Sagacity
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“Don’t… touch me, Cap,” John wheezes, his fingers curling into claws as he tries to pull at his own vest. The friction of the Kevlar like sandpaper on raw nerves. “I’ll… burn ye.”
“Jesus,” Price murmurs under his breath, but there is no hesitation from Simon, the man stripping off his gloves, tendrils of frost curled around his fingertips.
“Simon,” John grits. “Don’t.”
“You can’t hurt me, Johnny,” Simon murmurs, hands moving to John’s vest, careful movements as helps him rip it off.
For COD Hybrid Week 2026!
- Mates (Day 1)
- Sex Pollen (Day 7)- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by Sagacity
25 Jun 2026
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Noah and the Anglerfish by HigherMagic for Niceven (Nicevensilace)
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
13 Jan 2025
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“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap breathes. “How often does he do this?”
Gaz turns, then, and meets his eye. “Us, and Price… We’re the only ones who’d live to talk about it,” he says. “It’s a last resort.” He reaches out, then, and puts his hand on Soap’s arm. “Being his handler means being the one to call the shots, Soap. We’re the only bloody things he cares about. Everything else is fodder. If you ever have to make this call, you better be damn sure you don’t care about survivors, because there won’t be any.”
Price had been so eager to give the order. Imagine holding the nuke in your hands, knowing that you’ll be the only thing to survive its detonation. Imagine being Noah, but with the power to call the Flood whenever he wished.
Soap shivers, something not altogether kind or good curling around his brainstem at the notion.
Whether Gaz clocks it or not, he can’t say, but he eventually murmurs, “You’ll need a psych eval after this. We all get one after Ghost smokes out. Even him.”
Soap frowns. “Why?”
Gaz shrugs. “You’ll have to ask him. Personally, I think we all like it a bit too much.”
Soap blushes, and doesn’t have the words for why.
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Bookmarked by Sagacity
24 Jun 2026
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Onyx and Lapis Lazuli by HigherMagic for assholeachilleus
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
28 Nov 2024
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“We don’t eat children,” Ghost finally mutters, because it’s annoying him, and his shoulders ache, and he can’t believe that rumor actually got any traction. Why would dragons eat children? They’re hardly more than a mouthful.
To his surprise, Soap laughs. “I ken,” he replies, grinning when Ghost turns to look at him. “And ye don’t keep virgins for a hundred years to ripen ‘em up, and ya don’t even hoard all that badly. I’m no’ daft.”
“Could’a fooled me,” Ghost mutters.
“Ye attacked me in the dead of night when I was asleep, used yer fuckin’ dark magic on me,” Soap snaps. “In a fair fight I’da won.”
Ghost snorts again, ashy and hot behind his mask. “Unlikely.”
“Take off these bonds and we’ll see then, eh?”
Bookmarked by Sagacity
24 Jun 2026
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Bombs, Babies, and Bullets by HigherMagic for Niceven (Nicevensilace)
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
15 Aug 2025
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For a long time, the 141 has been exclusively birds.
This isn’t by design; a lot of those that choose to go spec ops are birds, or particularly well-suited breeds of dogs and cats, the occasional mustelid and, for one particular mission where they’d had to house a foreign unit, a very inconvenient bull. Usually, though, it’s animals that are good in small groups as well as large ones, groups that can form flocks and packs and colonies, respectively.
They are a flock, mismatched and odd though they are, and Ghost has always assumed that, should they welcome a fourth into their unit, for a trial run or otherwise, their prime candidates would be other birds.
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Bookmarked by Sagacity
23 Jun 2026
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"Ghost," Soap says, sharper this time, a little edge of order in his voice. Ghost's shoulders tense, roll up. He winces and straightens again, staring up at Soap. The eye contact is settling, a little - seeing Ghost's eyes focus on him is reassuring, tells Soap that Ghost is with him at least. He forces a smile. "What's goin' on in that pretty little head, huh?"
He means it to tease, hopes it'll make Ghost roll his eyes, scoff and shove at him, as he always has when Soap turns flirty and intimate. Ghost's boundaries are well-known and well-respected - he likes the social play of it all, comfortable in platonic submission that lets Gaz and Soap and Price needle at him, seek reassurance that he's their steadfast and constant foundation, but pulls a hard and fast stop when it progresses too far. Soap expects to hit that wall, to get a little snark and be dismissed as a worrying mother hen.
But Ghost just stares up at him, unblinking, his eyes unbearably warm, cheeks flushed along the edges of his mask.
Soap frowns, reaches out to put the back of his hand on Ghost's forehead. Ghost's lashes flutter weakly.
"Think I'm droppin'," Ghost mutters, leaning into the touch.
Bookmarked by Sagacity
23 Jun 2026