove.”
he smells the doubt that wafts off of you, and stands. his big bear paw of a hand encompasses your waist when he walks by, a kiss pressing to the crown of your head.
