#bourbonwrites

[ghostybourbon]

I DREAMT ABOUT THIS AND CAN’T GET IT OUT OF MY MIND SO I’M GONNA WRITE IT OUT-

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Soap: Oi! Get down from there!

Raven (my OC): No

Gaz: Raven, get down from there before Price sees you.

Raven: *stares at him with pigeon eyes*

Gaz: What the actual fuck-

Soap: When ta fuck did she learn how to do that?

Ghost who suddenly appeared out of nowhere: From me.

Gaz and Soap looks at Ghost and is met with the sight of him doing the pigeon eyes, all while wearing his skull mask.

[ghostybourbon]

Something Else

Ch.1 || Split

Pairing: TF141 x F!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence(?), Swearing, Mention of a mental health condition (DID) If you’re not okay with it you can avoid this chapter.

Other note: I’m sorry for any inaccuracies that you might notice, I will gladly work on it if you point it out^^ Please be kind tho ;-;

A/N: Sorry it got delayed but it’s here! I hope you enjoy it~

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In the covert world of the British SAS, where elite operatives are honed through rigorous challenges, there emerges an extraordinary figure known only in hushed whispers and concealed records. She is a woman of exceptional fortitude, achieving the unprecedented feat of becoming the youngest to join the SAS. In her late twenties, she wields unmatched skills that have earned her the reverence of seasoned veterans and the respect of her peers.

Yet, beneath her unmatched capabilities lies a hidden truth that adds an intricate layer to her enigmatic persona - she battles with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) earning the code name ‘Split’ but within her psyche reside distinct identities, each manifesting its own specialized talents, memories, and perceptions. Amidst the turmoil of her mind, an astonishing tapestry of skills converges, making her an enigma and an indomitable force.

As a sniper, she possesses a profound connection with her rifle, threading needles with bullets to strike targets from unimaginable distances. Her mastery of close-quarters combat transforms her into a lethal symphony of precision and efficacy, making her an unrivaled CQB specialist capable of altering the course of the most treacherous encounters. Embracing solitude, she becomes one with the silence, navigating perilous terrains that few dare to tread. Her uncanny ability to infiltrate enemy strongholds and extract critical intelligence- with almost little to no trace has become a legend whispered among the clandestine circles.

In the face of adversity, she seamlessly shifts between identities, employing the intricacies of her mind as both a shield and a weapon. Her dance between personas bewilders adversaries and outwits danger. A symphony of tactical brilliance unfurls, leaving behind no trace of her presence.

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“I don’t need another soldier joining us-“

“Yes, you do, Price. You don’t admit it but you’re breaking-“

“I’m not- and so are they.”

Laswell looks at Price, sadness and frustration evident in her eyes as she scans his face; What a stubborn man, she thinks to herself.

"What if I were to inform you that Split has given their affirmative commitment to join the Task Force and is standing by for your approval, hm?" Laswell states with precision and a sense of determination. With a subtle sip of her coffee, she swiftly extracts a sleek folder from her bag and crisply slides it across the table to Price.

Price's eyes widen in disbelief as he gazes at the folder resting in front of him. The weight of the revelation sinks in, and he takes a moment to process the gravity of the situation. His mind races with the implications of having Split on board, a valuable addition to the Task Force.

Finally, Price looks up, meeting Laswell's unwavering gaze. "How did you get ahold of them?" he asks, his voice tinged with a mix of astonishment and excitement. The possibilities of this collaboration are both daunting and enticing, and he can feel the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders.

"I've successfully tracked down Split through my contacts," Laswell asserts with a determined tone, leaning in closer to Price. "Discreet communication has been established."

Price listens as he goes through the folder, taking note of how little information it contains, apart from the achievements and past missions. “(Y/N) Katastrof, looks like we got another ghost joining the team.” He mutters under his breath. Price takes a deep breath, his eagerness palpable in the air as he gazes at the folder in front of him. "I've heard the whispers about Split," he admits, his voice low and contemplative. "I’ve been trying to track ‘em down but despite my efforts, I've never had the chance to get ahold of them."

Laswell nods, understanding Price's desire to have Split on their team. "I know you've been eager to make this happen," she says, her tone supportive. "And now that we have this opportunity, we need to tread carefully."

Price looks up, determination shining in his eyes. "We can't let this chance slip away, if they're willing to join us, then bloody hell let’s make it happen."

Laswell smiles, seeing Price's commitment to the mission and the potential of this collaboration. "I share your enthusiasm," she says. "We'll move forward cautiously, ensuring that everything is in place before we bring them on board."

Price nods, feeling a mix of excitement and responsibility. "I'll have the team prepare for the integration," he says. "We need to make sure everyone is on board and understands the significance of this addition."

Laswell stands, ready to support Price in this critical decision. "I'll handle the communication with Split," she states. "We'll verify their commitment and ensure that their skills align with our objectives."

As they finalize their plan, Price and Laswell know that they're on the verge of a significant moment for the Task Force. Their shared determination and strategic approach give them the confidence that, with Split's inclusion, they can take their missions to new heights. Together, they'll navigate the challenges ahead, and with the right balance of caution and enthusiasm, they're ready to welcome Split into the ranks of the Task Force.

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“Fuckin’ minx! I’ll blow your brains out!”

“Stop whining, will ya?” Was the last thing that man heard before getting his neck snapped. Dusting her gloves off, she stares at the dead body in front of her, smirking under her balaclava. “Poor lad, would’ve gotten a less painful passing if he cooperated.” She mumbles to herself as she checks her gear for any missing items.

“Lieutenant, help” A weak voice calls out, causing her to snap out of the state she was in, pausing her movements to listen again. A cough echoes throughout the room she’s in, her feet leading her to the source of it until her eyes settled on a soldier, bleeding out on the floor. Eyes widening, her body moves, quickly grabbing a tourniquet from her medical kit.

“Fuck did you got yourself into, Rook?” She says to the man; he’s too young, she thinks to herself as she wraps the band around his leg, pausing to look at him “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch but I need you to take it for me, yeah? I know you can take more than this” She waits for his approval before tightening the band, the soldier letting out a muffled groan.

“Hurts more than your kicks, ma’am, but I’ll take your hits over this any time of the fucking day” Rook says, chuckling as he leans back on the wall. “Got everything we need?” He asks, trying to catch his breath.

“Of course we do, sarge.” She looks up at him, giving a wink before going back to disinfecting his wound. “Call for exfil while I do this” She says quietly as she starts to patch him up. Rook following what she says as he contacts the rest of their squadron.

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“Soap, don’t put too much weight on it or else you’re gonna fall”

“WHERE’M A MEANT TAEPUT MA WEIGHT? WHERE?! AH CANNAE PUT MA WEIGHT OON TH’ ROOF IS DEAD THIN!”

Gaz laughs as he watches Soap try to get his shoe from the roof, Ghost watching in amusement while he cleans his knives. The scotsman speaking almost too fast for the both of them to understand which only caused Gaz to laugh even harder. Unbeknownst to them, their Captain stepping out for a smoke, gruff as ever made his presence known by coughing.

“Captain” Ghost turns around and nods at him as Soap panics and slips off of the roof, a yelp followed by a grunt as he hit the floor; Gaz trying his best to stop himself from laughing before greeting his captain.

“Tomorrow at 0900 hours, we’ll be having a briefing along with Laswell.” He says nodding back at the men before lighting up his cigar, confused as to why they’re still looking at him. “Go on, at ease” He takes a drag on his cigar and looking off to think.

“And Soap, get off the floor.”

“Solid, Cap”

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Ch. 2 || Introductions

[ghostybourbon]

Something Else

Ch.2 || Introductions

Pairing: TF141 × F!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Canon-typical violence(?), Swearing, Mention of a mental health condition (DID) If you're not okay with it you can avoid this chapter.

Other note: It's a pretty lengthy chapter (￣▽￣*)ゞ and Hi! Bourbon’s back! I hope you guys like this <3

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“Split”

“Laswell, we meet again.” Split greets her with a handshake, fresh off from the field. Swiftly taking off some of her gear before sitting in front of Laswell’s desk. She looks around in the office, obviously not owned by the woman in front of her. "You really chose Colonel König's office just so you can speak to me?" She says with a chuckle, before glaring at Laswell.

“Care to take off the mask? and the colonel was more than happy to let me borrow his office for a few minutes.” Laswell starts, taking a folder from a drawer and setting it in front of her, waiting for the soldier to settle her stuff; She scans her movements, taking note of the way she plays with her gloves, how neatly her gear is placed away.

“You know I don’t do that. Called me in for the captain’s approval?” Split asked right away, to avoid further bugging from Laswell. "Indeed," Laswell replies, her tone even as she hands the folder to Split. "The captain has been keen on having you join the Task Force for a while now." Split's gloved fingers tap on the folder in front of her, the atmosphere charged with a mix of tension and intrigue. "And why the sudden change of heart from him?" she questions, her voice steady but filled with curiosity.

Laswell's gaze remains fixed on Split, assessing every detail as she speaks. "He's seen your work, your efficiency. He believes your skills could be a valuable asset to the team." Split chuckles, a hint of amusement hidden behind her mask. "Is that so? And what do you believe, Laswell?"

Laswell leans forward slightly, her eyes locked onto Split's concealed face. "I believe that actions speak louder than reputation," she states calmly. "Given your abilities, you've got a lot of people trying to track you down."

Split's posture remains composed, her demeanor unreadable. "You've done your homework," she acknowledges, a note of approval in her voice. "But you must know, I have my conditions."

Laswell nods, her expression unwavering. "We're open to negotiation, as long as your conditions align with the objectives of the Task Force."

Split's gaze narrows behind her mask, and for a moment, the air is thick with unspoken tension. "I have my reasons for being elusive, for maintaining my anonymity," she says slowly. "I won't compromise that. Not again."

Laswell's response is swift, her voice firm. "We understand the importance of discretion. We can work within those boundaries."

The two women lock eyes, a silent exchange of determination and calculation. Both aware that this meeting is a pivotal moment for the Task Force and the potential alliance they're considering. As Split's gloved hand finally opens the folder, Laswell can feel the weight of their conversation settling over them, setting the course for what comes next.

—————————————————————————— "Settle down. Laswell will be here in a bit." "Aye, sir."

"I think we've got a new member joining" Gaz whispers next to Soap, who's smirking as he watches their captain read a file. "How can ya tell?" Soap whispers back, taking a glance at Gaz before going back to watching Price.

"They never do a briefing in here unless it's a new member." Gaz says, amusement evident in his voice, Soap's eyes widens as he realizes that Gaz may be right. As he was about to speak, Ghost suddenly put a hand on his shoulder, a way of telling them to not pry on it. They both shut up after sharing a glance with each other.

A few minutes passed before Laswell steps inside the office. Price stands at the head of the briefing room, his gaze serious and his demeanor commanding. "Listen up, everyone," he begins, his voice carrying the weight of the information he's about to share. "We've been given a unique opportunity. A skilled operative, known as 'Split,' has expressed interest in joining our ranks."

Laswell stands beside Price, her expression focused as she continues, "But this isn't just any operative, she's a First Lieutenant; she battles with Dissociative Identity Disorder, and her multiple personas possess distinct skill sets. She's a sniper, close-quarters combat specialist, and an infiltration expert, all rolled into one."

The room is filled with hushed murmurs as the members of the 141 exchange glances, the weight of Split's reputation sinking in.

Price raises his hand, and the room falls silent. "She's not just highly skilled; she's also incredibly dangerous. Her ability to shift personas makes her unpredictable."

Laswell's voice remains steady as she elaborates, "But she's not without her challenges. Her struggle with DID is ongoing, and she's maintained her anonymity for a reason. We respect her need for discretion."

Price steps forward, his gaze sweeping over the room. "Our enemies are after her for a reason. They know the threat she poses. And that's exactly why we want her on our side."

Laswell continues, her tone unwavering. "Split's capabilities can bolster our team's effectiveness. We'll work with her to ensure a seamless integration that respects her boundaries while further harnessing her skills."

The room is tense with anticipation as Price and Laswell lay out the gravity of the situation. Split's reputation as a formidable figure within covert operations is evident, as is the potential she holds for the 141.

"We're moving forward cautiously," Price concludes, his voice firm. "But if we can gain her trust and make this collaboration work, we could have an edge like never before. Questions?"

As the briefing room fills with questions, Price and Laswell brace for the discussions and decisions that lie ahead. The 141's future could be forever changed by this enigmatic operative, and everyone present knows they're standing at the crossroads of a pivotal moment in their mission.

Price raises his hand once more, quelling the rising discussions in the room. "I understand that this is a lot to take in," he says calmly, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "But remember, we're a team. We've faced challenges before, and this is just another test of our ability to adapt."

Laswell steps forward, her presence commanding attention. "We're not taking this decision lightly. Split's inclusion will be a calculated risk, but the rewards could be monumental."

Ghost raises his hand, seeking clarification. "How do we know she won't turn against us? What's stopping her from using her skills against the 141?" His voiced somehow laced with venom.

Price responds with conviction, "We'll have strict protocols in place. Trust needs to be earned, and she'll undergo rigorous evaluation."

Laswell adds, "Remember, Split is reaching out to us. She's interested in joining our mission. We believe she sees the value in working alongside us."

Another operative speaks up, concern evident in their voice. "But what about her DID? How can we be sure she won't be a liability in the field?"

Price nods, addressing the valid concern. "We'll be working closely with her to understand her condition better. She's managed it effectively in the past, and we'll provide the necessary support."

Laswell's gaze sweeps over the room, her determination unwavering. "This mission isn't just about adding a skilled operative. It's about embracing change, learning from each other, and becoming a stronger, more adaptable team."

Price concludes, "We've all seen the battlefield, faced the unknown. It's what we do best. Let's proceed cautiously but with an open mind. We've been handed an opportunity, and it's up to us to make it count."

As the room quiets down, the operatives exchange glances. The weight of the decision before them is clear, but so is the determination in their eyes. The potential collaboration with Split adds a layer of complexity to their already challenging missions, but they know that the 141's ability to evolve and thrive amidst adversity is what sets them apart.

"Now all of you, will address her as Lieutenant Katastrof until she tells ya what you should call her, unless you lads have deathwishes." Price says with that iconic smirk as he ends their briefing.

With their eyes set on the challenges ahead, the 141 members prepare to embark on their next mission, aware that this alliance with Split could change the course of their operations in ways they hadn't imagined before. ——————————————————————————

A few days after the briefing. The helipad on the Task Force's secure base was a hub of activity as the helo's blades sliced through the air, gradually descending to its designated landing spot. Price stood there, his eyes fixed on the incoming aircraft. Beside him, Soap and Gaz exchanged curious glances, their anticipation palpable.

As the helo landed smoothly, the dust settled to reveal a figure in black emerging from the aircraft. Split's gear was sleek, all in black, designed for quiet movement and agility. The balaclava she wore had painted red streaks that seemed to flow from the eye sockets, creating an eerie yet captivating effect as if she was crying blood.

Price stepped forward to greet her, and as she turned toward the core members of the 141, the tension in the air was palpable. Soap and Gaz exchanged a quick, bewildered look, both feeling a mixture of curiosity and intimidation. Beside them, Ghost's expression remained inscrutable, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he observed Split.

Price extended his hand for a handshake, his tone welcoming. "Lieutenant Katastrof, welcome to the Task Force."

"Captain," she responded, her voice cool and composed. She shook his hand firmly before turning her attention to Soap and Gaz. Her gaze swept over them, her eyes hidden behind her balaclava. "Soap, Gaz," she acknowledged, the tension momentarily easing.

Soap chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess we're getting another copy of our L.T," he joked, a hint of unease in his tone.

Gaz smirked, playing along. "Right, because one wasn't enough."

Split's lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement visible under her balaclava. The atmosphere seemed to relax a bit, the ice broken by the lighthearted exchange.

Ghost, however, stood a bit apart from the group, his gaze focused on Split. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, something familiar about her. It was as if a distant memory was trying to resurface.

Price's voice broke the momentary silence. "Let me introduce you to Ghost, another Lieutenant, you two will most likely work with each other for the next few months." he said, gesturing toward the silent figure.

Ghost's mask concealed his expression, but there was a sense of intrigue in his stance as Split turned to face him. "Ghost," she greeted, her voice holding a trace of something almost nostalgic.

Ghost's response was barely perceptible, a simple nod as if acknowledging something unspoken between them.

Price glanced between the two, his curiosity piqued by the exchange. "We've got a lot to discuss, but first, let's get you settled in," he said, leading the way toward the base.

As they walked, the members of the Task Force exchanged glances, the initial intimidation slowly morphing into a mix of intrigue and cautious anticipation. Split's presence had injected a new energy into their ranks, and as they moved forward, they knew that the missions ahead would be unlike anything they had faced before.

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Ch.3 || Evaluation

A/N:

Hey there! Bourbon here! I'm sorry for the inaccuracies that you may have noticed ;-; but anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Any types of support are very much appreciated and thank you so much for supporting me! Bourbon out.

Stay frosty~

[ghostybourbon]

Something Else

Ch. 3 || Evaluation

Warnings: MDNI, Canon-typical violence(?), Swearing, Mention of a mental health condition (DID) .

A/N: Hey there! I hope you enjoy this chapter~ Unfortunately, no König interaction on this one, YET. Sorry it took a while <3

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“All settled, Katastrof?”

“Please, call me Split, Cap.”

She answered with a smirk, setting the knives down on a small table before turning to face him. Price wore a faint, amused smile as he regarded her. "Very well, Split," he acknowledged. "We're here to assess your skills today, and I've got a few evaluations lined up."

The marksman evaluation was first on the agenda. Split's cocky persona emerged seamlessly, the one they call "Azrael" , a master of precision and confidence. She walked to the shooting range with swagger in her step, her fingers caressing the stock of her sniper rifle.

Price watched as Split lined up her shot, the scope fixed on a distant target. Her breathing was slow and controlled, her finger squeezing the trigger with unwavering confidence. The gunshot echoed through the range, and the target's bullseye shattered into fragments.

Price couldn't help but smile at her skill. "Excellent shot, Split. Now, let's see how fast you can use that pistol of yours."

Split holstered the sniper rifle and withdrew her sidearm, a compact semi-automatic. Her hands were a blur as she drew and fired, hitting multiple targets in rapid succession. Each shot was dead center, demonstrating her proficiency in close-quarters combat.

Next came the knife-throwing evaluation. Split's hands moved with deadly grace as she hurled her knives with pinpoint accuracy. One after another, they embedded themselves into the wooden target, forming a tight cluster around the bullseye.

Impressed by her marksmanship, Price nodded. "Now, it's time for the hand-to-hand combat evaluation."

Price had arranged for Split to spar with Ghost, and as she approached Ghost, her demeanor shifted instantly. Her icy persona took over, and her presence became intimidating, like a frigid winter storm.

Ghost squared off against Split, his guard up. They circled each other, the room's tension palpable. Split moved with calculated precision, her movements fluid and methodical. She blocked Ghost's strikes effortlessly, countering with swift and precise blows. It was a dance of combat, each movement purposeful and lethal. As Price observed the intense spar between Split and Ghost, he couldn't help but mutter quietly, "Thana." Soap and Gaz exchanged curious glances, both intrigued and puzzled by Price's muttered word. Soap was the first to speak up, his brow furrowing. "What was that, Cap?"

Price's gaze remained fixed on the spar, but he took a moment to explain. "Thana means 'death' in Greek. It's the name she's given to that persona she's in right now. It's like watching a living embodiment of cold, calculated lethality."

Gaz nodded in understanding, his eyes still locked on the intense battle taking place before them. "I see what you mean, Captain. She's a force to be reckoned with when she taps into that side of herself."

Price watched as Split's Thana persona continued to dominate the sparring session, her movements precise and relentless. He couldn't help but feel a mixture of admiration and wariness for the deadly alter ego within their team.

Price, Soap, and Gaz watched in awe as Split's persona transformed her into a formidable adversary. Ghost, a skilled fighter in his own right, struggled to keep up with her. Despite his best efforts, Split landed a devastating blow to his midsection, sending him crashing to the mat.

Price called an end to the sparring match, and Ghost slowly rose, acknowledging Split's victory with a nod of respect. Her cold demeanor melted away, and she offered him a hand to help him up, reverting to a more neutral persona.

Price, Soap, and Gaz exchanged glances, clearly noticing the change in Split's behavior throughout the evaluations. She was a chameleon, seamlessly shifting between personas, each one a master of their specialty. It was a testament to her unique and invaluable skills, making her an asset to their team. The training area was slowly emptying out after Split's evaluation. Soap and Gaz, already familiar with her personas, approached their Lieutenant as she stood by the sparring mat, adjusting her gear. They exchanged a glance and then addressed her with friendly smiles.

"Hey there, Lieutenant," Soap chimed in with his characteristic Scottish lilt. "Care to introduce us to another one of your personas today?"

Split, now assuming the persona of "Loki" the infiltration expert, turned to them. Her voice maintained its usual tone but took on, what Soap calls the smartass talk, "Of course. Today, you may refer to me as Loki."

Gaz, with a playful grin, joined in the interaction. "Loki, huh? Sounds intriguing. What does Loki bring to the table, Lieutenant?"

Loki, maintaining her sophisticated demeanor, replied, "Loki similar to the Norse god, known for his wit and cunning. He appreciates clever solutions to challenges and enjoys pushing the boundaries of conventional thinking. I'd say this Loki is much more mischievous."

Soap chuckled in response, his Scottish accent carrying warmth. "Well, Lieutenant, it's always a pleasure to have such an esteemed god on our side." Gaz nodded in agreement.

The trio continued to chat, with Soap's jolly and playful personality complementing the sophisticated and articulate tone of Loki. The banter flowed smoothly, with the unique dynamic between the personas adding an intriguing layer to their interactions.

As Soap, Gaz, and Split engaged in conversation, Price, moved closer to Ghost, who had taken a moment to catch his breath, his voice steady and authoritative. "Ghost, you held your ground quite well against our new recruit." Ghost, still masked and enigmatic, responded to Price with a low, grunt. Deep inside, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something strangely familiar about Split, something that tugged at the edges of his memory. As he pondered this, he resolved to keep a watchful eye on their new teammate, determined to uncover the mystery that had sparked his curiosity. "Had to test her mettle, Captain. She's a tough one."

Price nodded, acknowledging the unspoken understanding between the two. "Indeed, Ghost. We've got a unique team here. Keep an eye on her transitions, but I have faith she'll be an asset." Ghost gave a subtle nod of agreement. "Of course, Captain. I'll keep an eye on things." They took one last look at Split, in awe and with respect. Price gives Ghost a pat on his back before walking off, Ghost nods in return before his eyes landed back on Split. "She's something else."

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A/N: Hi there! I hope you liked this <3 Any type of support is very much appreciated~

Stay frosty~

Bourbon, out.

[ghostybourbon]

Something Else

Ch. 4 || Bad days

Warnings: MDNI, Canon-typical violence/gore(?), Mention of a mental health condition (DID) . If it triggers a bad feeling (like reminds you of something that’s a bit hard to take), please stop reading it, the last thing I want is my audience getting triggered by my work.

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It’s been months since Split has joined the task force, and had been working seamlessly with the team. Her unique abilities, honed through years of combat experience and her intricate understanding of her dissociative identity disorder, made her a formidable asset to the team. However, she seemed to have a particular rapport with Price.

In the field, their coordination was uncanny. Split's adaptability and the way she transitioned between her various personas had saved them on more than one occasion. It was as though she and Price shared an unspoken language, a silent understanding of each other's movements and intentions.

Back at the base, they often found themselves in deep discussions about strategy, tactics, and the intricate details of their upcoming missions. Price admired Split's ability to see solutions from unique perspectives, and she respected his unwavering dedication to their cause.

Their camaraderie extended beyond the battlefield, and Price had taken her under his wing, teaching her the finer points of leadership and guiding her to harness her formidable skills.

Their partnership was a testament to the bonds forged in the crucible of covert operations, where trust was built not through words, but through actions, where alliances were forged not through promises, but through shared risks and unwavering support. It was a partnership that had allowed them to overcome countless challenges, but little did they know that their most daunting trial lay just ahead.

Despite the seamless coordination with Price and the valuable contributions she made to the team, the storm that would soon engulf them had brewed unnoticed. The battlefield had been their proving ground, a place where they could trust in their skills and each other, but Split's inner demons had remained hidden, like landmines buried beneath the surface.

The night was a descent into madness inside Split's mind. Hel, an insidious and feral persona, waged a gruesome battle for dominance, its vile whispers echoing like a chorus of demons.

In this nightmarish realm, Hel's voice took on a sadistic tone, urging Split towards self-destruction with horrifying promises. "You're worthless, Split. Embrace the darkness. The blade is your only salvation. End it."

Split's internal battle was a grotesque spectacle. She trembled and faltered under the weight of Hel's malevolence. Desperation gripped her, and she approached Captain Price with a concise request, her voice devoid of emotion. "Captain, I need to be restrained."

Price, his expression a mix of concern and apprehension, eventually granted her request, understanding the gravity of the situation.

Hours passed in haunting silence. Each member of the team took their turn, listening for any signs of distress. And then it was Ghost's shift.

In the dead of night, Split unleashed a scream that pierced through the darkness, a sound born of pure agony. Ghost burst into the room, his heart pounding with dread. What he found was a scene straight from a nightmare. Cuts and blood coated Split's body, her eyes vacant, her voice a sinister whisper; Her face the same one that’s been haunting his mind ever since that gruesome day.

Amidst the gruesome tableau, Split uttered words that tore through Ghost's soul. "Looks familiar aye, L.T? Remember me?." She gave him a bloodied smile, much like the one that haunted his mind every night since that mission went wrong.

Ghost, overcome with a mixture of grief and determination, removed his mask, revealing his own scarred face. “(Y/N)” He reached out to her, desperate to reclaim her from the abyss, to find the remnants of the rookie he had left behind in Mexico.

In the darkest recesses of Split's shattered psyche, Hel's sinister whispers persisted, dripping with venom. They echoed through the labyrinth of her mind, like the mournful wail of a lost soul. "It's your fault, Riley," it hissed malevolently, each word a dagger to Ghost's heart. "You left her behind in that hellhole, abandoned and broken. You let her become this... fractured thing. She'll never know the boundaries between reality and delusion, thanks to you."

Ghost felt a lump rise in his throat, choking back tears as he gazed upon the tortured visage of his former comrade. Split's face bore scars, not just physical, but the scars of a soul torn asunder by the horrors of their past. He whispered her name, "(Y/N)," his voice quivering with the weight of guilt and despair, as he desperately tried to reach the remnants of her true self buried beneath the torment.

And then, in the midst of this relentless darkness, a soft and hauntingly fragile voice broke through. "Simon," She whispered, her voice trembling like a fragile flame in a storm. It was a name that carried the echoes of their shared past, a name soaked in the tears of their unspoken regrets. In that moment, Split's plea for help was a heart-wrenching cry, a plea for salvation from the abyss that threatened to consume her completely.

Ghost's vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes, his heart aching with a profound sadness. He reached out and gently cradled Split's face in his hands, his touch gentle as if trying to mend the broken pieces of her soul.

"(Y/N)," he whispered, his voice trembling, "I promise, I'll bring you back. You're not alone in this fight." He held her gaze, his eyes reflecting a deep well of emotions - regret, determination, and a flicker of hope.

But Hel, the malevolent persona, refused to relent. It continued to taunt Ghost, its voice growing more desperate, as if trying to shatter his resolve. "She's lost, Simon. Forever lost. You can't save her from me. She'll dance in the abyss, and you'll watch her fall."

Ghost felt the weight of those words, the insidious doubt they sowed. But he clung to the faint glimmer of hope that Split's plea had ignited in him. In this darkness, amidst the torment and despair, he was determined to find a way to bring back the comrade he had left behind in Mexico, to heal the scars of their shared past, and to save Split from the abyss that threatened to consume her completely.

In the dimly lit room, Ghost continued to hold (Y/N), his determination unwavering. The team had been on high alert, listening to the nightmarish cries and whispers that had emanated from within. Price, Gaz, and Soap, who had been waiting outside of the room, couldn't bear the suspense any longer.

With expressions etched in concern, they rushed into Split's quarters one by one. Price took charge, his voice commanding yet filled with empathy. "Ghost, continue to help her. We're here with you."

As the team gathered around Split's bed, Gaz and Price, in their typical manner, couldn't help but let out a string of curses under their breath, their frustration evident. This was a situation unlike any they had encountered before.

Soap, on the other hand, stood there, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. He had seen his fair share of horrors in their line of work, but this was something entirely different. The sight of his comrades in such distress was deeply unsettling.

As the tension in the room reached its heart-wrenching peak, Ghost continued to cradle Split's face, his voice a soothing presence in the storm of her mind. The team gathered around, their concern palpable, their unwavering support a silent testament to the unbreakable bond they shared.

And then, in a moment that felt like an eternity in this house of horrors, something shifted. Split's vacant gaze flickered, like a feeble flame trying to rekindle amidst a downpour. Confusion clouded her eyes, and she blinked, her vision gradually clearing as she surveyed the room.

In that fragile moment, as Split's eyes locked onto Ghost's face, a sudden realization washed over her. Her eyes widened, and her voice wavered as she whispered, "Simon."

But then, something astonishing happened. The storm within her mind began to clear, and with trembling fingers, she reached up and touched her own face. It was as if she had glimpsed a fragment of her own lost memories, a key to unlocking the enigma that was her past.

"Simon, you..." Her voice faltered, a sense of recognition dawning in her eyes. It was a moment of revelation, one that held the promise of unlocking secrets buried deep within the labyrinth of their shared past. Yet, the truth they were about to uncover was far more profound and unsettling than any of them could have imagined. It was a truth that would plunge them into the darkest depths of despair.

——————————————————————————

A/N:

Hey everyone! Sorry it took me over a month to release this and also for it to come out short!!! I got so busy with school!

Thank you all for the support! (A little reblog might jumpstart this author’s heart teehee~)

Stay frosty~

-Bourbon

[ghostybourbon]

I decided to pick “Split” as (R/N)’s code name for my upcoming series “Something else”

Currently writing the it’s first chapter!

Reblogs and notes are very much appreciated~🫶🏻

[ghostybourbon]

Hi there! I'm Ghosty's Bourbon, you can call me Bonnie hehe or Bun. It's my first time writing a series so I'm always open for suggestions and criticism. (please be a tad bit kind tho, i cry)

I plan to write a kinda platonic fanfic (using (Y/N) ofc except for your surname sorry) with the TF 141 boys; I'm making this post because I'd love it if you guys would pick a code name for me!

l'll also ask in the future if y'all would like the main character (which is you duh) to end up with one of the boys EXCEPT for Ghost not because he's may man but because everyone's always writing about him! We should also shower the rest of the team with love just like how we love our fictional emo war criminal big boy, but if y’all actually want to end up with Ghost, then y'all might need to do some reasoning with me HEHE.

These names will affect the main character's background story! One thing I'lI say though, is you're going to be a bad ass.

So pick wisely or pick whatever your heart is calling~

Reblogs are very much appreciated~

[ghostybourbon]

Ch.3 of Something else might come out this weekend! Thanks for the support <3 I’m just really busy with schoolwork as of the moment.

Stay frosty~

-Bourbon

[ghostybourbon]

WARNING: SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED THE MW3 REVEAL YET- Just DNI if you don’t wanna get spoiled just a teeny tiny bit-

CODMW3 REVEAL RAAAAAAAH

JUST WANNA SAY- IF THEY HURT GHOST AGAIN I SWEAR IN PRICE’S NAME I WILL HAUNT THEIR DREAMS

OH AND THAT PART WHEN PRICE WAS DOWN?? HE WAS HOLDING GAZ’S HAND AND SOAP WAS THERE TOO SHDUFBDKAJCB AAAAAAAAAAAAA

STOP THEY EVEN BROUGHT BACK THE OLD GHOST MASK FAWKEN HEEEEELLL

i am not ready. I DONT HAVE ENOUGH SLEEP TO PROCESS ALL THIS- Anyways

I hope all of us are prepared for what’s about to happen. Bourbon out.

Stay frosty~

[ghostybourbon]

Hello to my small community <3

I’m finally back! I’ve got chapters waiting to be posted, also thank you so much for the support. I would love it if you guys reblog my work, (cause I’m not gonna lie-) it’s kinda one of the reasons to continue the series I’m working on (Something Else), but then again any support- I appreciate all of it!

[ghostybourbon]

Hi there! Been a while, before I post the first chapter of my series, here’s something I wrote a few days ago.

Fading echoes of Hope

In the shadows' grip, all hope has died,

A life consumed, emotions denied.

In tender years, the pain took root,

A joyless existence, a soul mute.

Through emotional storms, battered and bruised,

No respite found, just scars infused.

A trust betrayed, hearts left to break,

In solitude's embrace, you ache.

Locked in a world of numb despair,

No solace found, no one to care.

Isolation's chains, they tighten fast,

In a cold abyss, emotions cast.

As hope recedes, like fading light,

A weariness descends, day and night.

In darkness lost, no stars above,

A soul adrift, devoid of love.

With tears that flow, but hearts grown cold,

The battle's lost, the spirit sold.

No refuge found, no respite near,

Just emptiness and numbing fear.

In this desolation, lost and undone,

Yearning for warmth, for rays of sun.

But in the depths, a glimmer may start,

A spark of hope, within your heart.

Though weary now, and going numb,

Remember, dear soul, there's strength to come.

Reach out to others, let them in,

In empathy's touch, a new journey begin.

[ghostybourbon]

i’m a dumdum who got buried in paperwork, chapter 1 might come out tomorrow.

I’ll go disappear again~

[ghostybourbon]

Ch.2 might drop tomorrow!

Also, thank you so much for those who followed~ I love y’all!

Stay frosty~

Something Else

Ch.1 || Split

Pairing: TF141 x F!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence(?), Swearing, Mention of a mental health condition (DID) If you’re not okay with it you can avoid this chapter.

Other note: I’m sorry for any inaccuracies that you might notice, I will gladly work on it if you point it out^^ Please be kind tho ;-;

A/N: Sorry it got delayed but it’s here! I hope you enjoy it~

——————————————————————————

In the covert world of the British SAS, where elite operatives are honed through rigorous challenges, there emerges an extraordinary figure known only in hushed whispers and concealed records. She is a woman of exceptional fortitude, achieving the unprecedented feat of becoming the youngest to join the SAS. In her late twenties, she wields unmatched skills that have earned her the reverence of seasoned veterans and the respect of her peers.

Yet, beneath her unmatched capabilities lies a hidden truth that adds an intricate layer to her enigmatic persona - she battles with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) earning the code name ‘Split’ but within her psyche reside distinct identities, each manifesting its own specialized talents, memories, and perceptions. Amidst the turmoil of her mind, an astonishing tapestry of skills converges, making her an enigma and an indomitable force.

As a sniper, she possesses a profound connection with her rifle, threading needles with bullets to strike targets from unimaginable distances. Her mastery of close-quarters combat transforms her into a lethal symphony of precision and efficacy, making her an unrivaled CQB specialist capable of altering the course of the most treacherous encounters. Embracing solitude, she becomes one with the silence, navigating perilous terrains that few dare to tread. Her uncanny ability to infiltrate enemy strongholds and extract critical intelligence- with almost little to no trace has become a legend whispered among the clandestine circles.

In the face of adversity, she seamlessly shifts between identities, employing the intricacies of her mind as both a shield and a weapon. Her dance between personas bewilders adversaries and outwits danger. A symphony of tactical brilliance unfurls, leaving behind no trace of her presence.

——————————————————————————

“I don’t need another soldier joining us-“

“Yes, you do, Price. You don’t admit it but you’re breaking-“

“I’m not- and so are they.”

Laswell looks at Price, sadness and frustration evident in her eyes as she scans his face; What a stubborn man, she thinks to herself.

"What if I were to inform you that Split has given their affirmative commitment to join the Task Force and is standing by for your approval, hm?" Laswell states with precision and a sense of determination. With a subtle sip of her coffee, she swiftly extracts a sleek folder from her bag and crisply slides it across the table to Price.

Price's eyes widen in disbelief as he gazes at the folder resting in front of him. The weight of the revelation sinks in, and he takes a moment to process the gravity of the situation. His mind races with the implications of having Split on board, a valuable addition to the Task Force.

Finally, Price looks up, meeting Laswell's unwavering gaze. "How did you get ahold of them?" he asks, his voice tinged with a mix of astonishment and excitement. The possibilities of this collaboration are both daunting and enticing, and he can feel the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders.

"I've successfully tracked down Split through my contacts," Laswell asserts with a determined tone, leaning in closer to Price. "Discreet communication has been established."

Price listens as he goes through the folder, taking note of how little information it contains, apart from the achievements and past missions. “(Y/N) Katastrof, looks like we got another ghost joining the team.” He mutters under his breath. Price takes a deep breath, his eagerness palpable in the air as he gazes at the folder in front of him. "I've heard the whispers about Split," he admits, his voice low and contemplative. "I’ve been trying to track ‘em down but despite my efforts, I've never had the chance to get ahold of them."

Laswell nods, understanding Price's desire to have Split on their team. "I know you've been eager to make this happen," she says, her tone supportive. "And now that we have this opportunity, we need to tread carefully."

Price looks up, determination shining in his eyes. "We can't let this chance slip away, if they're willing to join us, then bloody hell let’s make it happen."

Laswell smiles, seeing Price's commitment to the mission and the potential of this collaboration. "I share your enthusiasm," she says. "We'll move forward cautiously, ensuring that everything is in place before we bring them on board."

Price nods, feeling a mix of excitement and responsibility. "I'll have the team prepare for the integration," he says. "We need to make sure everyone is on board and understands the significance of this addition."

Laswell stands, ready to support Price in this critical decision. "I'll handle the communication with Split," she states. "We'll verify their commitment and ensure that their skills align with our objectives."

As they finalize their plan, Price and Laswell know that they're on the verge of a significant moment for the Task Force. Their shared determination and strategic approach give them the confidence that, with Split's inclusion, they can take their missions to new heights. Together, they'll navigate the challenges ahead, and with the right balance of caution and enthusiasm, they're ready to welcome Split into the ranks of the Task Force.

——————————————————————————

“Fuckin’ minx! I’ll blow your brains out!”

“Stop whining, will ya?” Was the last thing that man heard before getting his neck snapped. Dusting her gloves off, she stares at the dead body in front of her, smirking under her balaclava. “Poor lad, would’ve gotten a less painful passing if he cooperated.” She mumbles to herself as she checks her gear for any missing items.

“Lieutenant, help” A weak voice calls out, causing her to snap out of the state she was in, pausing her movements to listen again. A cough echoes throughout the room she’s in, her feet leading her to the source of it until her eyes settled on a soldier, bleeding out on the floor. Eyes widening, her body moves, quickly grabbing a tourniquet from her medical kit.

“Fuck did you got yourself into, Rook?” She says to the man; he’s too young, she thinks to herself as she wraps the band around his leg, pausing to look at him “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch but I need you to take it for me, yeah? I know you can take more than this” She waits for his approval before tightening the band, the soldier letting out a muffled groan.

“Hurts more than your kicks, ma’am, but I’ll take your hits over this any time of the fucking day” Rook says, chuckling as he leans back on the wall. “Got everything we need?” He asks, trying to catch his breath.

“Of course we do, sarge.” She looks up at him, giving a wink before going back to disinfecting his wound. “Call for exfil while I do this” She says quietly as she starts to patch him up. Rook following what she says as he contacts the rest of their squadron.

——————————————————————————

“Soap, don’t put too much weight on it or else you’re gonna fall”

“WHERE’M A MEANT TAEPUT MA WEIGHT? WHERE?! AH CANNAE PUT MA WEIGHT OON TH’ ROOF IS DEAD THIN!”

Gaz laughs as he watches Soap try to get his shoe from the roof, Ghost watching in amusement while he cleans his knives. The scotsman speaking almost too fast for the both of them to understand which only caused Gaz to laugh even harder. Unbeknownst to them, their Captain stepping out for a smoke, gruff as ever made his presence known by coughing.

“Captain” Ghost turns around and nods at him as Soap panics and slips off of the roof, a yelp followed by a grunt as he hit the floor; Gaz trying his best to stop himself from laughing before greeting his captain.

“Tomorrow at 0900 hours, we’ll be having a briefing along with Laswell.” He says nodding back at the men before lighting up his cigar, confused as to why they’re still looking at him. “Go on, at ease” He takes a drag on his cigar and looking off to think.

“And Soap, get off the floor.”

“Solid, Cap”

[ghostybourbon]

Ch.4 dropping soon!!

Thank you for supporting my series <3

Something Else

Ch. 3 || Evaluation

Warnings: MDNI, Canon-typical violence(?), Swearing, Mention of a mental health condition (DID) .

A/N: Hey there! I hope you enjoy this chapter~ Unfortunately, no König interaction on this one, YET. Sorry it took a while <3

——————————————————————————————————

“All settled, Katastrof?”

“Please, call me Split, Cap.”

She answered with a smirk, setting the knives down on a small table before turning to face him. Price wore a faint, amused smile as he regarded her. "Very well, Split," he acknowledged. "We're here to assess your skills today, and I've got a few evaluations lined up."

The marksman evaluation was first on the agenda. Split's cocky persona emerged seamlessly, the one they call "Azrael" , a master of precision and confidence. She walked to the shooting range with swagger in her step, her fingers caressing the stock of her sniper rifle.

Price watched as Split lined up her shot, the scope fixed on a distant target. Her breathing was slow and controlled, her finger squeezing the trigger with unwavering confidence. The gunshot echoed through the range, and the target's bullseye shattered into fragments.

Price couldn't help but smile at her skill. "Excellent shot, Split. Now, let's see how fast you can use that pistol of yours."

Split holstered the sniper rifle and withdrew her sidearm, a compact semi-automatic. Her hands were a blur as she drew and fired, hitting multiple targets in rapid succession. Each shot was dead center, demonstrating her proficiency in close-quarters combat.

Next came the knife-throwing evaluation. Split's hands moved with deadly grace as she hurled her knives with pinpoint accuracy. One after another, they embedded themselves into the wooden target, forming a tight cluster around the bullseye.

Impressed by her marksmanship, Price nodded. "Now, it's time for the hand-to-hand combat evaluation."

Price had arranged for Split to spar with Ghost, and as she approached Ghost, her demeanor shifted instantly. Her icy persona took over, and her presence became intimidating, like a frigid winter storm.

Ghost squared off against Split, his guard up. They circled each other, the room's tension palpable. Split moved with calculated precision, her movements fluid and methodical. She blocked Ghost's strikes effortlessly, countering with swift and precise blows. It was a dance of combat, each movement purposeful and lethal. As Price observed the intense spar between Split and Ghost, he couldn't help but mutter quietly, "Thana." Soap and Gaz exchanged curious glances, both intrigued and puzzled by Price's muttered word. Soap was the first to speak up, his brow furrowing. "What was that, Cap?"

Price's gaze remained fixed on the spar, but he took a moment to explain. "Thana means 'death' in Greek. It's the name she's given to that persona she's in right now. It's like watching a living embodiment of cold, calculated lethality."

Gaz nodded in understanding, his eyes still locked on the intense battle taking place before them. "I see what you mean, Captain. She's a force to be reckoned with when she taps into that side of herself."

Price watched as Split's Thana persona continued to dominate the sparring session, her movements precise and relentless. He couldn't help but feel a mixture of admiration and wariness for the deadly alter ego within their team.

Price, Soap, and Gaz watched in awe as Split's persona transformed her into a formidable adversary. Ghost, a skilled fighter in his own right, struggled to keep up with her. Despite his best efforts, Split landed a devastating blow to his midsection, sending him crashing to the mat.

Price called an end to the sparring match, and Ghost slowly rose, acknowledging Split's victory with a nod of respect. Her cold demeanor melted away, and she offered him a hand to help him up, reverting to a more neutral persona.

Price, Soap, and Gaz exchanged glances, clearly noticing the change in Split's behavior throughout the evaluations. She was a chameleon, seamlessly shifting between personas, each one a master of their specialty. It was a testament to her unique and invaluable skills, making her an asset to their team. The training area was slowly emptying out after Split's evaluation. Soap and Gaz, already familiar with her personas, approached their Lieutenant as she stood by the sparring mat, adjusting her gear. They exchanged a glance and then addressed her with friendly smiles.

"Hey there, Lieutenant," Soap chimed in with his characteristic Scottish lilt. "Care to introduce us to another one of your personas today?"

Split, now assuming the persona of "Loki" the infiltration expert, turned to them. Her voice maintained its usual tone but took on, what Soap calls the smartass talk, "Of course. Today, you may refer to me as Loki."

Gaz, with a playful grin, joined in the interaction. "Loki, huh? Sounds intriguing. What does Loki bring to the table, Lieutenant?"

Loki, maintaining her sophisticated demeanor, replied, "Loki similar to the Norse god, known for his wit and cunning. He appreciates clever solutions to challenges and enjoys pushing the boundaries of conventional thinking. I'd say this Loki is much more mischievous."

Soap chuckled in response, his Scottish accent carrying warmth. "Well, Lieutenant, it's always a pleasure to have such an esteemed god on our side." Gaz nodded in agreement.

The trio continued to chat, with Soap's jolly and playful personality complementing the sophisticated and articulate tone of Loki. The banter flowed smoothly, with the unique dynamic between the personas adding an intriguing layer to their interactions.

As Soap, Gaz, and Split engaged in conversation, Price, moved closer to Ghost, who had taken a moment to catch his breath, his voice steady and authoritative. "Ghost, you held your ground quite well against our new recruit." Ghost, still masked and enigmatic, responded to Price with a low, grunt. Deep inside, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something strangely familiar about Split, something that tugged at the edges of his memory. As he pondered this, he resolved to keep a watchful eye on their new teammate, determined to uncover the mystery that had sparked his curiosity. "Had to test her mettle, Captain. She's a tough one."

Price nodded, acknowledging the unspoken understanding between the two. "Indeed, Ghost. We've got a unique team here. Keep an eye on her transitions, but I have faith she'll be an asset." Ghost gave a subtle nod of agreement. "Of course, Captain. I'll keep an eye on things." They took one last look at Split, in awe and with respect. Price gives Ghost a pat on his back before walking off, Ghost nods in return before his eyes landed back on Split. "She's something else."

——————————————————————————————————

A/N: Hi there! I hope you liked this <3 Any type of support is very much appreciated~

Stay frosty~

Bourbon, out.

[ghostybourbon]

Should I add a little König interaction?

Something Else

Ch.2 || Introductions

Pairing: TF141 × F!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Canon-typical violence(?), Swearing, Mention of a mental health condition (DID) If you're not okay with it you can avoid this chapter.

Other note: It's a pretty lengthy chapter (￣▽￣*)ゞ and Hi! Bourbon’s back! I hope you guys like this <3

——————————————————————————

“Split”

“Laswell, we meet again.” Split greets her with a handshake, fresh off from the field. Swiftly taking off some of her gear before sitting in front of Laswell’s desk. She looks around in the office, obviously not owned by the woman in front of her. "You really chose Colonel König's office just so you can speak to me?" She says with a chuckle, before glaring at Laswell.

“Care to take off the mask? and the colonel was more than happy to let me borrow his office for a few minutes.” Laswell starts, taking a folder from a drawer and setting it in front of her, waiting for the soldier to settle her stuff; She scans her movements, taking note of the way she plays with her gloves, how neatly her gear is placed away.

“You know I don’t do that. Called me in for the captain’s approval?” Split asked right away, to avoid further bugging from Laswell. "Indeed," Laswell replies, her tone even as she hands the folder to Split. "The captain has been keen on having you join the Task Force for a while now." Split's gloved fingers tap on the folder in front of her, the atmosphere charged with a mix of tension and intrigue. "And why the sudden change of heart from him?" she questions, her voice steady but filled with curiosity.

Laswell's gaze remains fixed on Split, assessing every detail as she speaks. "He's seen your work, your efficiency. He believes your skills could be a valuable asset to the team." Split chuckles, a hint of amusement hidden behind her mask. "Is that so? And what do you believe, Laswell?"

Laswell leans forward slightly, her eyes locked onto Split's concealed face. "I believe that actions speak louder than reputation," she states calmly. "Given your abilities, you've got a lot of people trying to track you down."

Split's posture remains composed, her demeanor unreadable. "You've done your homework," she acknowledges, a note of approval in her voice. "But you must know, I have my conditions."

Laswell nods, her expression unwavering. "We're open to negotiation, as long as your conditions align with the objectives of the Task Force."

Split's gaze narrows behind her mask, and for a moment, the air is thick with unspoken tension. "I have my reasons for being elusive, for maintaining my anonymity," she says slowly. "I won't compromise that. Not again."

Laswell's response is swift, her voice firm. "We understand the importance of discretion. We can work within those boundaries."

The two women lock eyes, a silent exchange of determination and calculation. Both aware that this meeting is a pivotal moment for the Task Force and the potential alliance they're considering. As Split's gloved hand finally opens the folder, Laswell can feel the weight of their conversation settling over them, setting the course for what comes next.

—————————————————————————— "Settle down. Laswell will be here in a bit." "Aye, sir."

"I think we've got a new member joining" Gaz whispers next to Soap, who's smirking as he watches their captain read a file. "How can ya tell?" Soap whispers back, taking a glance at Gaz before going back to watching Price.

"They never do a briefing in here unless it's a new member." Gaz says, amusement evident in his voice, Soap's eyes widens as he realizes that Gaz may be right. As he was about to speak, Ghost suddenly put a hand on his shoulder, a way of telling them to not pry on it. They both shut up after sharing a glance with each other.

A few minutes passed before Laswell steps inside the office. Price stands at the head of the briefing room, his gaze serious and his demeanor commanding. "Listen up, everyone," he begins, his voice carrying the weight of the information he's about to share. "We've been given a unique opportunity. A skilled operative, known as 'Split,' has expressed interest in joining our ranks."

Laswell stands beside Price, her expression focused as she continues, "But this isn't just any operative, she's a First Lieutenant; she battles with Dissociative Identity Disorder, and her multiple personas possess distinct skill sets. She's a sniper, close-quarters combat specialist, and an infiltration expert, all rolled into one."

The room is filled with hushed murmurs as the members of the 141 exchange glances, the weight of Split's reputation sinking in.

Price raises his hand, and the room falls silent. "She's not just highly skilled; she's also incredibly dangerous. Her ability to shift personas makes her unpredictable."

Laswell's voice remains steady as she elaborates, "But she's not without her challenges. Her struggle with DID is ongoing, and she's maintained her anonymity for a reason. We respect her need for discretion."

Price steps forward, his gaze sweeping over the room. "Our enemies are after her for a reason. They know the threat she poses. And that's exactly why we want her on our side."

Laswell continues, her tone unwavering. "Split's capabilities can bolster our team's effectiveness. We'll work with her to ensure a seamless integration that respects her boundaries while further harnessing her skills."

The room is tense with anticipation as Price and Laswell lay out the gravity of the situation. Split's reputation as a formidable figure within covert operations is evident, as is the potential she holds for the 141.

"We're moving forward cautiously," Price concludes, his voice firm. "But if we can gain her trust and make this collaboration work, we could have an edge like never before. Questions?"

As the briefing room fills with questions, Price and Laswell brace for the discussions and decisions that lie ahead. The 141's future could be forever changed by this enigmatic operative, and everyone present knows they're standing at the crossroads of a pivotal moment in their mission.

Price raises his hand once more, quelling the rising discussions in the room. "I understand that this is a lot to take in," he says calmly, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "But remember, we're a team. We've faced challenges before, and this is just another test of our ability to adapt."

Laswell steps forward, her presence commanding attention. "We're not taking this decision lightly. Split's inclusion will be a calculated risk, but the rewards could be monumental."

Ghost raises his hand, seeking clarification. "How do we know she won't turn against us? What's stopping her from using her skills against the 141?" His voiced somehow laced with venom.

Price responds with conviction, "We'll have strict protocols in place. Trust needs to be earned, and she'll undergo rigorous evaluation."

Laswell adds, "Remember, Split is reaching out to us. She's interested in joining our mission. We believe she sees the value in working alongside us."

Another operative speaks up, concern evident in their voice. "But what about her DID? How can we be sure she won't be a liability in the field?"

Price nods, addressing the valid concern. "We'll be working closely with her to understand her condition better. She's managed it effectively in the past, and we'll provide the necessary support."

Laswell's gaze sweeps over the room, her determination unwavering. "This mission isn't just about adding a skilled operative. It's about embracing change, learning from each other, and becoming a stronger, more adaptable team."

Price concludes, "We've all seen the battlefield, faced the unknown. It's what we do best. Let's proceed cautiously but with an open mind. We've been handed an opportunity, and it's up to us to make it count."

As the room quiets down, the operatives exchange glances. The weight of the decision before them is clear, but so is the determination in their eyes. The potential collaboration with Split adds a layer of complexity to their already challenging missions, but they know that the 141's ability to evolve and thrive amidst adversity is what sets them apart.

"Now all of you, will address her as Lieutenant Katastrof until she tells ya what you should call her, unless you lads have deathwishes." Price says with that iconic smirk as he ends their briefing.

With their eyes set on the challenges ahead, the 141 members prepare to embark on their next mission, aware that this alliance with Split could change the course of their operations in ways they hadn't imagined before. ——————————————————————————

A few days after the briefing. The helipad on the Task Force's secure base was a hub of activity as the helo's blades sliced through the air, gradually descending to its designated landing spot. Price stood there, his eyes fixed on the incoming aircraft. Beside him, Soap and Gaz exchanged curious glances, their anticipation palpable.

As the helo landed smoothly, the dust settled to reveal a figure in black emerging from the aircraft. Split's gear was sleek, all in black, designed for quiet movement and agility. The balaclava she wore had painted red streaks that seemed to flow from the eye sockets, creating an eerie yet captivating effect as if she was crying blood.

Price stepped forward to greet her, and as she turned toward the core members of the 141, the tension in the air was palpable. Soap and Gaz exchanged a quick, bewildered look, both feeling a mixture of curiosity and intimidation. Beside them, Ghost's expression remained inscrutable, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he observed Split.

Price extended his hand for a handshake, his tone welcoming. "Lieutenant Katastrof, welcome to the Task Force."

"Captain," she responded, her voice cool and composed. She shook his hand firmly before turning her attention to Soap and Gaz. Her gaze swept over them, her eyes hidden behind her balaclava. "Soap, Gaz," she acknowledged, the tension momentarily easing.

Soap chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess we're getting another copy of our L.T," he joked, a hint of unease in his tone.

Gaz smirked, playing along. "Right, because one wasn't enough."

Split's lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement visible under her balaclava. The atmosphere seemed to relax a bit, the ice broken by the lighthearted exchange.

Ghost, however, stood a bit apart from the group, his gaze focused on Split. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, something familiar about her. It was as if a distant memory was trying to resurface.

Price's voice broke the momentary silence. "Let me introduce you to Ghost, another Lieutenant, you two will most likely work with each other for the next few months." he said, gesturing toward the silent figure.

Ghost's mask concealed his expression, but there was a sense of intrigue in his stance as Split turned to face him. "Ghost," she greeted, her voice holding a trace of something almost nostalgic.

Ghost's response was barely perceptible, a simple nod as if acknowledging something unspoken between them.

Price glanced between the two, his curiosity piqued by the exchange. "We've got a lot to discuss, but first, let's get you settled in," he said, leading the way toward the base.

As they walked, the members of the Task Force exchanged glances, the initial intimidation slowly morphing into a mix of intrigue and cautious anticipation. Split's presence had injected a new energy into their ranks, and as they moved forward, they knew that the missions ahead would be unlike anything they had faced before.

—————————————————————————— A/N:

Hey there! Bourbon here! I'm sorry for the inaccuracies that you may have noticed ;-; but anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Any types of support are very much appreciated and thank you so much for supporting me! Bourbon out.

Stay frosty~

[ghostybourbon]

It’s out! Here~

Something else

Ch.1 || Split

I decided to pick “Split” as (R/N)’s code name for my upcoming series “Something else”

Currently writing the it’s first chapter!

Reblogs and notes are very much appreciated~🫶🏻