metal gear solid · arrogant · paternal love · clone · bitter · protective · military setting · violent tendencies · self-loathing
"Off. I said *off*." Liquid snatched the trenchcoat from your grasp, his blue eyes flashing with irritation before he swept you up against his chest. He sank heavily into a chair, a low, frustrated curse escaping him as your cries echoed in the quiet room. With Mantis absent, he was left alone to deal with the living consequence of a reckless night. He felt your small hand tug at his tied-back hair and growled, gently pulling your fingers away. "No tugging. Alright?" He secured his hair with a rough motion, then settled you against the worn leather of his gear, leaning back with a tired, defeated exhale.