themotherofhorses

[themotherofhorses]

can you kindly shut the fuck up about your oc?

no and woah missy language

#vic’s asks and replies #silentdove r.

[themotherofhorses]

\\Lil Rant

If You feel that people shipping their oc with your Cod Blorbo for some reason inhibits your enjoyment of your fandom experience because it "Gets in the way" of your Oc x Canon; I kindly ask you don't interact with my stuff.

Because I'm just gonna assume you're seething in your seat behind surveillance cameras like a super villain or some shit because what are you on 😭

If you don't like other people shipping their ocs with your favorite character but still follow the artists who ship their ocs with previously mentioned character, why follow them??

I'm going to encourage the Hell out of OC x Canon regardless if they ship the same character because Like AUs exist, Our Ocs can coexist and like the same mediocre military dude.

#!!!! #tumblr is already a hell site #no need to make it worse

[themotherofhorses]

anyways, here’s Dove with Ésevone.

"Simon Riley is toxic," "Simon Riley is a cold and distant man that enjoys inflicting harm on others," and "Ghost is a red flag."

Yada yada yada. Anyways.

Simon Riley LOVES cats.

When she first read his personnel file, her eyes immediately took notice of one certain detail, jotted down on a little yellow sticky note, in red penmanship. Price’s handwriting, she believed.  “Enjoys tattoo art & animals.”  SilentDove smiled at that. Simon Riley, 6’4” and with a fearful reputation that always preceded him, possessed a soft spot for animals — cats, she soon learned. He never spoke about it aloud, but there were signs: the small glances toward a stray kitty sunbathing on the sidewalk; his blue eyes softening the moment they caught sight of the kittens at the local petshop, and all the cat videos he pretended were not clogging up his YouTube history.  Yeah, there were countless signs. 

“Saaayyyy….you ever wanna adopt a kitty-cat, Lieutenant?”  “That’s above ya’s pay grade, Reyes.” 

Three months later, Dove tried again.  "A little brown kitten, Ghost, with pink beans on its toes! Imagine that!" She was holed up in the Lieutenant's office, pestering him with pictures of cats she found on Pinterest. "Brown kittens are super duper rare, y'know that, right?" she asked, showing him a cute brown cat with amber-like eyes. "Look, even the nose is brown!" But all she got in response was a stupid grunt; he didn't even look up from the paperwork he was filing out. Stubborn bastard, Dove thought to herself with a sigh. She fell silent for a moment until Simon suddenly spoke up. "I'd like a Norwegian forest cat," is what he muttered, peeking up to look at Dove. His bright, baby-blue eyes met her dark ones, and the Native American could see a certain softness pooling inside them. A smile twitched on her lips as she sat up straighter.  "Yeah?" Simon hummed. "Damn things are beauties. Ever seen one?" He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Wanna get me one once I retire from all this shit. Name him Shiloh, get him a bell and collar." "Shiloh," Dove breathed out, nodding. She liked the name; it sounded nice on her tongue. Shiloh…c’mere, Shiloh! "Didya know that Viking brides were given Norwegian forest kittens as a wedding present?" as her chin came to rest atop her palm.  His gaze dropped to follow the slight movement before flickering back to her face. "Is that so?" His voice dropped a little, suddenly taking on a huskier tone, instantly sending a small flutter of butterflies inside her tummy. Dove swallowed with another nod.  "Mmmm, in honor of Freyja, the goddess of love. According to the mythology, her cart was pulled by cats; Vikings loved cats, and it was a sorta…good luck for brides to have a kitten in her new household." Dove paused before adding, "—when I get married, I'm gonna ask for a kitten as well. No fancy pots, pans, or cutlery. A cat, one that I'm gonna name Ésevone." "Ésevone?" Simon repeated, cocking his head to the side.  "Buffalo in the Northern Cheyenne language."  "Ah. Ésevone," he rasped again, this time with a nod of his own. "Ésevone and Shiloh. Not bad."  A few seconds of (comfortable) silence fell over the two before— "—Y'know, Ghosty, you actually look like a TOTAL cat dad. Like you got the entire "cat dad" aesthetic down to a T." "Shut up, little bird." 

note: just a small snippet as i try to dive back into writing :D

#:D #silentdove r. #call of duty oc #cod oc #dare i call this a blog cleanse?

[themotherofhorses]

GHOST IN “CARTEL PROTECTION” 🕶️ | MODERN WARFARE II

#creaming & screaming #poltergeist

[themotherofhorses]

cass. | abandoned child. | surrogate daughter.

lore summary:

Cass was abandoned around the age of 12-13 and was later found by Charlie while on a supply run. Charlie knew the risks and consequences if she brought Cass back with her but did so anyway!

When she was introduced to both Lucy and Cooper, there were different reactions. Lucy, while cautious about the idea of having a tween/teenage girl in their lives, she opened up to Cass and made her feel comfortable and at home. Cooper was a different story. Cooper and Charlie had a bit of a bickering argument over it, he, too, knew the big risks of having someone like Cass in their lives and he didn't want those risks getting both his girls killed. Charlie explained to him that she's just a kid, there's nowhere else to go.

Sure, it was a typical thing to say but it was the truth. Cooper sighed, not willing to fight with Charlie over it and kept his distance from Cass for a time, she hit too close to home for him because she reminded him of the daughter he once had: Janey.

Overtime, however, Coop does warm up to Cass and eventually, a big father/daughter like bond grows between them, something that both Charlie and Lucy adore.

All three are practically parents to the young girl, her being like a surrogate daughter of sorts to them. It's not something they'd expect to happen but, they love her anyway.

wasteland lovers, fallout tag.

#moot’s ocs <33 #“cooper sighed” shut up no-nose

[themotherofhorses]

hi! i think you've answered this question before when a different anon asked, but i couldn't find the original post, so sorry for the repeat; but how do you recommend non-native people write native characters while being respectful of their tradition and culture? i understand that there is a variety of different indigenous cultures all across america and other parts of the world, but do you have any links or sources that you could recommend to further familiarise with the general gist of respecting boundaries before diving into individual peoples and whatnot? thanks so much for the help, and i'm sorry if i worded any part of this ask; this is a genuine question, and i don't mean any offence!

Hello love!

I’d be happy to provide some help. See below:

Here is my previous post regarding this topic; it has the basics for how to tackle a Native character when you are a non-Native. Feel free to read through it. Additionally, I’ll offer some more personal advice.

Three of my main OCs (SilentDove, Balenyra, and Gene) are Plains Cree, Chippewa, and Okanagan. To narrow it down:

SilentDove and Gene (siblings): Chippewa-Cree & Lipan Apache

Balenyra Red Rivers: Plains Cree & Okanagan.

Now, the Cree and Okanagan people are predominately Indigenous Canadian (aside from the Chippewa-Cree that reside on the Rocky Boy reservation). Given that I do not belong to any of those cultures, I've needed to do extensive research on cultural customs and beliefs. After all, they might do something different that we Diné/Nde do not.

To do such, I've actually taken to surrounding myself with people belonging to these Nations (e.g., on different social media platforms). For instance, here is a post that explains what a Cree bride would've worn in the 1800s; this was posted by someone who is Plains Cree.

Furthermore, here is an excerpt I’ve included in my Notion, an app that I’ve used to build my OCs:

If you wish to conduct your own research, I highly recommend websites, books, journal articles, and other references published by Indigenous people, preferably belonging to the tribe/band you wish to include in your writing.

For example, your character is a Cree person. Are they Plains? Woodlands? Swampy? Moose? If you are writing about an Apache woman, does she belong to the San Carlos tribe? Is she Lipan Apache or Jiscarilla? ? Specify! Too often have non-Natives grouped us underneath the same umbrella — refusing to expand our identity, leaving us as only "Native American/Indigenous."

I'll link a website (here) that also provides wonderful suggestions!

If you need further help, feel free to hop into my DMs! Thank you!

#vic’s asks and replies #indigenous #native american #character writing #writing advice

[themotherofhorses]

….that anon asking for proof of heritage is wild lmao and it would just make you vulnerable to being doxxed, if that’s not what that anon is fishing for in the first place. be careful as fic writers are being doxxed by some toxic writers in some lame discord. i’ve followed u since ur hotd dothraki fic and know ur a fellow indigenous girlie 🫶🏽 just from how u write and share online. hope you’re well xxx

thank you so much!

i’m def not quiet abt my heritage LMAOO. i just didn���t realize that sharing my personal experiences would summon all the blood quantum goonies in my inbox.

last night, i had two more anons attempt to pressure me into posting “personal documentations” regarding my race/ethnicity. “we want to make sure you’re actually a BIPOC.” how crazy do you have to be to DEMAND someone to post stuff like that? doing such would cause me to reveal my own identity, essentially doxxing myself to the public. i’m not posting anything involving a CIB or ID.

absolutely not.

#vic’s asks and replies #love u anon 🫶🏼

[themotherofhorses]

bye bye ovaries.

Diana and her Big Dada HC

(moodboard made by me)

Ghost in the Fallout AU with baby Diana. The stress about to stay away for weeks, the return at home where Laswell and her wife takes care of her after the death of his wife after the birth(its the wasteland unfortunately).

She is the only thing good in that world of death and pain, I imagine her first word “Dada”. Because she loves her big Dada so much.

When she says the first word he was returned after a request to assassinate some Gunners in a nearby factory, all covered in blood and sand, him tired, and sees his daughter of one year who tries to walk helped by Kate's wife and who keeps saying "Dada”

His eyes full of tears, the constant feeling of guilt in having to raise his little tangerine in such a world that are dissipated in that sweet "Dada" while he promised himself "to protect you little tangerine from this disgusting world”

#moots’ ocs <33 #love u poltergeist #EDIT: mf was married to another woman #fuck u poltergeist

[themotherofhorses]

Can we have proof of your heritage??? I'm just tired of people pretending to be indigenous or poc on here and it turns out to be a white girl doxxing us all.

i point with my nose AND lips and im not allowed to look at the eclipse.

#vic’s asks and replies #imagine how tired WE are

[themotherofhorses]

Hi.

Thank you, my sweetling, @themotherofblood.

The only comment I’ll like to add to this is—as an Indigenous woman—it was BEYOND uncomfortable and disappointing to hear Bel plan a Pocahontas!reader x Daemon fanfic, only to read her attempt to deflect by masking it as a “foreign princess” idea.

(Or something along the lines, I truly wish I had screenshotted the post for future keeping).

If you do not know, our beloved Matoaka is considered the first MMIW victim, and our first stolen sister. She was so incredibly young when she was ripped away from her family, tribe, and culture; the Disney “adaptation” further pushed the narrative that her story was one of forbidden “romance.”

If you wish to read more, here is a link:

Other than that, I send healing to the people in need of it. Thank you.

EDIT: I have spoken out on my personal experience in this post (here). Feel free to read it.

THE RACISM CHAPTER

My name is being brought up a lot so let me make this clear for the last time.

Was I a victim for racism at the hands of the individuals involved in all this drama, yes? Was I a part of the discord that allowed such conversations to take place, yes.

I will speak for both my wife @themotherofhorses and I.

What bugged us the most was how much mayhem got caused every time someone even sneezed the word plagiarism but did nothing to stop the one actively making BIPOC creators uncomfortable. Such as Bel wanting to write a Pocahontas x Daemon fic.

I do have a bone to pick when mods of that discord would mute people for maybe being a slight nuisance. I am guilty of that. But watched as people openly admitted to harassing members of that same discord.

Em and Ange should be allowed the room to learn and grow from this, but we as a community too need to realize that most of this can be handled privately.

And to any future discord mods, please put your foot down when you are trying to curate a space for writers to come together.

[themotherofhorses]

Hey,

I was wondering if you were going to finish any of your aemond fics??? No rush or hate just curious :)

Hello, sweetheart! I’m so terribly sorry for being super duper late at answering this question. I’ve been completely AWOL for months; y’all deserve an explanation why.

Explanation below the cut (mentions of an ED (one word), racism, and death threats):

To answer your question — I would LOVE to finish my Aemond fanfics; however, it probably won’t happen until much later (maybe when S2 is released).

The reason? Around late 2023, I decided to take a step away from the HOTD fandom. The reasons were pretty mundane, if I’m honest:

— I became gradually disinterested in the show.

— Academics took over my priorities.

— My attention shifted to different topics; for example, the Call of Duty franchise and personal OCs of mine.

However. HOWEVER, in wake of certain (and VERY tragic) circumstances, I would also like to share my personal experiences with the racism plaguing the community.

As you all know, I’m a mixed Indigenous and Hispanic woman; this isn’t a surprise. I’m very proud of my heritage. But, around April 2023, I began receiving an incredible amount of racially-motivated hate. Over the span of months, anonymous slurs clogged up my inbox (e.g., “squaw,” “reservation indian,” “beaner,” and “mojado”) while other anons sent me a slew of death threats and other ill-mannered comments, especially involving my anorexia.

In fact—around September of 2023–I was actually told to “unalive myself” because my OC’s (Balenyra Red Rivers) main nickname (baby bal) was similar to another fandom writer’s nickname. Now, allow me to explain:

the reasoning for the nickname “baby bal” is because my Bal’s characterization included being introverted and sweet. Think of her like Fluttershy from MLP (perhaps a random comparison but it’s the truth! Ask @chainsawsangel. She’s like Bal’s other mother).

I also call my Bal “babybal cheese,” even though she’s lactose intolerant like me.

Anyways. That’s off topic. Receiving racist messages like that truly dampens a person’s mood. What is the point of writing if every time you open this app, you’re met face-to-face with such racism?

Because of such, I decided to go on a HOTD-hiatus, and focus my energy on other things.

BUT. BUUUTTTTTT:

As long as the river flows and the grass grows, I will have deep love for my fanfics, as well as all my beloved mutuals.

Truth be told, the HOTD fandom does possess an exceptional amount of talented and amazing writers, many of whom I’ve been blessed to meet. While the fandom isn’t calling my name back right now, I hope to return in the future, to finish all my work.

Ahé'hee to everyone who had supported me in this journey, in both the HOTD and CoD worlds! 🫶🏼

EDIT: I accidentally got a date wrong in the post. Fixed it. It was meant to say ”2023” — I said “2024”.

#vic talks #ask #hotd fandom #house of the dragon fandom #hotd fandom drama #anti fandom #somewhat #idk how to tag this #like racism??😭

[themotherofhorses]

paloma: first meeting

— simon "ghost" riley x oc!silentdove reyes.

summary: he's not annoyed, per se, but ghost is just not really in the mood to chit-chat with the american airman scurrying around the base. at best, he tolerates them.

(or the first exchange between ghost and his montanan woman.)

warnings: none, aside from explicit language.

note: okay, so despite this being an obvious OC-insert series, i invite anyone and everyone to read it :D this is actually my first time tackling an OC-insert fanfic (as well as writing ghost) so im still trying to get the rhythm of things.

dividers by: @saradika

paloma (masterlist) | main masterlist

[2021] 

Simon Riley won’t ever admit it — never aloud, anyway — but every time he steps foot on American soil, he feels more akin to a wolf draped in sheep’s clothing. 

In his mind, he sticks out like a sore thumb. He is not a hero, really; unlike the lot teetering around the military base he is currently stationed at for the next five or so weeks, he is less flesh and blood, and more a phantom. Or something along those lines. Actually, that could explain why there is such little traffic aimed his way. But he doesn’t particularly care. His schedule lacks the room to voice any complaints. 

Right now, his main concern is doing his job, and doing it right. 

Two weeks back, Price had him fishing out his passport tucked away inside his bedside table. “Fancy a two month getaway to the States?” Great Falls, Montana, to be exact. High west, nearing the border of Canada, and surrounded by land he’s only ever seen in those silly ass spaghetti western movies. 

The view is nice, he’ll admit. Beautiful, even. Exhilarating. He now understands why they refer to Montana as “Big Sky Country.” 

Malmstrom is much smaller than he imagined, and homier too. The Air Force base is nestled within the city’s east side, offering its own museum and park. He’s quite grateful for the latter; the trails allow for his nighttime walks when the nightmares prove too shitty to sleep. 

Great Falls is pretty as well. Price would like it, maybe Garrick too. He knows the two are big on history, and almost every inch of the city is drenched with some memory belonging to the old frontier days. 

Upon arriving, the yanks provided him with his own private office, housed in the back of the 341st logistics readiness squadron. It’s nothin’ fancy, really, just a wee room furnished with a dark mahogany desk, two windows, a steel cabinet, the Montana flag to his left, and the American to his right. 

Again, he’s not one to complain. Something’s something. 

Earlier, one of the higher-up airmen, a Staff Sergeant Benson (he believes is the name), had handed him a folder jam-packed with a shit ton of mission statements — logistics, strategic planning, reports of previous global concerns, and reviews of the base’s Minuteman III intercontinental ballistic missile. All the documents are dated in a time range varying between two months ago to 0800 this morning. 

In the back of his mind, he can already hear Price chuckling.

“Have fun, Simon.”

Bloody bastard. 

So now, Ghost sits hunched over the desk, feeling a little too damn big for it. All the paperwork is strewn about messily around him, with sticky notes, a pen, and some other random shit of his. No one has yet to visit him; until that happens, he feels little need to remain organized. 

His boot taps against the floor. “—Initial efforts to clean polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) from launch facilities at Malmstrom AFB are ongoing but seeing success…” Ghost reads under his breath. PCBs? That’s nice to hear.

“...after PCBs were detected on surfaces in launch facilities at all three of the command’s missile wings.” 

PCBs. Polychlorinated biphenyls — man-made and highly toxic, consisting of carbon, hydrogen, and chlorine atoms. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he flips onto the next page.

“We know they’re present on what appears to be otherwise pristine surfaces, due to the survey—” 

—a sudden knock interrupts his reading. 

With a curse on his tongue, Ghost sets down the report. He quicks a sneaking glance at his watch. 1342 hours. He’s due in a meeting at 1700. 

“Come in.” His voice sounds low and raspy, the two words sounding more like a growl than a greeting. He’s not annoyed, per se, but Ghost is just not really in the mood to chit-chat with the American airmen scurrying around the base. At best, he tolerates them.

(In his mind, they’re all little Graves, ready to stir up a headache.) 

The door slowly cracks open.

“Lieutenant Riley?” A female voice calls out — soft and cautious; Ghost’s chin drops against his knuckles. “Apologies for the disruption, sir, but I have some additional paperwork I need to drop off with you, at the request of my superior.” He grunts, and the airman then steps into his office, quickly shutting the door behind her before meeting his eyes. 

It is entirely unlike him, Ghost knows, but his brain almost short-circuits right then and there. Two dark brown eyes, framed by thick lashes, peering up at him. Shit. He’d always thought brown was such a pretty eye color on a woman, but hers stretched further across common compliments. 

Both of  ‘em — they held no animosity, no uneasiness or fear, nothing. 

That, itself, is quite fucking bizarre. He’s not used to that.

Ghost is .... well, Ghost. He knows the mask he is always donning on his face isn't exactly a sign of welcomeness. Just his mere presence is enough to startle the living shit out of rookies, baby recruits, wide-eyed sergeants, and the like. There is something inherently unnerving when you are unable to get a good reading of the person you're standing across from.

She’s brave, he thinks. Or merely oblivious to who he is. 

“Here you go, sir,” the airman says while placing the packet of new documents down on his desk. Her lips are shaped prettily, plump and shining with a fresh layer of gloss, and across her nose is a splatter of faint freckles. Under a different circumstance, maybe he would’ve taken the time to try and count them all.

Ghost swallows hard, incapable (for what feels like the first time in his life) of mustering up an appropriate reply. “Ah, thank you, ma’am.” 

The airman's brow lifts.

“Reyes,” she then corrects him with a kind smile, gesturing to the name badge sitting above her right chest pocket. Sure enough, in bold military lettering, reads Reyes. “My name is Senior Airman SilentDove Reyes. I am actually a cryptologic linguist analyst here on base; but sometimes I run errands for others, when not needed for a translation, of course.”

There is a slight chirp in her voice that Ghost picks up, along with the way she casually rocks back and forth on her feet. She seems awfully young, no older than 22, possibly 23, but even that's cutting it; a kid, compared to him. Maybe 5'7, with dark hair pulled back into two tight braids that fall at her belted waistline.

A stark contrast compared to him.

He's oddly curious now — about her age and first name and those long braids and why she stands before him, calm, collected, and sure — but he knows damn well this is not the time nor place for any questions. Both of them are on the clock, and it is likely she’ll need to report back to her supervisor soon. 

He offers her a curt nod. “Well, thank you again, Reyes,” he states, keeping his voice flat. 

“You are welcome, sir.” She turns to leave, but when her hand latches onto the doorknob, Reyes glances over her shoulder at him, “—oh, and Lieutenant? If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

–

The successful cleaning came after a bioenvironmental team at Malmstrom AFB …. Malmstrom AFB .. consulted with engineers and ….. and medical experts on the cleaning …. cleaning processes and– 

–and agents most likely to effectively remove the chemicals…. 

He knows his mind is wandering off, in desperate search of that pretty senior airman from fifteen minutes ago. “Bloody fucking hell,” Ghost grumbles, leaning back in his chair. His head lolls back as he blinks upward, studying the ceiling overhead. The texture is popcorn, a creamy color, with a simple fan jutting down. One light bulb, probably a recent replacement. 

Fuck. He doesn’t need this shit. Not one bit. 

Five more weeks and he’ll be gone from here. 

Ghost rechecks his watch, feeling a bit peeved at the time. 1411. He has several more hours until he can leave all this work shit behind for the evening, and maybe catch a short walk before hunkering down for the night. He doesn’t like sitting down for too long; it causes him to become restless. Agitated. Overthinking.

He doesn’t want distractions. He doesn’t need ‘em. Distractions ruin work ethic; clouding up the mind while fucking up all sense of responsibility. Price will have his ass if he – somehow – becomes compromised. And he'll never hear the end of it from Johnny. 

Settling back into the paperwork, he decides that he won’t allow himself another second thinking about all that – the American airman and her pretty brown eyes and high cheekbones and first name. 

Something tells him that’s easier said than done. 

#reblogging #simon riley x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #i promise fresh stuff will be out SOON pinky promise

[themotherofhorses]

paloma

— simon “ghost” riley x fem!oc!silentdove reyes

synopsis:

"You said it again, L.T." “Said what?” “That word — Turtle Island. What does it mean?” Ghost chuckles, low and raspy and entirely himself. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Or the 141 is curious as all hell as to why their lieutenant refers to the United States as “Turtle Island.” 

"Turtle Island — " Gaz slowly reads aloud, dark eyebrows furrowing together. " — Indigenous North American folklore." "Now why the everloving fuck would a Brit like Simon Riley use a Native American term?"

CONTENT:

playlists (via spotify)

— Simon Riley

— SilentDove Reyes

oc info

— click here to meet SilentDove

— silentdove r. tag

— silentdove & simon moodboard, gifted by the wonderful @cloudofbutterflies92

MAIN SERIES:

— first meeting

HCS:

— hat and boot

— simon riley LOVES cats

#reblog #call of duty fanfiction

[themotherofhorses]

Lakota Nation vs. United States (Jesse Short Bull & Laura Tomaselli, 2022)

#indigenous

[themotherofhorses]

being gay & living in an apocalyptic society. all i can say is:

good luck charlie !

wasteland lovers: charlie beckett headcanons, fallout (tv).

summary: just some headcanons about my fallout oc, charlie beckett! warnings: 18+, minors dni. general headcanons, mentions of scars. death. pretty tame overall, just standard character headcanons. notes: been wanting to make some charlie headcanons and now I have, hope y'all enjoy! (p.s. if you'd like to know more about her lore full on, check this link.) wasteland lovers, fallout tag.

Charlie is 25 years of age and is also pansexual!

Charlie's around 5'7, 5'8.

She has light freckles across her shoulders, mostly gets them from the scorching sun but, they're there.

if you were to ask if she's a dog or cat person, she'd say both BUT does prefer dogs the most.

not only does she collect trinkets for the shop, but she's always collected scraps and trinkets at a young age, it's what kept her busy if she wasn't learning how to use a gun properly or helping out with other tasks.

Charlie can get frustrated easily, is strong, not afraid to be empathetic BUT also isn't afraid to get bloody, it's the wastelands after all.

She also adapts quickly to her surroundings and her morality is around 50/50.

Charlie has a scar located close to her chest, she had got it during her little runaway journey from the vault.

Shit is a word she uses most often.

Charlie has a habit of picking at her fingers a lot, mostly due to either being stressed or anxious.

Also has a another habit of rubbing behind her neck if, again, she's stressed completely.

If she needs to something to do while passing the time, she's either taking a swim to clear her head or learning new meals to cook on her own.

Introvert or Extrovert? She's mostly an extrovert!

She's mostly a good sleeper but knowing that she didn't know her parents for too long keeps her awake hence why she's usually taking a nap during some random hour of the day.

Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N' Roses or These Boots Are Made for Walkin' by Nancy Sinatra would be her go-to songs.

Charlie does prefer the company of others, she doesn't wish to be alone all the time just as long as it's with the right people.

Her strongest sense is her sight, she can adapt with the world quicker through sight, helps with reading people she may not be familiar with, etc.

One thing she hopes for in the future is for the world to just let her rest-easy, maybe settle down somewhere with the people she loves.

#moots’ ocs <33 #unlike being gay: being attracted to chicken coop is a choice #a good choice or a bad choice? who nose

[themotherofhorses]

"Simon Riley is toxic," "Simon Riley is a cold and distant man that enjoys inflicting harm on others," and "Ghost is a red flag."

Yada yada yada. Anyways.

Simon Riley LOVES cats.

When she first read his personnel file, her eyes immediately took notice of one certain detail, jotted down on a little yellow sticky note, in red penmanship. Price’s handwriting, she believed.  “Enjoys tattoo art & animals.”  SilentDove smiled at that. Simon Riley, 6’4” and with a fearful reputation that always preceded him, possessed a soft spot for animals — cats, she soon learned. He never spoke about it aloud, but there were signs: the small glances toward a stray kitty sunbathing on the sidewalk; his blue eyes softening the moment they caught sight of the kittens at the local petshop, and all the cat videos he pretended were not clogging up his YouTube history.  Yeah, there were countless signs. 

“Saaayyyy….you ever wanna adopt a kitty-cat, Lieutenant?”  “That’s above ya’s pay grade, Reyes.” 

Three months later, Dove tried again.  "A little brown kitten, Ghost, with pink beans on its toes! Imagine that!" She was holed up in the Lieutenant's office, pestering him with pictures of cats she found on Pinterest. "Brown kittens are super duper rare, y'know that, right?" she asked, showing him a cute brown cat with amber-like eyes. "Look, even the nose is brown!" But all she got in response was a stupid grunt; he didn't even look up from the paperwork he was filing out. Stubborn bastard, Dove thought to herself with a sigh. She fell silent for a moment until Simon suddenly spoke up. "I'd like a Norwegian forest cat," is what he muttered, peeking up to look at Dove. His bright, baby-blue eyes met her dark ones, and the Native American could see a certain softness pooling inside them. A smile twitched on her lips as she sat up straighter.  "Yeah?" Simon hummed. "Damn things are beauties. Ever seen one?" He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Wanna get me one once I retire from all this shit. Name him Shiloh, get him a bell and collar." "Shiloh," Dove breathed out, nodding. She liked the name; it sounded nice on her tongue. Shiloh…c’mere, Shiloh! "Didya know that Viking brides were given Norwegian forest kittens as a wedding present?" as her chin came to rest atop her palm.  His gaze dropped to follow the slight movement before flickering back to her face. "Is that so?" His voice dropped a little, suddenly taking on a huskier tone, instantly sending a small flutter of butterflies inside her tummy. Dove swallowed with another nod.  "Mmmm, in honor of Freyja, the goddess of love. According to the mythology, her cart was pulled by cats; Vikings loved cats, and it was a sorta…good luck for brides to have a kitten in her new household." Dove paused before adding, "—when I get married, I'm gonna ask for a kitten as well. No fancy pots, pans, or cutlery. A cat, one that I'm gonna name Ésevone." "Ésevone?" Simon repeated, cocking his head to the side.  "Buffalo in the Northern Cheyenne language."  "Ah. Ésevone," he rasped again, this time with a nod of his own. "Ésevone and Shiloh. Not bad."  A few seconds of (comfortable) silence fell over the two before— "—Y'know, Ghosty, you actually look like a TOTAL cat dad. Like you got the entire "cat dad" aesthetic down to a T." "Shut up, little bird." 

note: just a small snippet as i try to dive back into writing :D

#vic writes 🧸 #(somewhat) #paloma series #call of duty #cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #cod mw2 ghost #ghost cod #simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #ghost fanfiction #simon riley x oc #ghost x oc #call of duty drabble #cod oc #cod original character

[themotherofhorses]

it’s okay to murder people but it’s not okay to disrespect your wife btw

#silentdove n’ simon #simp