Oct 14, 2025
@worldtoruin can you swap hormones with me? hurry. this place is gonna blow.
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@worldtoruin can you swap hormones with me? hurry. this place is gonna blow.
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“you make a lot of threats for someone whose short and can’t even do a push-up.” / worldtoruin i could not stop giggling at this one
It pissed him off instantly, of course. "I can do a push-up!" he snapped. "But your big stupid butt is in the way!" He tried to roll over, but Eli was good and sat on his spine. "When I get up, I'm gonna cook you and eat you! I'm gonna feed you to the squads! I'll-- I'll chop you up into a stew-- and when they say, mm, what's this? I'll tell them it's idiot!"
' i once believed it was possible to make a difference. that, if we spilled enough blood, we could change the way people think. ' -- worldtoruin (maybe post mgs1 au but u pick idc)
"--sure, it'll change the way people think. And not for the better." It was difficult to make out his eyes in the low light, but it was a fair guess to say that they were disappointed. Snake was always disappointed with Liquid, in some way or another. Or disdainful. Or disgusted. Never anything positive. Recently, he'd tried hiding it, but it was still a work in progress.
It was strange. He would have forgiven Wolf, Raven, even Mantis. Being on opposing sides of a war was no reason to hate somebody, especially not someone who wanted to turn over a new leaf. But Liquid-- it was hard. The things he'd said had lodged in Snake quite deep, it seemed. Otacon and Mei Ling could handle him, for the most part; David just couldn't stomach it for more than a few minutes at a time. "Makes people think spilling blood is a great way to make a point."
@worldtoruin
"You're not listening to me." He suppressed the urge to stomp his foot. He had to keep his cool. "I'm telling you, we could leave. All of us. Right now. That's an American chopper. They haven't taken it apart yet! There should be a distress signal aboard -- the US military could come pick us up. We could be out of here!"
one grabs the other’s wrist mid-strike and doesn’t let go. you can decide if tpp or pre mgs1 foxhound era -- worldtoruin
it's almost nostalgic, ocelot can't help but muse in the moment.
the root cause had been almost nothing; some throw-away comment about his father that must have struck some kind of sensitive nerve (as if he hadn't prodded it intentionally). the end result was mainly that eli - or liquid - had reacted in the exact same kind of knee-jerk, violent way that he would have as a child. a bit of work cut out for ocelot, then, as he grabs at his wrist and holds him there. he was at least physically stronger than he was back then. he just needed to learn how to actually use it. they make boys like this lead FOXHOUND now, do they?
what would his father say… that was probably what ocelot had said, come to think of it. he tsks. “⠀trying to hit an old man?⠀” he smiles, all smug and with some slight malice. “⠀you really never learned, did you? after all that time.⠀”
it was strange, to see familiar features in liquid's face, now - if it weren't for the blonde hair, he'd be a very close match. stranger still was that he could still recognize some of the features in his softer face from childhood. that anger in his eyes certainly remained unchanged, along with the agitated little furrow of his brow.
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' i won’t let nothing happen to you. ' -- worldtoruin
"Let anything," he murmured, too quiet for Eli to hear. His thumb smoothed compulsively over his trousers, again and again, trying to keep the material from wrinkling at the knees. These fatigues were two sizes too big, and while a belt kept them up, he found them difficult to walk in. Simultaneously, there was a part of him that appreciated the shapelessness of them, how they swallowed his figure. It was like wearing a tent, or a blanket: nobody needed to see him. Not that anyone was looking, realistically, but he imagined their eyes, hundreds of eyes, all on him -- on them. The urge to retreat, to make himself small and silent, crawled up his spine. But Miller had dragged him out of the vents just that morning, and he didn't want to know what would happen if he found him in there again. So, Eli's shadow was the safest place to be.
i love talking to my beloved twin brother 😔
📂📂
send for a random headcanon : accepting!
v. body headcanons! i see mgs3 ocelot as being pretty lean; he stayed fit mostly with body weight and the general handy work that all soldiers have to do. he wasn’t particularly strong in say, the three-big-lift maxes kind of way: about above average in that department but he had great cardio and could smash out a ton of reps for anything calisthenics-centered. he had about a ten to eleven minute 2-mile, stuff like that. around tpp he beefs up a little. i couldn’t find any pictures (probably cause the scene is pretty explicit), but my specific body headcanon for him in tpp is harvey keitel’s in who’s that knocking at my door if you’re curious ;3c
vi. despite his namesake, ocelot really isn’t a fan of cats. they’re inherently self-centered creatures, and don’t have much practical use. he much prefers dogs: they’re loyal, useful, and he finds them decently easy to train (even with difficult breeds).