#call of duty black ops cold war fanfiction

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

FICMAS - DAY 12 - WRAPPING PRESENTS

Title: Presents with Price

Synopsis: John and you take a small... break from wrapping presents.

Warnings: This is uh.. smut :) other than that, nothing much other than mentions of Johnny having chemical burns (because he's a bomb tech, it's kind of realistic I reckon) oh and like mild voyuerism but nothing much lol. Also female anatomy + fem praise (atta girl) and a spank because The Missus don't write no smut without spanking

AN: god I love writing smut for this man oh uhhhh and merry Christmas :)

You're sat across from John, genuinely trying to focus but he's looking scrumptious in those flannel pants and low cut shirt. 

"How many left to wrap?" You ask, slightly breathless, currently working on Simon's gift, wrapping carefully.

"Got Kyle's, Kate's, and then I think we're good," he responds, glancing back up at you before looking down at whatever he's wrapping. 

You sigh, snipping with the scissors the wrapping paper, folding it up carefully. You aren't really... Focused, though. You're looking at his hands.

He watches you with a small chuckle, already finished with whatever he's wrapping.

"Johnny said 'e wants us t'wrap his gifts for Kyle, Kate, and Sim'n. Says 'is 'ands are real bad after the mission--chemical burns and the like," he mutters out, tilting his head as he watches you, flustered to be caught staring, trying to wrap with shakey little hands.

"Copy that," you mutter, setting the gift aside, grabbing the next one to start wrapping.

He lets out a soft hum, "'Ow 'bout whenever you're done with all that we take a little break, hm?" He offers, patting his thigh with one of those deliciously meaty hands.

You nod, squeaking slightly, "Yeah.. little break would b'nice."

You start to wrap a little quicker, fumbling slightly. He chuckles, watching how flustered you are. Once that present is done, he opens his arms, welcoming you with that smile.

He sets you down in his lap, plopping you down and wrapping his arms around you. He kisses from your jaw down your neck, placing little nips and kisses and licks, teasing you.

"J-John.." you mumble, shutting your eyes and putting both your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself upright.

"Yes, lovie?" He responds with a smirk.

"Y-ou're such a damn-" you're cut off by him sinking his teeth into the crook of your neck, sucking down and making you let out a gasp.

"I'm a what?" He asks, smirking as he goes back to just gentle, feathery kisses.

"A d-damn tease.." you whisper, taking a deep breath to try to hold yourself together. By now one of his hands is rubbing up and down your side, before it goes down to your thighs, rubbing up and down again.

"A damn tease? I'm teasin' ya, love?" He murmurs, finding another spot to suck on your neck. You gasp out, his hand finding your cunt.

You let out a tiny moan as his hand slips into your slick little slit, "Ya dirtry bird, 'uh? S'wet.. just from starin' a' me..." he growls into your ear with that smoky vibrato.

You nod, embarrassed, and your cheeks flush as he teases your clit, making you groan out.

He hears this little gaspy "Juh- John!" come from your lips, and that makes all his control slip.

He can't help but push all the presents and supplies and wrapping paper away, getting you on your hands and knees, slapping your ass after pulling your pajama pants down and those lacey little "panties" down, though he can hardly consider them anything when they leave *so little* to the imagination.

"Gonna pu' it in, yeah?" He says, kneeling behind you and starting to get undressed. He gets his pants off, his stomach slightly exposed, and then pulls his boxers off.

He teases his shaft up and down the crease from the very top of your ass to where your labia ends, making you shudder and mewl, embarrassed to be spread out somewhere so... public.

"Y-you're gonna wake someone u-" you try protesting, you really do, but then he slams his cock directly down into you, bottoming out in *seconds.*

It makes your elbows go weak, your back arch, those pretty eyes John loves to stare at go back, rolling into the sockets. You feel that *entire* girth that he's been working to get you to comfortably take all sheathed inside you at one and you can't help it, you let out a loud moan.

So, John covers your mouth with his hand, leaning down and kissing your shoulder, "Break's gotta be quie', birdie. You'll wake someone up," he taunt.

You nod, desperate, and it makes John chuckle and shake his head, kissing down your shoulder to the centre of your back, "Arse up in the air, atta girl.." he mumbles, making you arch your back into his length as much as you can.

He rubs up and down your back, making slow, easing thrusts into you. By now, his hand has been removed from your mouth because you're *already* cockdrunk on him because of how girthy and patronising he can be.

"S'pretty..." he praises, wiping a small dribble of drool from your mouth, a little "ah- ah- ah-" escaping your mouth as your ass stutters back into his rudely slow pace, cum flowing down slowly.

"Makin' a mess, huh bird?" He chuckles, rubbing your ass with one hand as the other holds your hip, gently groping your cheek as his thrusts start to ever so slightly speed up.

The change in pace makes your little "ahs!" get louder, a "Shush, darlin'... don' gotta get loud on my cock, huh?" escape his lips as he tries to shut you up.

After so long you think your brain might be leaking from your ears, maybe your third(? John has lost count at this rate) cumming falling from where you're both conjoined his hips start to stutter and his chest heaves. He lets out a few groans, harder thrusts that make you squeal coming from him.

His hips jerk a little more and a hand goes to your shoulder, pushing you back onto his cock as he spills himself inside of you. You let out a pretty moan, body going frail as you grin widely, fucked out.

He pulls out slowly, a little "plop" sound as his cum spills out and onto the ground. He helps you up, getting your panties on and those pajama pants and hoping that that is enough until you're upstairs and finished wrapping presents so he can *properly* give you aftercare.

"'Right, lovie.." he mumbles out, helping you sit on your ass as you catch your breath, "let's finish these presents up, yeah?"

[manswithaplans]

Thank you for the tag :)

Uhhh let's see. Okay easy

1. The pixar movie Cars (2006). Not even the trilogy I could talk about the movie Cars forever. Me and several of my friends sat down and watched the trilogy and got really deep into the religious aspects and consequences of both a car Pope and when Mac uses the term "Thank the Manufacturer!". But seriously there's some interesting stuff. It relates to Homestuck somehow. It's also a Hallmark movie but I digress.

2. Five nights at Freddy's. Listen I grew up with/ as the series came out, and if someone sat me down and explained the current, up to date lore my head would explode. But I COULD tell you what my perspective of the lore is as someone who's grown with it and has made their own personal opinions/retcons on it.

3. Yu-Gi-Oh. Only first gen sorry. I grew up on it, know most of the series one lore outside of the specifics of season 5. The way the show makes and breaks it's own rules, and the way the show is so so far from today's playing rules for the card game is ASTOUNDING. But mostly the characters, I think there's some REALLY interesting lore/relationship shit going on that fully envelope me every time during the yearly Yugioh hyperfixation week.

4. Call of duty. Listen I don't do a lot of call of duty stuff, I'm not huge into all the games outside of Black Ops Cold War, but I fucking love the reboot Modern Warfare 2 and I have some really strong opinions on why story wise it became so popular. If you want people to give a shit about your characters, you have GOT to give them TIME with those characters. Also might get sniped for this but black ops 6 having "bosses" where you had to chip at a fucking health bar belongs in exactly ZERO call of duty games. Not sorry. It works if it's a tank, not an armored guard.

5. Fandom culture. Especially on places like AO3. There's a really really strange gap between how much people love their fanfiction/"need it to survive" versus how many people give kudos or COMMENT. I comment on nearly every fic I read. Several paragraphs worth on ones I love. Respect your authors work, and THANK THEM. It can be as simple as a "I loved x part!" Or "Thank you for writing!"

I tag @dwinjohnsel, @velcrooooo, @merthur-phandom, @folkloricstranger , and @bugwatcher6000 :)

Rules: List five topics you can talk about for an hour without preparing any material, and tag five people!

doctor who. boy can i talk about doctor who

the reformation and late medieval/early modern history more broadly

the edge chronicles

the peter o'toole henry ii cinematic universe

douglas adams' books

tagging the dash!

[animefreak1145]

Late WIP Wednesday(Oops)

Sorry I’m taking so long with well…everything. But this is to show you guys for the Church Bells(Frank Woods x Bell!Reader x Russell Adler fic). I AM working on it. I’m just a little slow 🥲 Here ya go! It’s another flashback sequence before Bell found out the truth.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“What? At my work? Isn’t that like everyone else?”

Lazar hummed, his eyes glittering at a joke you can’t understand.

“No. You have that type of stare that will freeze lesser men. Or get slapped by someone who thinks you’re looking for a fight. Or get you put into an asylum. Only, when you decode, you have an insane smile on your face. It’d be creepy if we didn’t know you.”

“Uh huh.” You dismissed, eyes glancing at the medical office. “You should work better on your compliments if you want Park to have a drink with you.”

If Park wasn’t in the medical office room along with Adler, you’re sure Lazar would throw his old cup noodle at you. Alas, he only gave you a dry “Ha. Ha.” with a neutral expression but still didn’t leave. He wants an answer.

You turn to him fully, elbows leaning back against the desk, petulant.

“I doubt I smile like how you describe…” Lazar snorted while you frowned at him, before shifting your gaze back to your papers. “I don’t know. I just…love puzzles. They’re fun to solve.”

“Is that what makes you stare so intently?” Lazar leaned against the television, the stand slightly creaking at the movement, his intrigue seeming sincere. Another question hidden, two subjects being asked for one answer. A wall. “The thrill?”

Is that what love is to you?

You tapped at the papers, biting your lip in thought.

“Maybe a part…I just have this need to figure things out. To open it up—to find the numbers, the letters, the riddles. In an order that is random but it’s not. It’s just a trick. A shadow on the wall. A reason for each piece. Each hint. Every piece of the puzzle has its purpose. It’s reason for being.” You didn’t notice when you started smiling, the topic consuming you like books and pictures do. But you just kept going as you grabbed your pen and fiddled with it, miming writing numbers or letters. “Like Sims with mechanics, I think. Or you with bomb wiring. You find the hardy wires or broken pieces—and I untangle it all. I even love how difficult it could be if I find a cipher intellectual. It’s fun.”

“Sounds maddening,” Lazar replied simply, brow raising. “And painful. Maybe even obsessive.”

You shrug, staring deeply at your own pen, tone far away. As if you were speaking about another topic than this. Something other. Like a secret.

“That’s love, isn’t it? Pain and obsession?”

.

.

.

Just a taste. Any more and I would give you guys the whole thing 😂

Tag List: @tr1ppylady @parkeepingparker @weirdoartist21 @gojocat247 @mayaibnlaahad @dallmaistir @salvija @kylezkie4adler @asaltryefl @stupid-stinky @aurora-windu @zachfoxx121 @pyxis-stellae @makeyourpeacenow

[welldonekhushi]

Vasili’s Retirement

Here's an aesthetic moodboard I made of Vasili when he was in the KGB!

Summary: Charkov convincing Vasili to retire after giving his full service in the KGB. What made the General do so? And would Vasili agree to it?

Note: This is where I change some of the canon story for my Bell! General Charkov being a father figure for Vasili and Dimitri.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1,293 words.

“Amidst the complexities that are rising in between the relationship with the East and the West, we solemnly take your contribution as a huge factor to handle the situation quite well, Major Vasili.” The General of the KGB, Anton Charkov talks as Vasili carefully listens to his superior who called in for an important discussion. Charkov pours a cup of tea inside Vasili’s cup and for himself.

“Take a sip.” Charkov offered Vasili to partake of the beverage, as he needed the conversation to be as neutral and calm as possible, even knowing it was a hard decision for the General who was holding a heavy heart within himself to tell the news. Vasili grabbed the cup handle and took a sip of the tea, before placing it back on the General’s desk.

“But as we’re worried about the safety and security of the organisation, along with your own being... you’ve already made a lot of enemies, Vasili.” Charkov furrowed his eyebrows, placing the brim of the cup on his lips as he sipped the tea inside, before pulling back and kept it on the desk, crossing his hands. “And it’s not because we don’t trust you, but we’re only trying to keep the secrets within ourselves. You know a lot more than they do. You’re their prime target.”

“You mean the CIA could be behind me anytime? Regardless they’re the ones desperate to catch me and miserably failed.. somehow?” Vasili raised an eyebrow.

“Possibly. You can’t always trust your wits, Vasili. This isn’t a game, but a matter of serious consideration. Your life's on the line, and it’s standing on a tightrope. You’d never know if the pressure would soon be unbearable, that would likely make not only you, but the whole KGB at risk. Even if you die or get captive, it’s the same consequence.”

“So... what do you want me to do?” Vasili questioned.

Charkov held a heavy heart while trying to reveal his response to the Major. He sighed, and shook his head, and faced the officer again, feeling prepared. “You should retire.”

Vasili was astonished by that order, and it made his eyes widen. He forgot about everything at that very moment, from hearing Charkov’s response. It felt like a part of him was about to shatter. The very duty that kept him sane and dedicated, only for him to be told that he should finally let go of it. “But... General I – “

“I know, Sokolov. This is a very, very hard decision that I took upon myself. But I also had to hold a cabinet meeting for it. They advised you to retire but go undercover with a new identity and appearance. Conceal yourself as much as you can... the Western powers would do everything, and anything to get to you. And I’m not saying this as a KGB General... but as a concerned father.” Charkov tried to assure Vasili that whatever he was doing was for the sake of the whole nation’s safety and security. He didn’t want to lose it... but he wouldn’t want to see his country fall as well, only because he disagreed with what Charkov told him to do so.

With a bitter understanding, Vasili gave the nod, not wanting to condemn Charkov’s order. “Sir, yes sir.”

“Otlichno. I’m proud of you, Vasya.” Charkov lit up a smile, but Vasili had his face drowned in deep emotions. He had so much to succeed in, but turns out, this was the end. It felt like his glory days were over, but for the better, he agreed to leave the KGB on the General’s order.

“Don’t worry about what happens next here after your departure. Major Dimitri Belikov would take your place from now on. I trust him as much as I do with you, too. You both made me really proud, and I wish you luck.” Charkov extended his hand towards Vasili for a handshake.

Vasili gave a slight smile and joined the handshake the General offered to him. As Vasili got up from his chair and started to leave the office and walked through the hallway, he saw Dimitri, who too was also approaching the General’s office. The man stopped in surprise, who concealed his pain by leaving the duty to greet his beloved friend. “Dima?”

“Vasya!” Dimitri gave him a grin. “What happened? Did you do something mischievous again, that made Anton Charkov give you a huge, philosophical lecture? Like the last time?” He laughed it out, but Vasili gave a sly smile, knowing the truth.

“Ah, no Dima I... I think this is my last meeting with you.” Vasili spoke in a demotivated tone. Dimitri’s smile vanished when he said that, but he tried to brush it off thinking he may be joking with him.

“Oh, zamolchi! You’re playing with me. Aren’t you?” Dimitri laughed it out, but Vasili shook his head back.

“I’m being honest.” There was a moment of silence for a second, in between each other. Dimitri was still confused, and Vasili was the one to break it again. “I’m retiring.”

“What?!” Dimitri said in shock. “Are you serious, how could you retire – “

“I understand you feel the same as me, Dimitri. But... this is only for the sake of the nation’s safety and security.” Vasili replied. “Charkov and I have talked about it, and he wants you to take my place instead.”

Dimitri was internally disagreeing with him, as he didn’t want to believe it at first. But hearing Vasili’s words, he felt conflicted. “But... I could never be like you.”

“You’re misunderstood. Charkov trusts you like he trusts me. You’ve been assigned with a responsibility, Dima... and you must do it. For me.” Vasili grabbed onto his shoulders, assuring him. “I won’t be there, but I’d never forget what you did for me.”

Dimitri tried not to break in tears, seeing that his friend was now bidding a farewell from his post. Vasili gave him a hopeful smile and hugged him. Dimitri too hugged him back tighter, not wanting to let Vasili go this quick.

“It’ll be okay, Vasili...” Dimitri sniffs as he tries to control himself at this moment. “If you ever need something, get to me first. And it should be me only.”

Vasili pats his back and chuckles. “Of course, moy brat. Your number would be dialled first.”

“And if you feel you’re in danger... and I had to take my life for it, I will.”

“Shut up, Dima. You’re not dying, and when I’m still here, nothing would ever happen to you. Never.” Vasili looks at Dimitri and sets his cap and uniform. “That would be betrayal. That I kept a promise and you still decided to give your life for me.”

“But at least it’s better than a betrayal of trust.” Dimitri mentions something that did hold weight to Vasili’s thoughts. But he was curious about something else so he asked ahead before he could leave.

“Besides, did General Charkov call you in too?” Vasili asked, as Dimitri wipes off his tears as he responds. “Did you do something mischievous, instead?”

“No uhm, I wanted to have a conversation with him... maybe I’d talk about your leave and the new steps that I might have to follow while being in your shoes.”

“Oh, that’s currently necessary. You may take your leave, Major.” He saluted Belikov before departing, and so did Dimitri in return. As they both started to walk in the directions they were supposed to, Vasili slightly turned around to check on Belikov, and saw him fumbling with something in his hand before shoving it into his pocket and leaving a trace. Though Vasili didn’t really pay attention to it, and the scene ends to black when he exits.

Translations: Otlichno — amazing, Zamolchi — shut up/shut your mouth, Moy brat — my brother

Tagging: @deeptrashwitch @islandtarochips @alypink (or if you want to be included, send me a DM!)

[ladysouthpaw1213]

Belladonna Aesthetic

“I pulled you outta that hell. I pieced you back together. You’re mine, Bell. Your memories, your past-it all belongs to me.”

Aesthetic board for @djloveyou3000’s Fic Belladonna.(check it out by the way if you are into more darker AdlerBell works).

Link to Chapter 1 of fic: click

[whisperingexecutioner]

Rosemary's Masterlist

{a.k.a WhisperingRaven}

Hello friends, here's a list of some fics I've wrote, neatly comprised and with easier mobile readability for your enjoyment ;3

Call of Duty

''Storm'' (Stitch Drabble)

''Sweater Weather'' (Stitch x Park )

''The Little Zookeeper'' (Stitch x Female!Reader AU NSFW)

''Black Ops Cold War One-Shots'' (Various NSFW)

''The Ghost of You'' (Vladimir Makarov drabble)

''A Guilty Pleasure'' (Vladimir Makarov x Female!Reader NSFW)

''What once was, can never be'' (OG Vladimir Makarov drabble)

''Like A Moth To A Flame'' (Vladimir Makarov x Female!Ikran Reader and Ikran!Vladimir x Female Reader NSFW)

Beautiful Light

''Confrontation'' (Juggernaut x Female!Reader SFW / NSFW)

Resident Evil

''Resident Evil One-Shots'' (Various NSFW)

Hellboy

''Restless Stranger'' (Karl Ruprecht Kroenen x Female!Reader)

The Thing

''It Had To Be You'' (Sam Carter x Female!Reader NSFW)

More to be added eventually, check my Ao3 page for more frequent updates.

As always, thank you for reading! 💖❤️💝

[isawas-here]

I kinda wanna write a cod fanfic but who should I do??

[simp4konig]

Hii! So I’m new in the Call of Duty fandom but I don’t play the games like on the ps5, etc… I only play Call of Duty on my phone and I got addicted and began digging deeper so here I am! Since I don’t/can’t play the different games of cod do you recommend any channels on youtube that does an amazing walkthrough of the games? I really really want to watch some walkthroughs but I don’t know whats the order of watching each game?? Does each game connect to each other? I’m still kind of confused since I’m still new😅😅. I’m sorry to disturb you though but I hope you can help me😭

To summarise before I go on a useless tangent and ramble needlessly, here are short answers for your questions:

Yes, the games are related. Modern Warfare 1+2+3 are chronological, and are the same story with the same characters. Similarly, it is widely believed that the Black Ops series + Cold War take place in the same timeline as Modern Warfare. I know for certain that Cold War is connected to MWI+II+III because Captain Price is a playable character in multiplayer, and the Black Ops series mention the same villains.

There is no particular chronological order in terms of a greater narrative, however, if you want to understand the story of Modern Warfare, watch walkthroughs of MWI, MWII, and finally MWIII. Black Ops has its own series so if you want to watch those too, you can, however you won't be missing major plot points in Modern Warfare if you choose not to. Cold War is in the same timeline as Modern Warfare, but you won't be missing major plot points in Modern Warfare either if you choose not to.

My advice: Watch game walkthroughs (I would recommend at least once, even in 2x speed, just so you know the general gist of the lore).

Watch COD compilations (trust me, there's LOADS) that are 10–20 mins long, and feature the most iconic scenes in the game back-to-back so you aren't missing anything

Dont resd this if you dont want to!!!vvv it's long and its just me sympathising with you becsude im in the same situation 💀💀... Vvvvvvv

... LMAO IM THE WORWT PERWON TO ASK BECUASE I CANT PLAY THE GAMES EITHER DJDJDJDJDJSJSJSJSJJSJS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Played MW and MWII, theold versions only💔And i DONT hsve a PS5 EITHER so i csnt play the remasyers/reimagines, neithet can my parents justify buying the games just to hage a 100gb game on our PS4😫😫 were in this together anon,... 😓

I mostly have been going on youtube and tyoing out "MW 2019 walkthrough" and "MW2 2022 walkthrough" to see wheyher the plot has chsnged so i can keep up to daye and understand whay the fandom is on about !! Since ive plaued the older remasters , i watch these in like 1.75 speed or even just skip parts bc i already kniw what's gonna haooen mostly 😙✌️ but any scenes that im like "WOAH wtf is this i dint rmeebrt this happening🤨" I watch them 10–20min compilations of certain charwcyer moments 😌 Because i honestlu do NOT hsve the time to watch a whole ass 9–12h video in multiple sittings, i have homework and studyijg to be doing‼️‼️

And fir my headcannond/fanfictions , "[insert character here] voicelines" so i can understand the characyer thru their voicelines (like König and Krueger), as well as seeing their skins and backstories on theit respevtive wikis, googling their respectivr countries, ajd builfing my vision of these by also reading OTHER people's headcannons/fanfictions !! If you were to resd my oldest works, youd see thay my König was the fanon König, but as ivr gotten more used to writing him and changing my perception of his character+personality, you can tell how how i write for him has slowly developed 🙌

i feel like a hypocritetelling u to watch MWIII tho because neitjer have i plaued it NOR watched a walkthru bc my fav characters DIE and i dont wanna put myself thru that just yet😇 obviously, with MWIII remaster here, i think ill hage to soon ....

Im honoufed u chode yo ask ME of sll people !!☺️❤️❤️❤️... So im sorfy i couldnt be more useful ☹️💔💔💔

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

FICMAS - DAY 11 - MAKING CHRISTMAS DINNER

Title: The Bird

Synopsis: You, Johnny, and Simon all make Christmas dinner together

Warnings: Uh.. none? Simon and Johnny argue, though!

AN: Writing in the morning is a fucking fever dream.

"Comin' up behind you," Simon's voice grumbles out, passing by you with the lovely carved turkey. Johnny's at the table, currently skinning potatoes to mash them, you're making some form of casserole.

"L.T., what're ye seasonin' the bird with?" Johnny calls from the other side of the kitchen, causing Simon to scoff.

"Salt, pepper, rosemary. You know I can cook, Johnny."

This is the first Christmas you, Johnny, and Simon will all be hosting in your new house. It's a little unnerving.

"Simon," you mumble out, shaking your head, "Behave."

Johnny smirks at you both, then looks back down, going back to skinning potatoes.

You keep stirring the vegetables, getting ready to put them in with the other items for the dish.

You look back to Johnny, who is now washing the potatoes one more time before putting them into a stock pot of water and letting them boil, salting the water.

He massages his temple, turning to Simon, "Sim'n I swear to god if ye don' get the bird on soon I'll serve you fer instead," he grumbles, as Simon glares him down and bends over, opening the oven and finally putting the turkey in the oven. He turns back to Johnny, an unamused expression on his face.

"It's in the oven, now what, *Johnny?*" He asks with a sneer, causing you to roll your eyes and turn your head back to look at them.

"Simmer down, Simon. You know he needs the oven, too," you chide, letting out a sigh.

"Wha'ever," Simon grumbles, stepping back and going to do whatever he needs.

You massage your temple, taking a deep breath and sighing it out. Then you walk off to get yourself busy, something has go help more than nothing.

It takes two hours before the dinner is ready, just in time for everyone to get there.

You set the table with Johnny, occasionally he grazes past you just to grab your ass. Simon gets the food on the table, his footsteps silent, his eyes brooding again.

It causes you pause, and you grab Simon's shoulder, turning him aside.

"Si? What's wrong?" You ask, concern on your features.

Simon scoffs, "Fine. Jus' needa momen'," he says shortly, walking off to the porch.

This is what really concerns you. You go to Johnny, wrapping an arm around his bicep, "John.." you mumble, "Simon's pissed..."

you both go out to find Simon smoking a cigarette, a hardened expression on his face.

Johnny comes up next to Simon and sits on the railing, and you lean against it on his other side, essentially blocking him in.

He huffs out a plume of smoke, "Yes?" He grumbles out, clearly unhappy about the position he's in.

"What's wrong, Si?" You ask, hand reaching to his shoulder.

"Nothin'," he mumbles, glaring at the sky, brooding.

"Lyin's a sin," Johnny smirks, making Simon scoffs.

"Suddenly we're Saints," he says bitterly, glaring up at Johnny.

Johnny sighs, smirk falling off his face, "I came 'ere t'tell you I'm sorry, LT," he says bluntly, crossing his arms.

Simon sits up, and Johnny continues, "I shouldn't'd acted like a cunt li' 'at. I' was wrong. I'm sorry."

This makes Simon stop brooding and make and look up at Johnny, that anger in his eyes dissipating.

"And I'm sorry if it seemed like I didn't care," you add on, your thumb rubbing circles on his shoulder.

He massages his temple, putting his cigarette out in his ashtray and looking at you both.

"It's fine," he mumbles out, making Johnny scoff and hop of the railing to go infront of Simon.

He crosses his arms again, "Is it fine, though? Ye seem.. tense."

Simon huffs, "No' tense. Just stressed. Everyone we know is in our home."

You look sympathetic, Johnny moving and hugging Simon. You go to his head, kissing his forehead and stroking his hair.

"We got this.. it's okay.." you say to him softly, "We'll go, serve everyone dinner, eat whatever John and his wife brought for dessert... then we'll go to bed. It's okay, Si."

Simon scoffs, holding onto Johnny, "'M a bloody sniper. I shouldn' feel this much fea' over nothin'."

You hold one of his hands, "Fear is normal. It's a lot of people," you respond gently.

"C'mon, LT, let's all go'n an' get dinne' goin'," Johnny says, pulling back. Simon takes a deep breath, and nods.

You, and Simon, and Johnny all walk back in, and get dinner on.

[blerbdrops]

main intro post

hi, i’m bowie and welcome to my writing blog. here i am going to write lots of things! reader inserts, fanfiction, stuff about my ocs, and whatever else i feel like. i am here to chill and have a good time so i hope you are too.

that being said i am disclosing my boundaries with you all; things i will write, things i won’t write, the fandoms i’ll write for, et cetera. i do take requests every so often, but i will also be writing for me.

TOPICS + THEMES YOU MIGHT SEE ME WRITE: 

angst

fluff

smut

hurt/comfort

violence

NSFW/18+ content

au’s

slice of life

oc/canon ships

oc/oc ships

FANDOMS + CANON CHARACTERS I CAN WRITE FOR: 

mass effect: andromeda - ryder + crew, reyes vidal (other characters available on req)

the last of us (show only at the moment) - joel miller, tommy miller

jojo’s bizarre adventure - there are so many characters. don’t ask me to write smut of any characters that are minors. 

call of duty black ops: cold war - adler, lazar, park, sims, bell, mason, woods

rwby -  again, there are so many characters. don’t ask me to write smut of any characters that are minors.

stranger things - billy, steve, eddie, robin, nancy, jonathan, joyce, hopper

DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME + TOPICS I WILL NOT WRITE:

incest

pedophilia

rape + noncon

necrophilia

cheating / love triangles

minor/adult ships

real life people + celebrities

don’t ask me to write none of that. i will block you and go about my merry day.

to see what i’ve written so far, click here.

[ladysouthpaw1213]

as of today, i started to branch my Call of Duty headcannons,stories,etc(save for aus)into Timelines and will separate them from here

Bad Ending Timeline-Follows the Bad ending of Suffer with me and leads into Black Ops 6 and goes from there

Good Ending Timeline-Follows the Good ending of Suffer with me and 1990-1991 plays out differently due to Hudson and Alex being Alive(our heroes don’t get framed for one thing due said survival) and goes from there

Cold War Timeline-Doesn’t follow into Black Ops 2 and just follows it own path

Ambiguous Timeline-Can be set in either of the three timelines(Mostly Good Ending Timeline or Cold War Timeline)

helps me when I’m reading fanfiction or looking at fanart as I tend to think too much into it and feel melancholic as I know what await the characters in 1989-1991(I know I know canon divergence and I can just pretend/ignore it but it’s kinda hard right now). Maybe because I’m just used to it being open ended after Cold War and always speculation about my main ship’s future post game

how about you guys?

[animefreak1145]

What Could Never Be (Adler x Bell!Reader x Stitch)

Sequel

Summary: You’re a sniper hidden in the trees meters away from the meeting of Stitch and Adler in front of the grave.

It’s time you choose.

Warnings/Tags: Trauma, Recovery from Trauma, Mental Anguish, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Major Character Death, Post!Solovetsky, Post-Canon, Bell!Lives, Implied Sexual Content, COD:BOCW Season 6 Outro Spoilers

Words: 9.1k

You saw the helicopter when it landed, several meters away from your disguised camouflaged  form within the high sky reaching trees of Russia. You kept your eyes on the scope, able to see with the zoomed in and the well equipped sniper you had within your hands. You moved the scope away from the helicopter before anyone got out and back to where Stitch stared at the grave site.

Perhaps you were imagining things. But there was something strange about how Stitch’s shoulders looked from where you were. Almost resigned. Accepting. But that can’t be right.

He must be wishing to put on a final show, you thought. Stitch can say what he wishes but he does have some appreciation for theatrics. 

Different from Perseus. You wonder even now what the man would say. Your once friend and superior, your confidant. Stitch wonders the same you’re sure. You do not presume to know about what Perseus would think, but you can see that Stitch has gone quite far. For the Perseus Collective. Not quite as devastating as it could’ve been if you didn’t ruin Perseus’s plans for Europe, but a blow nonetheless. Just as dangerous.

You can admire that at least. You never have been surrounded by stupid men.

Perhaps you should’ve, you tell yourself as you move your scope, your heart thundering as you looked for the form only for your breath to hitch when you found it. Him.

Adler.

You flexed your jaw, seeing Mason pat Adler’s shoulder before setting him off. Alone. To Stitch. 

You wanted to spit at the foolishness, almost shaking your head but you could only watch as Adler drew nearer to Stitch. 

Through comms, you heard Stitch say your name calmly—the old one, the true one that never felt quite the same no matter what he did or say or what the others could do. As if he could sense your trepidation from where he was at only to begin to turn when Adler came upon him with his pistol in hand.

Your finger twitched, moving towards the trigger as you watched and heard the interaction through comms. Your teeth being gritted and brows heavily furrowed and your heart feeling as if it would burst out of your chest from how fast it was going.

This was it.

Recompense.

A chance.

Redemption.

Seeing the man, hearing his voice—it brought memories. Too many. Despite Stitch finding you bleeding on the cliffs and Perseus and him deprogramming you, it did not take away the memories. Of Vietnam. All of them. Not just Fracture Jaw. You can close your eyes and see it being played, sometimes you even dreamed of it. Of claps to the shoulders and back, of teases from Sims and you doing the same about his magazines with Adler doing the same, of talks on the beaches, of trading of rations and eyes the color of the Arctic sea with it’s clearness winking at you to hush. For others to not get ideas he’s not spoiling you. The ways you would have his back like he always did yours. Of coughing harshly at trying a cigarette of his and him and the squad laughing at you and your face.

But you knew how to smoke. Stitch told you after he offered you one when you were recovering from your wounds.

“As if you were a chimney that only swallowed instead of expel,” the man would say in reference to how many packs you used to smoke, a tease in his tone and a fondness you couldn’t give back. You couldn’t remember. Only what you knew. Vietnam. The safehouse. The cliffs. Stitch seemed to tell when you were troubled by that, because he would hush you quietly, and carefully putting an arm around your shoulder and whispering vengeance to your ears. “The Westerners will pay, zaya. Adler will get justice for what he’s done. Just rest.”

Zaya. зая. Little rabbit.

They must’ve been close. But you don’t remember. Only what you know. And what you know has made you trust anyone very little. You didn’t think you could trust anyone again.

Adler’s words haunted you. The last words especially. Calling you a hero. But it wasn’t so. You were a pawn, nothing more. No one will know your name—what you did for Adler’s country. Only Adler does. The CIA. Even than, what was done to you, it was only told to certain people within the organization. Others will thank Adler for what he did. Stopping the nukes. Stopping the destruction and murders of millions of people. 

You were quiet with the others. Perseus would visit you if it wasn’t Stitch. And if not Stitch, it was this woman called Portnova. She said you used to be legend within the KGB when you worked with them. You don’t remember, no matter what they say. Perseus looking at you sadly yet with grim determination while Stitch seemed to be at a loss and only grew angrier. Not at you. He never did despite his harsh appearance. At everything else. Adler especially.

You didn’t know what to do.

You stopped these people from killing millions, but they were. . .kind to you. Patient. Even with your nightmares that were more night terrors as you screamed and yelled about red door’s and jungles and needles and T.V.’s. Perseus did not let any television be near you if you walked around the large safehouse or any other they went to after your recovery, and if there were, they always had to be on. Stitch didn’t let others hold you down if they had to give you medicine through a poke, a deadly glare and hiss if they tried. Knowing you hated being trapped or stopped in any form. You at first even had trouble with blankets being over you—feeling as if they were choking you, gripping you, like a firm touch to your jaw and you would sometimes hallucinate and see suede shades for walls above you when you awoke.

They aren’t good. Not what you know of the word, at least the you now.

But they were kind. To you.

And that was what made you conflicted.

They weren’t good but they were kind.

The others were good but they were liars.

Adler would kill you if he knew you were alive. You knew he would. Because that’s what he tried to do the first time. Missing just by an inch.

“A miracle, you’ve always been one.” Perseus said at the news, much later when you were almost fully recovered and were at a loss on what to do as the Russian man smiled kindly at you, the lines on his face apparent when he did it. “Since I happened to find you all those years ago. Alone by a gulag and wishing to get supplies just to get by. Looking as if you were a rat that went for a swim in a dumpster. Your round eyes looking at me like I was insane. Perhaps you were more a mouse.”

You were alone. You felt like you always were. In one way or another. It explained a lot.

Your loyalty.

Why you would kill millions for one and save millions for another.

You were dangerous.

You do not know it was more then or more now when you are at a loss on whose side you’re on now.

When Perseus said that though, you couldn’t help but disagree. You think the world just wants you to suffer. Suffer from surviving Arash. Surviving torture. Brainwashing. Barely escaping Volkov. Almost dying in Cuba. Again in Solovetsky. Only to suffer once more from a bullet to the chest. Overlooking the pretty horizon as you slowly bled out and eyes squinting against the sun and green grass stained red along with the flowers moving with the cold arctic wind.

Perseus only strengthened his words more, after cursing both Arash for his traitorous ways and for Volkov for not informing him about you immediately.

“You’re a survivor. You’ve always been.” He said, comforting hand to your shoulder as you could only stare. Throat oddly tight as he looked down at you kindly, a small smile under his mustache. “You’re the best out of all of us. Why do you think you were my second?”

You do not think he solely meant your skill set.

He soon added that he believes Adler saw the same. And used you for it. The way you were. Your perseverance and loyalty. With false bonds and lies.

You kept silent. Throat only getting tighter and eyes strangely feeling pressured.

It was true. Vietnam was fake. No matter what you saw when you slept.

But the safehouse.

The safehouse. 

You went through every moment within that place the time you were with Perseus and recovering. Them not pushing you to go back to work for them. They had others that could do what you could. But they would remind you that you were always the best. Thanks to that, you played back everything. What was lies. Half lie. Half truth. And if there were any truths to begin with. 

It always got muddy with Adler. 

Even when you were with them, after a moment with Adler in the safehouse, you would needlessly analyze the interaction and scrutinize it. What he said. What he didn’t say but you can see something between the lines he wants you to read. Wanted you to read. How he would stare at you. All moments when they didn’t mention Vietnam or another event that Adler would say happened but you just don’t remember cause of your accident—just speaking. About anything. Indulging your wants with the camera. Indulging your reading. You realized you loved him from those moments, a book in your hand and an Ernest Hemingway quote on your lips of days that will ever be while he had his cigarette in hand and his shoulder to your back to lean over you and a wry tone matching his words “Here’s to the other shitty days to come and all the wars that comes with it, kid.” You don’t know why that sentence of all things made you realize your heart was battering against your ribs for a reason. Maybe it was how he said it, how his breath on your neck and hair felt, his scent that’s all nicotine and masculine cologne—maybe it was because in his own way he finished the quote and the fact he knew the quote in the first place to summarize it so well. A soldier tired of wars but expecting them either way. Maybe it was all of that. 

Still.

You do not understand these moments. No matter how you try to look at it.

You just know your chest weighed heavily each time you thought on it, and you thought often.

It was months after recovery, your Russian accent slowly coming back and mixing with your American one, you awakening from a nightmare due to Stitch waking you up with a certain look in his eyes as he called your name that you don’t feel is yours.

“You were calling for his name.” At your questioning glance, Stitch just continued to stare at you. Almost assessing. “Adler,” he spat. “Tell me, zaya, did he make you love him too?”

You didn’t know how to answer. Only staring at your lap but that’s all Stitch needed because he quickly stood up and paced and cursed and fists clenching and muscles tensing.

You watched as he did and something seemed to click.

“We weren’t just friends, were we?” Stitch stopped, head bowed and and back facing you. You tried to think back once more, but you came out blank. Only little flashes of something, of hands and stray touches but that could be anything. “I. . . I’m sorry. I—I don’t remember.”

He just turned towards you, moving slowly and his shoulders appearing slouched as he sat next to you with a chair by your bed. His eyes crinkled sadly, and he brought a hand up, almost ghosting over your cheek and you let him. Almost entranced at how soft his face could be, even with one blind eye.

“Do not apologize, mon zaya. Perhaps with time.”

You don’t think so. MK—Ultra is powerful. Even with deprogramming, it only worked getting rid of the trigger phrase. You don’t think you’ll ever get your memories back. Stitch knows it too. But he said the white lie anyways. You wonder if it was more for him than you.

The time came, a month later that the woman you know as Kitsune came to you and gave you a folder with an arched brow. You staring at her in mild confusion before opening the folder and you seeming to freeze, as Kitsune said they need your help and they wouldn’t have asked if they didn’t. You recall pressing your lips, your mind whirring with decisions and plans for those decisions that was always in the back of your mind as you stayed with them.

To save.

Or revenge.

You chose. And worked on codes and decoding. Even when Stitch gave you an out, his hand to your shoulder but close to cupping your neck gently as he stared down at you that you didn’t have to do this. You remember swallowing thickly before strengthening your resolve and sticking with it. His lone eye seemed to glitter and gleam with soft pride and an emotion you can’t give, but your heart quickened all the same. As if recognizing—remembering for you.

It was when Perseus got diagnosed, that you felt like you were faltering. The man slowly just kept staying in bed and say the orders there—meetings as he laid and looked pale and lost his hair. The old man still would smile at you even in pain and you didn’t even realize you were crying by his side until he shushed you and put a hand to your head as you sobbed.

“Come now, radnaya, it’s alright.” He said, even with trembling hands he would comfort you and clear your tears. Still with that kind smile. Your chin wobbled. “I do wish I was like you now, however. I imagine you would survive this. If only I was a miracle like you. My dirty little mouse that believed in me.”

“You’ll survive this,” you blubbered between sniffles and you didn’t even notice Stitch came into the room until he put his hands on your shoulders, as if to ground you. “Y-you can. . .you shouldn’t speak like you’ll die. You can’t.” You stated without thinking. You weren’t thinking at all. You always felt strongly, your eyes pleading as you grabbed Perseus’s hand between your own as you pleaded with the older man seeming to share a glance over your head to Stitch. “Please. I—I don’t, I don’t remember anyone else. Anything else.”

You don’t remember your own father’s face.

You don’t even know if you had one.

But you know Perseus was the closest you could ever get.

Perseus smiled. And squeezed your hands and brought them to his lips to kiss the back of them.

Stitch took you away after that and a few hours later, your father figure was gone. You didn’t think about how the man was the one who Adler has been obsessed with for more than a decade. How Adler will never get the chance to do the deed himself, never get the satisfaction. How he got rid of you, at least hoping to, to make sure Perseus couldn’t get someone like you again. You didn’t think about how Adler might look at finding out about Perseus and how you would feel about that until later. 

No.

You were hurting. You were in pain.

And Stitch was too despite how he tried to hide it as he held your sobbing form to his chest. That’s all you thought about, until a possible reprieve formed in your mind as Stitch’s hands caressed your back in comfort, up and down to your shoulders and even tickling your neck. You moved your head to stare up at him, your eyes meeting his and something flashed within them and you took your chance.

You stretched upwards, thankful he had his mask off for once, and kissed him with your hand to the back of his neck and the other to his chest. He groaned in your mouth, in a mix of thankful need and almost as if it said finally as he easily wrapped his arms around your waist. Stitch kissed you as if you would disappear in front of him and you guess in a way that did happen already, only for him to pull back, a hand to gently on your chin. His eyes scanning your face before understanding took over at what you want. That you still didn’t remember.

“Is this what you wish, mon zaya?”

You barely let him finish, kissing him again before you started dragging him to your room only for him to take lead instead to his. “More privacy,” he said to your ear, breath on you before kissing it. Him laying you down on his bed and over you as he kissed you everywhere and hands wandering as you pushed his hood off him along with his many layers to feel his chest. “I missed how you taste. Mon zoya. So strong. Even after everything.”

You don’t feel strong. Just tired. Always tired.

But the sweet words helped, the few ones he would do to your ears outside of his quiet sounds that came from his chest more than his throat.

When you laid your head atop his bare chest, under sheets, you wonder what you’ve done. But. You’re tired. You’re in pain. And Stitch—despite everything—is kind and gentle and soft to you. You couldn’t help but selfishly keep it.

And so it kept happening, Stitch as the new Perseus, and you still creating codes and more codes and backup codes and decoding and decoding in various forms as time went on. You and Stitch now together, and the Collective seemed happier with it. Almost like everything was back to normal.

You don’t remember normal.

Stitch’s plans were in the making and he didn’t want you to help, barely answering your questions when you heard about the Numbers and somehow Adler’s name being brought up. Stitch only kissing your forehead and telling you your time would come later for the Westerner that did this to you. That he shall have his turn for now.

You found out later what occurred, due to Portnova and Kitsune. Stitch brainwashed Adler.

Brainwashed Adler.

You couldn’t help it, you laughed. A full guffaw towards the sky and hand to your mouth as if to stifle it but you could not help it.

Stitch was not kidding about justice.

Still. You worried.

About what?

At this point, you’ve accepted you’ll never truly know anything again. Especially your own feelings.

You kept coding and decoding, but mostly coding. Always coding. Codes in newspapers and obscure articles, a stray TV channel. You did it.

Verdansk happened. The explosion.

Your lips formed to a wry humorless smile at Adler’s work even when brainwashed. Even that can be seen as funny.

So obsessed with the mission—to stop Perseus—that his brain rewired itself to achieve it.

You remembered his words to you, after you asked him more on what he meant that Hudson doesn’t trust what he couldn’t control. Adler seemed to throw you a smirk as his brow arched, smoke billowing out from his mouth as he sat on his desk and you sat in front of him.

“Trust, kid, is all about control. Remember that.”

You didn’t forget. 

You feel a little jealous though. You wish you were able to rewire yourself.

You then get the call from Stitch, to head to Verdansk. That it’s time.

You checked over your codes and sent them before nodding to yourself, and leaving. It was not only you however, Naga came along too. In the forest of Verdansk. You put a hand on the tombstone, as if you could feel Perseus’s hand instead but you didn’t. Just stone. Hard. Cold. You lowered your hand and left to your position, Naga doing the same when you glanced towards him. Stitch coming and just waiting in front of the grave.

And now you’re here, trigger on your finger and eyes on the Russian and American as they spoke which you could hear through comms. Stitch explaining what Perseus really was. 

Adler, as you thought, wasn’t having it.

“You’re coming with me,” he quietly commanded, but with all the calm authority he always exudes even though he appears he’s seen better days. His wheat hair mussed and wounds upon his face and person everywhere but his arm up with the pistol steady. Always steady. And looking at Stitch in the eyes. “There’s blood on your hands.”

“Are your hands clean, Bell?”

You felt your face wince but Stitch threw his own retort, about what Adler did in his brainwashed state. What he did to Verdansk.

Adler scowled.

“Fuck you!” His hand tightened around the pistol and you felt sweat gather on your temples, feeling cold as you bit the inside of your cheeks and lips. You tightened your hold on the sniper as well. “I wasn’t in my right mind. You saw to that.”

Stitch chuckled lowly, amused and uncaring as he moved with Adler’s pistol not wavering. 

“You Westerners. . . so squeamish. Look at where we are. This was the Eastern Front. The blood of millions,” Stitch stressed, motioning and pointing his finger down upon the ground, ”of my people so deep in this soil. Men and women, who paid the ultimate price for what had to be done.”

You bit your cheek harshly, you tasting blood as your finger twitched on the trigger. You taking a quick glance to where you knew Naga was. 

“You’re a fucking monster.” America’s Monster growled out in your comms, your eyes back through your scope as your breathing felt short and your hands under your gloves felt sweaty. “I should kill you for what you’ve done. For what you did to me.”

Ah. There’s the answer than.

You took a steadying breath, staring at these two powerful men through your weapon. Before quickly moving the scope to see the helicopter and where the others were that left Adler alone in the first place, seeing they seem meters away as well from where Adler and Stitch were. You felt sweat come down your neck and temple as you closed your eyes. The world seeming to slow.

“My life no longer matters,” you heard Stitch say sorrowfully. You wonder. . . Your eyes opened, moving the scope back to them but you farted your eyes back towards Naga, trying to spot him through the camouflage. The hooded man turned and let his back face Adler as the scarred man drew closer, his lips pressed together the way they always did when focused. “Do what you will.” You took the safety off as Stitch’s hand slowly rose, and you moved the silenced sniper and took aim, your finger squeezing as Stitch did the signal by touching his blind eye and trees rustled in the wind. “Finish what you started on Rebirth Island. My broadcast is complete.” Stitch wasn’t sorrowful. He sounded resigned. Your chest heaved and your heart battered as you moved once more, licking your lips and putting your eye to the scope. Hand slightly shaking around your weapon but you held your breath. “I have changed the world, Adler. In ways you can’t even imagine. . .”

Your finger squeezed just like your heart did. 

You slumped your body against the tree just like a body fell, your eyes closing as you hit your head against the trunk. 

“What the fuck?” You heard through your comms, your lips twitching at Adler’s bewildered tone. It sounded funny when he’s confused. “A sniper. . .”

You heard Adler’s steps walk past with the comms until you couldn’t hear anymore. You sighed, shoulders slumped as you waited. Maybe if you just stayed quiet and didn’t move an inch, you can live out your days in trees that almost touched the sky.

You smiled at the thought.

You heard noise from below, your eyes moving downward as you saw Adler moving and looking at the trees with his gun out. Your smile turned sad.

No, you think as you watch the man who’s plagued your mind for years, the world isn’t that kind to me. It never has been.

You dropped the sniper purposefully, it landing on the ground with a harsh thunk from the height. Adler immediately turning himself and his gun towards it before his eyes slowly lifted to where you were as you took the foliage off you that helped hide you. Eyes that were harsh ice widened and cleared.

“Bell?” 

You barely heard the name, him almost seeming to say it to himself in disbelief. It didn’t help you were quite high up. You’re surprised you heard it at all.

You swiped away any remaining foliage, staring down at Adler with a passive quirk of the lips.

“Hey, Adler.”

At your words, he seemed to shake himself. His eyes back to hard as he kept his gun on you. Another thing you expected. Along with his sharp tone.

“How are you alive?”

“I’m breathing,” you answer, nonplussed.

“Still a little shit, I see.” Adler retorted blandly before his expression maintained its stoicism as he analyzed you and your uniform, eyes narrowing at the patch you had. “You crawled back to Perseus when you got a second chance? No—you’re fucking third chance?”

“I couldn’t do much crawling when I’m bleeding out,” you clipped from above, before you reigned it back in. You rather not fight. Not now. Despite. . .everything. “They found me. Specifically. . . Stitch did. If you wanted to kill me, you should’ve kicked me over the cliff for good measure. I’m here because of you.”

Adler stared up at you, then glanced at your sniper than towards the direction of where Stitch’s body laid. His pistol didn’t lower as he moved his hawkish gaze back towards you. His mind seemed to whir and you could tell because he didn’t have his shades on. You could see him now. 

“. . .it was you. You sent the messages.”

You snorted at his slow realization, unamused. Adjusting yourself on the branch by laying your arm against your bent knee.

“Lot of good that did. You got tricked by the Nova 6 bait anyways.”

“Our decoder had to leave,” Adler excused with a frown. “It’s not like you made the messages easy to decipher.”

“I couldn’t! The various things I had to do to make sure I didn’t get caught, from fake codes to real ones to the ones I sent to you—don’t blame me because the CIA is horrendous at analytics and linguistics of all forms.”

“You’re a genius, kid. Don’t blame others because you’re better.”

The compliment threw you for a moment, you blinking at him and how easily he said it as his arms slowly lowered and his pistol was to his side but still tense.

You frowned before glancing away.

“Doesn’t matter. It seems the lot of you were able to get the message on specifically where in Verdansk Stitch was going to be.”

“Lot of good that did. You couldn’t let me do the deed, Bell?” You didn’t answer, your frown only deepening. Adler squinted up at you. “What made you do that anyways? And was what Stitch true or was he just spouting shit to sound ideological? That grave too.”

“I had to do it. And. . .it’s true. Perseus was never one man. Never will be. Another one will pop up after Stitch. The one you knew as Perseus though—the one we both knew as Perseus, is laying in that grave.” You say, an iota of solemn in your tone.

Adler’s expression darkened, his fists clenching as he cursed to himself before his eyes narrowed as they turned back towards you suspiciously.

“You were close.” You didn’t say anything, just stared down at Adler and met his piercing gaze. “I know the two of you were. How much did you do for Perseus, Bell? What was his plans?”

“I didn’t do much,” you answer carefully, eyes inscrutable. “I was recovering from my wounds in the cliff and after that I was recovering from the effects of MK-Ultra.” Adler’s expression didn’t change, so you just continued as you sighed. “They didn’t wish me to push myself, after everything. They—one day I just got a folder and I was back to coding again. But,” you say immediately when Adler’s expression seemed to harden, “that was when I decided to do the secret codes to the CIA in secret. They only gave me small jobs either way. Only coding. They. . .they just didn’t want to push me. And what Stitch said was what they basically want.”

You wanted to be careful with your wording. Your feelings are complicated when it comes to the Collective and you don’t need Adler catching it and using it. He did though.

Based on how his lips almost seemed to curl.

“Seems you had nice caring friends, Bell. The homicidal friendly aura’s grew on you?”

Your eyes narrowed, anger rising.

“I don’t expect you to understand!” You thought of what Perseus did for you, with the televisions. How patient he was. You thought of Stitch, his protectiveness when it came to your medicine in needle form and wouldn’t let anyone get too close to hold you all of a sudden where you felt like you would choke. Your eyes grew teary. “You—you out of all people wouldn’t. What they do, their plans—all of it—it’s horrible. I know that! But. . .they were kind to me. Even after everything I did for you, they didn’t care. They just wanted to help me—“

“To use you.” Adler cut in firmly. “You’re a genius, Bell. You got some talent to have the skill set you have—but your coding is where you always shined. They were manipulating you—“

“They weren’t!” You refuse to hear this. How dare he say this anyways?! “And don’t speak like you weren’t above that either! Pot calling the kettle black much, Adler?!”

“I know what I am.” Adler stated quietly, eyes cool. “Just like you do. But do you know what they are? They don’t care about anyone—just using others for their sick ideology. You’re going to defend them?”

“I’m not defending them!” You shouted, aghast. It’s like everything you’re saying is going one ear and out the other. Adler doesn’t think straight when it comes to Perseus. It’s mind boggling. “They helped me with MK-Ultra, what you did. Do you know how long it took me to get a full night’s rest? How long it still takes? I have your memories of Vietnam. I have memories of needles and televisions and being in the lab. Memories of you making me go through those scenarios over and over and over again. I felt like sometimes I saw you everywhere, even awake. They comforted me and took away any triggers for me and they were there when you—“ you cut yourself off sharply, biting your lip and looking away. 

It was silent for a few moments. You didn’t look at Adler when you slowly began again, you wonder if he could even hear you with how softly you spoke.

“Perseus took away any televisions. And if there were, he would leave them on so I wouldn’t. . .wouldn’t see anything. He didn’t push me to work, this was after almost or basically a year passed with them. And it’s because someone else needed my help. He said I didn’t have to do more. Stitch too. Stitch made sure about needles and people not getting close. They. . .I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember my family. Which is why. . . the safehouse. . .” You bit your lip, than continued. “Perseus I think is the closest father I will ever get. And Stitch. . . Stitch. . .” You trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Adler though, as always, read you easily. 

“He loved you.” Your eyes closed, your lips pressing into a frown as Adler nodded over in the direction of Stitch’s body, you barely hearing his mutter that it explained a few things which made your frown deepen. Did Stitch mention something when he had Adler in Laos? “And you killed him. Did you?”

Does it matter? You wanted to ask, but instead your eyes opened in a half lidded state as you answered tiredly. 

“Trust is about control. I remembered.” 

You didn’t want to, but you did. Or rather, you just chose to. You used Stitch’s feelings for your own selfish reasons. To get you here.

Adler’s eyes seemed to turn unreadable as he tilted his head slightly at you.

“So you understand.”

“What?”

Adler stared at you a moment more before breaking his gaze to the side and staying annoyingly silent. Appearing in thought as the silence stretched and the breeze blew by you due to the height you were at. You taking slow breaths as you clenched a fist on your knee before narrowing your gaze at Adler.

“Don’t torture me with this silence. Do it.”

Adler arched a brow slightly at you as he craned his neck back up to where you were at.

“Do what?”

“Kill me. Finish the job. Tie up the loose end. Just hurry up with it, before Hudson comes.”

Adler rose both his brows at you.

“Why would I do that? You have the most information about Perseus now. About who could be the next one. The people. The next possible plans. Everything. It’d be a waste.”

He won’t stop. Even with him dead.

You felt yourself pale.

“Are you going to torture me?”

“Will I have to?”

You briefly contemplated jumping off the tree. It would be quick. Quicker than anything you’ve gotten. You always seemed to bleed slow or be suffocated slowly. You never got it easy. The jump and fading to black would probably be the easiest thing you will ever have.

“You’re a survivor. You’ve always been.”

You steeled your expression and Adler spotted it, seeing you slowly go down the tree and he put his pistol away when you landed in front of him. His arms by his sides like yours and you having to slightly crane your neck up to meet his gaze. Your eyes remained connected before his moved and roved over your form. You doing the same now that you were closer. 

He still smells like cigarettes, you think fondly and saw all the cuts upon him. How ragged he looked, and how the beard just added to it. So different from how you always saw him, sleek and clean. The hair is still distracting.

Your thoughts halted when Adler reached a hand and ripped out the patch on your shoulder with the Perseus symbol, him glaring at it before throwing it away. It landing on the ground a few feet away from them as you looked at Adler with brows slightly pinched together. He took another look at you and gave you an imperceptible nod, his lips pressed in approval before he shifted his stance and put more pressure on one leg.

Is he injured? You took a closer look at him, spotting his tired eyes before spotting a paler spot in his temple when his hair moved before looking at his arms and noticing a pale spot as well as a spot where it looked he got pricked by his veins. Your brows went up. He’s freshly deprogrammed. And he came here immediately. Is he insane?

Yes. He is.

But you’re no better.

“Why did you do this, Bell?” You blinked from your thoughts, noting that Adler is trying to read you as his eyes squinted more from the sun than anything else. “All of it. Why?”

You feel like he knows.

How far you go for loyalty is no secret.

The bastard just wants you to say it.

You leaned back against the tree, crossing your arms and looking to the side towards the tall trees, the direction of the grave site and a body. You thought of breaks outside the safehouse, of clouds of smoke and talks of philosophy and books. Of curious tilts to the head that makes honey hair shift and the relaxed quirk of the lips as he would listen to you. You pointing at a passage of a book and him leaning over your shoulder to see what makes you passionate, your hair rising when you would feel his breath on you and his scent of nicotine and woody cologne overpower your senses. You thought of after Volkov, him going over your injuries and his fingers grazing a bruise on your temple to your cheek as you felt your breath escape you while he just did the action like it was nothing with that nonchalant expression of his, feeling as if his eyes behind his shades were burning. You thought of amused tones and languid body language when he would tease about your pictures and you’re wasting film but he’d let you anyways. Making sure to always tell you to get his good side if you were going to take some of him.

You thought of your head free from your beanie/ski mask for once, his hand over it and fingers almost carding your hair due to a job well done.

“Same reason I said Solovetsky.”

You felt Adler’s gaze on you intensify, but you kept your gaze away and down as you clenched your hands under your crossed arms.

“Try again,” he said, making you throw him a confused look. Your confusion growing when you spotted his scarred lips twitched upward in amusement and eyes almost seeming to soften. “Anyone ever told you, you have bad taste in men?” Your jaw dropped, cheeks pricking as you stared mortified and his lips lifted more before straightening and taking a step towards you. “You need a better reason than that. Try again.” He implored calmly as he eyed you.

You clicked your jaw shut, still keeping your arms crossed tightly to you as you moved your head against the tree to the side. Before looking back up at him and putting your arms back to your sides.

“Obviously it’s because it’s not right to kill millions. In any way.”

Adler nodded at you, moving to grab your sniper and putting the strap over himself before turning back towards you as you watched him go back to your side.

“Make sure you say that to everyone. Especially Hudson.” 

He started walking back to where the grave site was, you hesitantly doing the same as you tried to catch his eyes again but he kept his gaze forward and seemed to be in thought.

“You’re really not going to kill me?” You stated more than questioned, not knowing what to think.

He threw you a side glance, noticing your unease.

“I told you, kid,” he said, looking away with gaze and tone distant. “It’d be a waste.” You didn’t know what to say in reply, only staring at Adler in hopes his expression can perhaps give away something. Besides appearing in thought and tired yet still have this focused air around him. There’s something you’re missing. What happened to him? Did the brainwashing to him actually open his eyes? Or. . . Did he see things like you did during the deprogramming? “You’re going to follow my lead. I’m sticking my neck out for you so make sure you play along.”

“Why?”

You recognized they were getting closer to the grave site, but you kept your gaze on Adler who hummed distractingly.

“Along the same reasoning as you.” 

Your mouth parted but they arrived at the grave site, Adler putting a tight hand on the tombstone with jaw tight as you crouched to where Stitch’s body laid. Throat tight as you stared at his corpse and the blood upon the ground. You made it quick. You made sure. You wonder if Stitch had an inkling and that’s why Naga was here too. 

He’s with Perseus now. The thought made your lips form into a ghost of a melancholic dry smile. No. That’s not right. 

You closed Stitch’s eyes with your fingerless gloved hands, feeling the coolness already from his body. You heard Adler step behind you.

“Did you know?” At your silence, keeping your eyes on Stitch and the hole on his hood and his head, he continued lowly. “What Stitch did to me. You knew?”

“I only knew afterwards,” you say, standing up and turning towards him only to see that he was quite close to you and we’re almost chest to chest with him as he stared at you. You kept your ground as you swallowed lightly. “Like I said, they wanted me mostly focusing on other things.”

Adler snorted humorlessly, turning his gaze to Stitch’s corpse with a narrowing of his icy eyes.

“You can say it. It was karma for what I did to you. You probably thought it was funny.” His face shifted, eyes darkening as his jaw ticked. “I know I would’ve.”

“You shouldn’t have fallen for the trap,” you say instead of directly answering whether he was right or wrong, face disapproving. “Even without deciphering my message about Nova 6, you shouldn’t have taken a light team. You knew what would happen.”

Like you, Adler avoided to answer. Which was an answer in itself as you sighed, putting a hand to your face as Adler’s eyes turned back towards you. You seeing Adler turning his head over his shoulder towards the grave site and staring at it.

“Did he suffer?”

You stared through your fingers at the grave site, biting your lip as you thought of medicine after medicine being pushed through the older man’s body. How pale he looked. How skinny. Where his speech was more like rasps and breaths.

You nodded. Adler giving a strong nod of his own, eyes vicious at the grave and satisfied.

“Good.”

He turned his head back towards you, noting you seeming to bite your tongue as his hands clenched before turning his back towards you and staring at the grave, shoulders appearing drooped. You deciding to join by his side, arms brushing when you reached him before pulling it back to not touch and just stare at the grave site. 

You wish they put his name but you understood why Stitch and the others decided to not. People would desecrate it. And it’s fitting Perseus at least had his favorite flower on it, the symbol of the flower looking harsh and not as beautiful as the real thing could be but still able to capture one’s eyes to look at the pattern. 

“. . . I saw you too.” 

What? Your eyes darted towards Adler, side eyeing him as he spoke lowly. His eyes were staring at your hands between you two, his pistol long put back in its holster on his leg. Saw? Wait. . .did he also. . .? You noticed the holster was in the same area as it was on the cliff. As it should, it was his dominant side. But you thought of the cliffs anyways. Nonetheless, your expression was one of bewilderment as his eyes didn’t stray. You spotted his lips twitch before he rose his eyes and connected to yours, your breath hitching at your throat when he threw you a soft smirk.

“I dreamed of you too, Bell.” You inhaled sharply, eyes widening before Adler’s expression settled as well as yours as your head darted to sounds ahead. Adler went in front of you, his form able to cover you from who was coming. “Stay behind me. And follow my lead.” He lowly commanded and you followed.

You heard Hudson, Woods, and Mason come up. Seeing Stitch’s body and Hudson saying they were wondering what was taking so long. They didn’t even hear his shot. Woods saying that at least the fucker is dead with Mason adding that there’s few things that’s better than killing the ones who fucked your head. 

Not the right words right now, Mason. You thought, cringing internally. But Adler spoke for you.

“It wasn’t me.”

The others threw him various looks of confusion.

“What the fuck you mean it wasn’t you?” Woods questioned. “He has a hole in his head, doesn’t he?”

“If it wasn’t you,” Hudson asked, always focused and getting the bottom of things, “who was it?”

“Adler,” Mason called, voice tense as he brought his gun slightly up. “Who’s behind you?”

You didn’t move. But Adler slightly did to show you to them, hand moving back behind him to keep on your waist just in case. 

“Wha—?! Bell?!” Woods gasped, almost dropping his gun from shock as Mason’s own eyes widened.

“You’re alive. . .”

You threw them a shaky smile and a wave, before dropping both when you could spot Hudson’s tense form.

“Adler,” Hudson toned lowly, dangerously and making you subconsciously grab Adler’s shoulder to help ground you just as Adler gave your waist a comforting squeeze as you stayed behind. “What is the meaning of this? You said you fucking handled her in Solovetsky but she’s breathing and moving to me. She’s dangerous.”

You don’t miss Hudson’s attitude towards you. Even though you’re aware of why he had it before. You still find it distasteful.

“To others maybe,” Adler replied steadily, but there was a hidden coiled tone underneath as he kept his face unreadable as possible without his shades. “I did say she was the one that killed Stitch. Why do you think that is?”

Adler didn’t wait for Hudson’s probable scathing retort, based on how his face seemed to morph into a scowl, moving to explain he thought it a waste to throw someone of Bell’s talents away. So they both formed a plan, Adler did shoot you but not fatally, and allowed you to go back to Perseus to spy on them for him. At this, Hudson stepped up to Adler. Adler straightening his shoulders and letting you go as Hudson got into his face.

“You gave her back to Perseus. . .?! Were you fucking insane?! I didn’t give you leave on this, Russ—no one did!”

“This is fucking crazy. . .” Mason let out, still looking at you as well as Woods and holding onto their weapons but they were pointed down this time. 

Woods huffed, scratching at his beard and looking at you with an expression that almost looked like one of pity as Hudson kept going but Adler kept his frigid stare on the man.

“She knows fucking everything. She could’ve relayed information to Perseus and the rest while she, what—let you get kidnapped and brainwashed as a gotcha?!”

“I didn’t know about that,” you spoke up, almost wishing you hadn’t when Hudson and all his rage went to you and almost seeming to burn brighter when he looked at you. Adler kept his stare on Hudson but you spot his lips pressed in disapproval. “But I did warn him about everything else. I sent coded messages throughout my time there. How do you think you got that message about coming to these specific coordinates?” Hudson’s hard stare didn’t lessen but his brows did furrow. “I warned him beforehand about the mall and Nova 6 being a distraction but they weren’t able to decipher it—but I know other locations and objectives that Perseus planned and was able to tell you and the ones you were able to decipher, you went towards them. I made sure I found as much information as I could but I kept anything else I learned during my time you guys to myself. And don’t blame Adler. It was my idea.”

Hudson switched his gaze back towards Adler, Adler throwing a look at you over his shoulder but you didn’t falter.

“And you decided to accept this, why?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Hudson, would you calm down?!” Woods put a hand to Hudson’s tense shoulder. “You heard her. All those missions we did was because of messages we couldn’t figure out from who,  right? It was Bell!”

Mason stepped up, giving you a small nod in greeting which you gave back.

“It does check out. All the messages about the prison transport in Miami and even the attacks on a NATO base in Germany last year as well as everything else we got always was right. Who knows what other codes we weren’t able to get because of Bell’s unique skill at coding?”

“That doesn’t excuse it and you know it.” Hudson stated coldly, not keeping his eyes off Adler as your once handler kept the the man’s stare even through his black shades. “You kept this information to yourself all this time and chose to not report it at all. Not even Black, I imagine. And you indulged an asset’s idea.”

“Ignore her. It was my idea. And like I said,” Adler said lowly, quietly where you had to strain your ears to hear as his eyes were hard. “I don’t like wasting talent. She’s the best fucking coder I’ve ever seen and you know it, Hudson. She isn’t just an asset. Not anymore. She’s one of us.”

“You’re still one of us.”

You whipped your eyes towards Adler as Hudson continued talking about something or other with Adler continuing to have your back and defending you, continuing the cover he made and you reinforcing it. You released a small smile, the tension in your shoulders releasing. Seeing that Adler is going to stick with what he said, he’s not going to kill you. And it seems he won’t let anyone else either. The conversation moved to Perseus, Hudson questioning if Adler was able to get answers from Stitch before you shot him. 

Adler scowled.

“Perseus is dead. Look behind you.”

The three men looked at the tombstone, you confirming without them asking that it’s true. The Perseus Adler has been chasing died last year from cancer, and Stitch was the new one. Now another one will come along.

“You happen to know who, Bell?” Mason asked and you shrugged slightly, turning your gaze back towards the trees and your position earlier.

“I think it was Naga.” You heard Adler almost growl the name to himself as you continued. ”He was with us as a backup but I handled him before I got, Stitch. I feel like. . . they had an inkling about me. . . Doesn’t matter now. Naga was close to Stitch when it came to the work—the next Perseus could be anybody.”

“You have a better idea than us,” Woods stated, rolling his shoulder slightly as he looked around before scrunching his nose when his eyes moved back to the grave site. “But you can tell us later. Let’s get out of here. I’ve been here too long already.”

All of you began to move, you stepping up to Adler’s side but Hudson stopped both of you by getting in your paths.

“Don’t think this is over.” Hudson moved his sharp gaze between you and Adler, jaw tight at Adler’s apathetic expression. “You both have a lot of interrogation to do when we get back. Black is going to hear of this.”

“I imagine he will,” Adler replied casually, Hudson giving the man another look before throwing you one of severe judgement and turning away. You released a breath when the man was far away enough you didn’t feel like he could hear you, tension leaving your body only to blink when you felt a touch on your head. You looking at Adler who had his brow up a modicum. “I’m trying to keep you alive. I’ll take the hit, Bell. Don’t worry about it.”

Adler released you, stepping away and going back towards the helicopter with one more lingering glance towards the tombstone as you moved to his side.

“But—“

Adler turned his head towards you, cutting you off with a look.

“I said I got it. Try to rest on our way to the safehouse we have here, it’ll be a long ride.”

You feel like any lingering questions you may have is for later too. Everything that’s happened since they were apart will be spoken about one way or another. All the actions, thoughts. . . maybe even emotions.

“I dreamed of you.”

Later, you decide, getting on the helicopter with Adler’s help and you sitting next to him. Exhaustion hitting you immediately, from guarding in the tree for the longest, to the emotions you couldn’t help but feel when you shot Stitch, to the ones you felt when you spoke with Adler and just everything that’s happened to you since that day on the cliffs. And the reason why. Loyalty. I really am dangerous. 

You fell victim to your exhaustion, head slumping over to Adler’s shoulder despite the noise of the chopper and him letting you when he glanced at your peaceful expression. Giving you a once over that you were strapped on tightly, pointedly ignoring three different gazes on him as he adjusted you more to his shoulder with his hand so you’d be more comfortable. The least he could do.

Adler thought of hallucinations that kept him sane in Laos, of dreams that could never be and nightmares that plagued him, of being inside his own mind while being deprogrammed and who he saw to help him guide him out.

It’s the least he could do. After everything he’s done.

Besides, Adler thought darkly as he took another glance at you and your sleeping face, there’s still Perseus to be dealt with. I’ll fucking rip them from the root. 

One thing is for certain for the two of you, it’s how obsessive the two of you are.

After you awoke and gave report along with Adler to Hudson in the safehouse, and glances being shared between you two or stray touches but nothing further than that the next two days before you shared that they had to go to the WWII bunker in Verdansk due to important information being there that the Collective wanted—Adler nodded.

“Alright, Bell. Like old times. You’re with me.” 

You huffed out your nose at the words but nodded anyways with a grim smile.

“Always, sir.”

Onto the next mission.

.

.

.

A/N: Sorry if this feels rushed, it wasn’t even supposed to be this long. And sorry about the no kiss! Didn’t think it would fit. Bell and Adler need more time for a relationship but I’m sure I planted enough seeds for you guys to fill in the lines yourselves that these two are both insane and obsessed—thankfully in Adler’s case—for each other. (He needs other obsessions. To be healthy. Or healthier.)

Maybe I’ll visit this universe again. Depends what they will do with Vanguard since they merged Adler, Woods, Mason, and Hudson into it somehow 💀

I had more of a fun time writing Perseus and Stitch than I thought. With the recent S6 trailer, my interest with Stitch grew exponentially. I can now see what everyone goes on about with him. That Outro revealed a lot to me about that man. Too bad he’s gone now. :/ And Perseus is nice to write too 💗 This was really fun!

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Tell me if you wish to be tagged or not to be tagged for all my works.

Tags: @parkeepingparker @weirdoartist21 @tr1ppylady @gojocat247 @aurora-windu @holy-crap-i-am-russell-adler @mayaibnlaahad @asaltryefl @writer-of-various @zulema117-blog @stupid-stinky @darlingor @zombiequeennxx @salvija

[onlycodcanjudgeme]

Fic Exchange Friday

Over the past week, you’ve sent us your highlights of fics to show off, and looked forward to reading and reviewing new fics buried deep in the pile of the Cal of Duty fanfic archives. And we have made it our mission to collect and compile them all for your convenience. Now—the moment you have all been waiting for!

Drumroll… 🥁 🪘

The Big Fic Exchange Friday!

available to you by OnlyCODCanJudgeMe

Thank you to everyone who participated in this experimental event! We hope you'll find some new fics to fall in love with, and we’d love to hear if you’re interested in seeing this event again in the future!

Without further ado: please enjoy our masterlist of fanfics galore!

@alidravana

Wednesday Pick Me Up — When the Green Team takes over running the coffee canteen at the Santa Monica base, a particular blonde barista catches Keegan’s eye…and maybe his heart. We Break So Beautiful — An exploration of the importance of touch in Mitchell's and Gideon's continuously evolving relationship. Partners in Crime — AKA 3+1 times Logan was completely oblivious, and the one time even he couldn’t miss the signs in front of him. Waiting on that Morning Sun — While Keegan lays wide awake at night, Logan wrapped around him like a cuddly octopus, he reflects on the changes in his life since Logan Walker appeared in it. The Sky Burns Red — Against all odds, Roach and Ghost make it out of the pit.

@mikk1n

The Plagued Capital — After his death in Prague, Soap MacTavish wakes up in a city both alien and familiar. He stumbles across a pub and a conspiracy. Watered Elixir — Plague breaks out on a ship bound for Karnaca. As luck would have it, Makarov falls ill.

@samatedeansbroccoli

Scale of Fear — Verdansk saw a dragon, but Woods only saw a man in pain. Dragon!Adler x Woods. Shabbat Meal — Having taken up a job as a Death Row cook, Lazar talks to Sims about the past. Tili Tili Bom — After Solovetsky, Belikov ensures Bell gets the best care away from prying CIA eyes. Belikov/Bell if you squint. Together — When the odds are stacked against him, Édouard Conteau finds an unlikely ally to help him out. Ghost/Templar if you squint.

@samithemunchkin

I had a thousand bad times, so what’s another time to me? — Mitchell knew, deep down, that in his situation none of that mattered. He was about as unfit for duty as a toddler. Or, the beginning of fics following Mitchell and Gideon's life after the fall of Atlas

@satan-incarnate-666

Fall Into the Sky — A set of angsty Modern Warfare Two oneshots!! i can't believe how far we have come — A feel-good 141-shot (get it? im hilarious really) with lots of found family fun!! I'm Almost Me Again, She's Almost You — Mason/Woods post-Black Ops One angst ft. baby David and Mrs. Mason!! Hold On, My Dear, I'm Coming Home — Post-canon hurt/comfort for the Modern Warfare 2019 ensemble!! Heaven And Hell Were Words To Me — MW2 But They're A Bunch Of Immortals au!! Features Ghost/Roach/Soap; Currently on hiatus but I'm writing for it again!!

@tokillamockingbird427

Placeholder — A "What if..?" scenario set in the COD: Ghosts universe where Rorke, the antagonist of the cannon uni, and Elias, the protagonist's father, are swapped. Results in many interesting and tear jerking hijinks. (The "What if..?" being: "What if Elias was the one to fall instead of Rorke?").

@weavergrigori

Operation Greenlight, Redlight — Takes place after the duga ending, in a timeline where things can somehow get far worse than just nukes in europe. It's heavily zombies focused but has a strong link to the bo1 and bocw campaign !

[senfena]

Cold War: Remedy, Chapter 14

A/N: Uuuhh sorry for being gone so long. I'll try not to let it happen again. In other news, here's the chapter where I found out I'm not that great at writing combat ;w;

February 19, 1981

05:00 A.M.

Every sensation in your body kick-started as you jolted awake, screaming, shooting your torso forward to sit upright as you flailed your arms. Looking around, you found yourself in a small, sterile room, with a red door to your left, dressed in a medical gown. How the hell did you get here? And where was here? Okay, okay, panicking was going to do you no good. Your breathing slowed as you tried to calm yourself down, simply take everything in. Turning your view down your left arm, a needle was stuck inside it that led to an IV bag. You went to go pull it out when suddenly, the door swung open, and in rushed a blonde man, middle aged, with sunglasses and a brown leather jacket.

You instinctively pulled back in fear. "Wh…who are y-" "It's okay, Bell, it's just me. It's Adler." He interrupted as he slowly moved towards you with his hands up. Adler? Oh, of course. Adler, your old friend. You've known each other for years. Fought together. Bled together. Been through the hell of Vietnam together. "Adler?" You frettingly looked to him, staring into his deep blue eyes. "Yeah, kid, it's me. I'm here." He placed his hand on top of yours. You instantly felt soothed by his presence. 

"Wh..what happened? Where are we?" You questioned, never breaking eye contact. "You're in a hospital, Bell. That fall took you out of commission for a while, but you're alright now. If you can't remember much right now, that's okay, it'll all come back." You slowly nodded along. This was a lot to take in, but just knowing Adler was there for you kept you calm. "And you're back just in time too." He continued. "You remember Perseus? That soviet operative we were hunting in Da Nang? He's active again, and he's planning something big. He's gonna do a lot of damage, hurt a lot of innocent people, if we don't stop him." Perseus, that's right. The CIA's analysts consider him to be the single largest threat to the free world. That scared you a little. Were you really capable enough to stop him?

You hoped you weren't showing your fear on your face, but Adler must've picked up on it. Somehow your eye contact got even more intense as he leaned in ever so slightly closer to you. "We have a job to do." As he said that, every ounce of stress, fear, and anxiety was simply washed away, replaced only by a powerful sense of purpose. You and Adler, the ultimate team, ready to do your job to save the world better than anybody else ever could. "Let's do it." You beamed up at him as you slid your feet off of the bed, standing up with a slight stumble. That fall must've really hurt, it was still a bit painful to walk. "Here, lean on me." Adler offered as he swung your right arm over his shoulders. You both trudged out of the room, with a wide grin on your face, ready for anything.

___________

June 8, 1984

11:31 A.M.

"I don't get it. What the hell did they want at Yamantau, and why blow it up afterwards?" You quizzed Park, not shifting your eyes away from the satellite photos of the destroyed base pinned to the board. "We're not entirely sure what they wanted there, but the theory is that they intended to make it look like we destroyed it, prompting blame from the Soviet government." That got you to turn your head. "Did it work?" "As far as we can tell, no. If they never said anything about what happened in '81, or '68 for that matter, it's not likely they will this time." You smirked, glad that something was going your way after nearly two months of nothing.

"At least one of them has the decency to show us his face this time around." You muttered, inching closer to the board, eyes focused on a security camera picture of a caucasian man in heavy armor, with brown eyes and a full beard. "Do we have an identity?" You called back to Park. "Roman Gray, otherwise known as Knight." She began to debrief you. "Born in Ireland in '37, enlisted in the Irish army at 18, but in '63 he was dishonorably discharged. He was recruited by MI6 in '65, and four years ago, they also dismissed him. In both cases, due to rash, violent, and impulsive behavior." You paced in a circle as you took it all in. "Hm…and now it sounds like he's on some 'mighty revenge crusade.'"

As you mocked him, your view shifted to another photograph. A girl with a bodysuit and a half face mask, blonde hair shaved at the sides with the rest of it pulled back and tied into a braid. Something about her entranced you, as you inched up to fill your view with her photo, raking your eye over every detail, again and again. "What about her?" You quizzed Park. "Freya Helvig, known as Wraith. Born in Norway in 1952. In '78 she joined the NIS, only to leave them in '81 for Perseus." She disclosed, then paused for a moment. 

"What is it?" She took note of your intense interest, coming up to stand next to you. Good question, what was it about her? "I dunno…I guess...I guess she's kinda cute." You turned back to Park. Her only response was a cocked eyebrow, paired with a wild smirk. "I-I mean in a 'supervillain who wants to destroy the world' kind of way." Her grin only grew as you sputtered out your cheap justifications, sitting back down.

Shaking it off, you turned around to sit at the table, across from Park. "Something else that's confusing me." You uttered. "Verdansk is right at the base of the mountain, why put a giant red flag over your position like that? I mean, we know that Adler's there, but they don't know we know that." Park gazed off, losing herself to thought. "At least, I don't think they do." You tacked on quietly. It was quiet for a few moments longer. "Acceptable risk on their part?" She finally offered. If that was the case, that didn't imply good things for Adler or the rest of you.

"I just wish we had something concrete." You bemoaned as you puffed out an exaggerated exhale. "Ask and you shall receive!" Sims called over to both of you, striding into the main room alongside Hudson and Woods. "We got him." Woods announced triumphantly, grinning at you as they began taking files and documents from a case book, pinning them to the board. They found him? For real this time? All of your senses went to full alert as you stood back up.

As they finished organizing the board, Sims and Woods backed away from it as Hudson turned to face all of you. “As Woods said, we believe we have confirmation on Adler’s location.” Hudson started. “Stitch is holding him in the hospital in Verdansk. That's the good news. Trouble is, we don’t know where in the building exactly.” “I’m c-” Yes, Bell, I’m permitting you to go.” He shot down your interruption. “Not that I could stop you if I tried.” He muttered, prompting a smirky huff from you. 

“Park, Sims, you’re the chopper team, Woods and Bell are the ground team. Our plan is to fly the ground team over the building, fast rope in and infiltrate from the roof, sweep and clear the building until you find him. Chopper team holds position circling the building until the ground team gives the signal for pick up. From there you’ll be touching down at the West Berlin safehouse. We don’t know what condition he’ll be in, and in the worst case scenario bringing him there is better. Any questions?”

“When do we leave?” You immediately spat out. “Six hours. Anything else?” Silence. Hudson nodded. “Pack your bags. Bring our boy home.” You all split off to go get prepared. 

As you darted off to your room, your mind was filled with a single thought, looping again and again: "I will save you this time."

___________

June 10, 1984

9:57 P.M.

Having to endure the monotony of the helicopter ride was driving you up the walls. The only noise besides the drone of the engine and the blades slicing the air were the sounds of your M60 as you excessively checked it again and again. Click-thump as you slid the bolt back and forth, fwip as you flicked up the cover, running your finger over all the exposed bullets in the belt, clack as you knocked the cover back down. Click-thump, fwip, clack. Click-thump, fwip, clack. Click-thump, fwip,-"That trigger finger of yours a little itchy, Bell?" Sims quipped, pushing the microphone of his headset closer to his mouth. Clack. "Something like that." You muttered in response. Even with a microphone, you'd be surprised if he heard you. 

"Get ready to use it then!" Woods blurted. "We're approaching the hospital!" The chopper slowly drifted to a halt over the roof as Woods yanked open the sliding door. "Standby for greenlight." The pilot instructed, and a moment later the cabin interior light turned green. "Down the rope!" Woods shouted out, grabbing hold and sliding out of view. You weren't a beat behind him, sliding down as quickly as the laws of physics would allow you. The weight of your gun certainly didn't help your ankles in the landing, as you touched down with an audible wince. It didn't matter though. You were down, and Adler was here somewhere. 

"Bell, on me. We search room for room, floor by floor, until we find him." Woods commanded as you both hustled over to a locked door that led to the third floor. Kicking it in, you found only a few storage and maintenance items scattered about, and a stairway down to the lower levels, where they kept the patients. You both scampered down in a hurry, punting open the door to the third floor and being met with gunfire not a second later, pulling back before it could touch either of you. "Flash!" You called out, swiftly tossing in a stun grenade and waiting until BANG. The chamber momentarily became infinitely brighter, and as you popped out of cover and started cutting down hostiles, a distant ringing permeated your hearing.

Once all the hostiles had been put down and the ringing had stopped, you and Woods checked all the rooms on the floor. Nothing. And not just no Adler, there was nobody else at all. Sure, Perseus had some reach, but how'd they manage to take over an entire hospital for a city this size? Before you got too far lost in that thought train, you refocused. Adler.

You both made your way back to the staircase and down to the second floor. This time you threw in the flash as you kicked in the door. Good planning on your part, as there were about twice as many shooters on this floor. Still not a problem for you, Woods, and a hundred belt-fed full metal jacket rounds. Searching the floor, there was still no sign of Adler. He had to be on the first floor. Had to be. 

Rushing down the staircase to the ground floor, your heart rate began to rise, more from fear than anything else. Breaking down the last stairwell door, strangely there were less gunmen compared to the second floor. They must've been banking on you never getting this far down. Between putting down hostiles, you were frantically searching every room you came across, every corner of the building. Eventually the only section left was the operating rooms in the emergency center. It was down to the last enemy, he was wounded, out of ammo, and out of places to go. Woods grabbed him by the collar, snatching his rifle and tossing it aside. One sidearm bullet to the temple later, there was no one standing in your way. 

You both strided into one of the operating rooms in the next chamber. Quickly scanning the room for any more enemies, you found none, but there was one person laying on the operating table. You halted for a second. You almost didn't want to believe it. But stepping closer and looking more carefully at his face, relief flooded over you more strongly by the second. You couldn't help the gigantic smile that you broke into.

"Adler, wake up! We're here for you!" Woods called out to him, trying to shake him out of his exhaustion. "Gah…Woods…?" Adler hazily muttered. "That's right. Come on, up you come." Woods tossed Adler's right arm over his shoulder and brought him to his feet. Filled with adrenaline, you took the lead to escort you all back the way you came. "We gotta get back up. Who knows how much longer we have before they send in reinforcements." You spoke to Woods without looking back at him, but you immediately turned your head back once you heard Adler cry out in pain, seeing him collapse to the floor and taking Woods down with him.

You rushed over and put Adler's left arm over you, simultaneously lifting him back up, continuing to trudge along together. "W-wh…Bell?" It was the first time you'd ever heard him confused. "Yeah, you asshole, it's me. I'm here."

Moving as fast as you could to the helipad, Park and Sims rushed out to help lighten the load. Sims looked ecstatic, though you couldn't say the same for Park. If anything, she looked more relieved upon seeing that you were safe. As you all lifted him into the helicopter, the irony wasn't lost on you that now he was the one being heaved into a chopper for emergency medical attention. You pulled the door shut as you took off, just thankful that your days of searching were over. But now came the big question: What next?

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

FICMAS - DAY 10 - MISTLETOE PRANKING

Title: Mission: Mistletoe.

Synopsis: You and Kyle prank the Task Force with a mistletoe and a camera.

Warnings: I'd say none, though this has clear Ghoap shipping. This is just pure shenanigans and fluff and fun.

Simon and Johnny were the *easiest* targets. They sit beside eachother with their hands all intertwined, sometimes not even doing anything together. So Kyle recorded, and you had the mistletoe.

Simon was in a black mask that has his classic skull bottom half on it, then a black hoodie and some *incredibly* dirty and old jeans. He has an arm wrapped around Johnny, who's in a festive little turtleneck, and smart capries.

You nodded to Kyle, he turns on the camera. You start to hum out "Holly Jolly Christmas"--specifically the part that goes "oh, ho, the mistletoe, hung where you can see,"--while holding it over Johnny and Simon.

Simon's head perks up first and he sees the mistletoe. The Lieutenant, a sniper who has murdered more men than you can count, burns up, his ears turning a holly jolly red.

Johnny merely smirks, "L.T., you know the tradition," and grabs Simon by the collar, yoinking the mask down and kissing his lips. It's a quick peck and Kyle is snickering, planning on getting Price later.

Simon pulls back quickly and pulls that stupid mask back up, looking away in silence. He never *was* one for ouvert public displays of affection.

Price is harder to get, you have to catch him off guard--which he nearly ever is--and you need someone for him to kiss. Naturally, you offer yourself up, having Johnny hang the mistletoe up, Kyle record, and you be the lovely bait.

Johnny nods to Kyle, which you give a nearly unnoticeable nod to, before tapping your Captain's shoulder.

"Sorry, Cap', everyone gets mistletoed," you say, pointing up at the mistletoe above yourself and him.

"Ye fockin' cunt," he grumbles, leaning in and chastely kissing your cheek. He pulls back and huffs out, going back to reading whatever files he was reviewing.

But what you didn't expect was Simon, Johnny, *and* Price to all get in on it.

They, while you're sitting with Kyle, you're playing on your phone and he's reading a book, your legs over his lap, Simon calls Johnny, and Price in. Simon's a damn good sniper, so he was the one to prop himself up high with a phone to record, Johnny has the mistletoe, and Price? He's the distraction.

Johnny rolls in, crawling up a little so he isn't noticeable. Then, Price comes in, walking across the room.

"Merry Christmas," he says, Simon recording as Johnny taps your shoulder and then Kyle's, waving the mistletoe around.

Finally, you think to yourself, leaning in and kissing Kyle on the lips. He kisses right back, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

What Kyle knew? He was unabashedly in love with you. What he didn't? That you were fawning over him.

Kyle pulls back with a slight smirk, looking back down at his book. You grin bashfully, looking back down at your phone. Simon climbs off the bookshelf he propped himself up on, turning the video off, and Johnny puts the mistletoe away.

You, though? You lay your head on Kyle's shoulder, and he wraps his arm around your waist.

"Merry Christmas," he mumbles out to you, laying his head on top of yours.

"Merry Christmas," you respond snuggling up to his side.

[whisperingexecutioner]

''Sweater Weather'' | A Stitch x Park Oneshot (BOCW)

____________________________________________________

Summary:

After both being tasked with the examination of a hidden test site in Poland claimed to house a strange machine known as the “particle accelerator”, two unlikely companions cross paths.

Notes:   

Fandom: Black Ops Cold War, Call of Duty Setting: Die Maschine (location) Pairing: Vikhor “Stitch” Kuzmin x Helen Park Theme: Warsaw x NATO (valentine week) Prompt: Sheltering together / winter snowstorms Attire: ‘’Redacted’’ (Stitch), ‘’Coventry’’ (Park)

Inspiration: An eventful day in Poland between two operators from opposing sides. . .

Rating: T - Mostly sfw

____________________________________________________

Morasko, Poland November 13, 1983 ''Die Maschine''

He wasn't sure exactly how long she had been here -this lone MI6 agent, but, she already looked half frozen. Her shoulder-length jet black hair hung close to her pale cheeks and she kept her long jacket firmly tucked around her huddled form. He sighed. This was supposed to be a simple, one-day one-man reconnaissance mission, any extra living persons on site had not been accounted for...                                                                                     

Cautiously, he approached the piece of downed plane -a large cylindrical section of the cabin- that she was currently taking refuge from the weather in, and eyed her sleeping form. 'Steady breathing, occasional flinch', good Vikhor thought to himself. At least she was still alive, and didn't appear to be suffering from frostbite or any other ill effects of the current winter environment.

'She must simply be cold then. Most likely exhausted and possibly hungry,' he thought. She was definitely MI6; that much he could tell. Upon further inspection, he noticed a light AR style rifle propped close to her side opposite him, and thought it wise to wake her before proceeding any closer. Clearing his throat, he spoke lowly as to not spook her.

''Hello, I am unsure of what you are doing here but-'' a sharp gasp cut him off. This woman as it would seem, was a heavy sleeper who didn't take kindly to being awoken so suddenly out of the blue -especially not by a complete stranger. ''My apologies,'' he began, ''and do try not to be alarmed. I am not here to hurt you. I was sent here and tasked with small...''examination'' assignment, that is all.'' His heavy Russian accent rolled off his tongue like honey, and his calm demeanor seemed to put her back at ease - even if only somewhat. To further convey the harmlessness in his words, Vikhor loosened his grip on his own rifle, a custom jet-black Krig 6, in his arms before simply lowering it by his side.

Such a weapon seemed to suit him well; it gave him an appearance not unlike a child holding their favorite toy. She admittedly felt less tense after the small gesture, though still well on her guard and wary in the presence of the stranger. The large man -a soldier by the looks of it- however, seemed to harbor no ill-will and made no attempt at anything shady but rather simply stayed crouched, casting a glance over the general vicinity.

Gradually her nerves were beginning to settle; heartbeat slowing to a normal pace after being startled. And despite his rough looks, Park could not deny how glad she was that she would no longer be alone here. After all, with all radio signals currently being down, Vikhor was the only human company she had for the time being... A soft sigh escaped her, before a brief shiver.

''I suppose you're here on official business then,'' she stated, still unsure of the fellow. He lowered his head, but kept his cerulean gaze fixed on her.

''I suppose you could say that is truth.'' there was a lighter tone to his voice this time around, and Helen was finding that blue eye to be all the more piercing. Chancing the fact that he might be here for the same reason as her, she penned a decidedly bold question.

''Projekt Endstation,'' clearing her throat, she began ''do you know anything about it?'' Vikhor took a moment to ponder his response well before replying.

''Da, there is small store of information  on it on file back in Moscow but, what we know to be absolute truth is still very limited. There are..many strange rumors. That is why I am here today. And what of you?''

''Much the same really; I'm working a small part in an ongoing private investigation of Endstation, and the alleged experiments that took place there. Here.'' she answered shivering, and slightly adjusted her coat. Under his mask, Vikhor frowned. He stood with a small heave and looked around, brows furrowed. This caused Helen to jar a tiny bit.

''Is something the matter?'' Her British accent cut through the frigid air like a hot knife through butter, and to say that he found it appealing would be a vast understatement. After studying the surroundings for a few moments, his eyes fell on what he was looking for. Something he could use.

''Stay put - I will return shortly'' he spoke with such a certainty, voice heavily overladen with that lovely accent of his, and stalked off to an unseen area around the plane compartment.

One minute. 

Then five minutes. 

Counting the seconds was overtaxing Helen's brain in the current conditions and she almost feared that her companion wasn't coming back. Around a full ten minutes later, she caught the sound of footsteps crunching against snow on the other end of the broken cabin segment. Sparing a glance, she noticed the large Russian firmly tying down a tattered, white sheet that sealed over the entire entrance - effectively blocking off all wind from that direction. Helen mentally applauded him for his efforts. Whereas this most certainly helped, it did nothing to stop the chill though. 

Looking over his shoulder, Vikhor caught a brief smile from Helen before shivers overtook her body as she tried -and failed- to warm herself, arms hugged at her sides. As he had already tried radioing his own group while retrieving the cloth and confirmed that radio signals were either down currently, or not getting through due to weather, leaving early didn't appear to be an option. The look in her eyes was...pitiful. She looked like a person that was wholly unused to the freezing temperatures that Poland had to offer.

Finishing up with the makeshift wall, he shuffled over to her, and placed the back of an ungloved hand on her forehead. 'Too cold,' he muttered to himself in his mind 'she is losing too much body heat, much too quickly'. Placing his rifle a few inches to his left, he sit down beside her, laying back against the curved wall. Without a second thought, Vikhor -much to her distress- wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close to his side.

''WAIT, just what are you-'' she began, very clearly alarmed, but he cut her off before she could finish.

''Shhh..there is no cause for concern. This will warm you quicker; just rest for now.'' his voice was calm and reassuring, as was the hand currently stroking over her clothed arm.

A meek ''Alright...'' was all Park could muster. A good few minutes later and the pleasant warmth of Vikhor's body heat was beginning to flood through her -thawing the ice in her veins. She was still shaking a little but not as badly. A few seconds more, and Helen was huddling closer; laying an arm over him and placing her head against his broad chest. It took her only a brief few moments to slip under.

Once Helen had fallen asleep, Vikhor glimpsed down at her curiously. It had been many a year since he had held someone in his arms, and until now, he'd all but forgotten how fond he was of the small, simple touches. Nothing could ever replace the feeling of having someone you love so close. Vikhor mentally kicked himself. Sure it might feel nice but, this was just some random woman (and an MI6 agent to boot), not a long lost lover from a romance passed. He sighed. How many years had it been? Too many to recount. And yet...he still missed her. 

Bell.

Love is unconditional but war does not discriminate. A bullet doesn't distinguish between friend or foe. Bombs care not if you have a loved one or family waiting at home. ‘Or had’ in his case, he would think. To many she had been an asset, this ''Bell'' as the agency had come to call her; nothing more than a pawn on the board. But to Vikhor, she was something else - something special. She had been his everything. Someone he held close to his heart, which the world had cruelly torn away from him forever. The fact that she had narrowly escaped a bullet to the head from Adler years prior, only to be killed in a coordinated airstrike was cruelty in itself. 

He remembers that day all too vividly: he had been working a grueling three-week operation elsewhere, and came home to utter chaos. It was in the aftermath, among the flames and rubble that he found her. Bell. His beloved. Held half crushed under the beam of a collapsed building. Broken. Dying. Barely clinging to life. By the time she had been rushed to the hospital, it was already too late. Vikhor was left in shambles. Night after sleepless night, he would lay in bed thinking only of her, staring sorrowfully at the empty space beside him. It took years for him to once more piece his life back together, knowing that it would never again be whole.

Presently, Helen stirred, who was looking much better after a good hour of dozing. For reasons unbeknownst to him -or maybe ones he tried to deny- this felt...good. At this point, he'd allowed her to snuggle quite closely, leaving her to rest peacefully all cozy and warm in his embrace, until now...

She blinked herself awake, and lazily leaned up part way. Vikhor was staring straight into her eyes, making her feel somewhat self conscious. There's that beautiful icy blue gaze again... It was only then that she seemed to take notice.

''You're blind in your left eye.'' she stated all too bluntly, leaning up more to study his expression. It was certainly a strange one; he appeared hazy, somewhat distant, but for only a moment before snapping back to the present.

''What gave me away?'' his voice held such depth as he spoke, proceeding to brush a stray hair from her cheek and tuck it behind her ear.

''I'm sorry...I-'' her poor topic of choice left her feeling chiefly embarrassed to have even pointed it out; that kind of detail should have been obvious from the start. Especially given the fact that the eye’s blindness seemed to stem from a nasty scar trailing down nearly the entire left side of his face. 

''It is most peculiar for woman of British intelligence to be working alone, do you not think?'' he smiled, almost cheekily.

Wait...when had he removed his mask?! Helen's eyes were caught up in thoroughly taking in all his facial features. Everything from his eye scar, to his scruffy cheeks, down to his lightly stubbled chin, and finally to his lips. Vikhor tightened a muscular arm around her side tugging her up closer, the scenario becoming all too much for Helen's brain to fully process and leaving her in a bit of a daze. This only served to further his desire, and before she knew it, his soft lips were on hers. Unable to help himself, he kissed her. The cloth barrier wall flapped wildly in the wind, as the landscape outside was engulfed in a heavy snowstorm. 

Vikhor slipped a hand behind her head, caressing her hair fondly. Helen tilted her head to the side, allowing him to capture another kiss at a completely new angle. He made a soft humming noise and closed his eyes. Using his distraction to her advantage, Helen raised to plant herself above him. That little move alone set his pulse racing; made his blood boil.

Slowly letting her restraint die, Helen caught him by the chin and they both began a string of frenzied, impassioned kisses. As their situation became all the more heated, Vikhor found himself thinking that this little encounter might just lead to a change in his life. One that could once again find him satisfied and happy in a lovers soft embrace. A wry small crept across his face as he met her gaze.

''This is most undignified behavior coming from a British-'' Vikhor began, but his words were cut short by Helen's lips on his. She stopped his speech dead in its tracks with another deep, passionate, kiss. When she pulled away, he was left breathless.

''A.. most beautiful British woman,'' Vikhor stated boldly to her face, in a voice deepened by the desire burning through him. Then a sudden realization hit Park.

''Forgot to mention,'' Helen managed between breaths, ''comms are currently down. Otherwise, I would have already contacted my team. No help will be coming for hours - we are on our own here.'' She tapped her earpiece for extra effect.

''This does not sound like such bad thing to me'', Vikhor's voice was deep, as he stared at her with a certain new-found fondness. He rubbed a thumb over her cheek affectionately, brushing it across her inviting lips as she purred out a response, before capturing his once more.

''You know'', he breathed out with shudder, ''you are not so bad for agency operative.'' The sound of his voice caught Park off guard, who had momentarily ceased all movement.

''Not so bad yourself really,'' Helen's British accent once again hit him square in the chest; rang out in his ears like a pleasant melody, ''Though you did have me a little concerned at the first..''. 

''Pfft...what are you talking about? Wouldn't hurt a fly..'' Vikhor flashed her an amused -and almost- smug look. His playful antics also seemed to amuse Park, who leaned up and grasped at his broad shoulders.

''Come here люблю,'' the implications behind his tone currently, aided by his deep Slavic accent, gave her butterflies; made her smile. Helen studied Vikhor, his body language doing very well at conveying just how long it had been since he's been this affectionate with someone. Shifting his position to set a bit further up, Vikhor promptly hoisted Park against his chest; both hugging tightly as they shared a few more heated kisses. From the moment he felt legs squeeze around either side of his waist, he knew it was going to be an entertaining evening. Briefly moving his gaze to his left, he noticed a small, worn passenger's mattress he had spotted earlier, and he now intended to make full use of it. 

Ah yes, this would indeed be a day he would remember forever.

~ ~ ~ Some time later ~ ~ ~

After a good amount of fulfilling, intimate time together, they both found themselves falling into a blissful sleep. Vikhor, who now lay atop Helen's small form, and Park who was happily pinned beneath his warm body. Both wrapped in each others arms and snuggled for warmth on that tiny mattress. The small hand that ran along his muscular chest and side amused Vikhor. As it would seem, Helen had indeed taken a bit of a liking to him. She nuzzled his neck and whispered sweet nothings into into his ear. He gave a soft chuckle, enjoying the heat provided by bare skin against skin.

''Little woman is now satisfied then, eh? Good to know, not that there was ever doubt.'' Vikhor prided himself in many fields, not all of which were limited to his military expertise or even the battlefield for that matter...

The only response he got from Helen was a half roll of her eyes and a playful jab to the shoulder.  

''Rest now прекрасный, we will leave out soon enough.'' Vikhor's sleep-laden words were barely above a mumble, and at this point Park's eyelids were already too heavy to keep open. Not long after, both were out like a light for the next two hours.

Helen, who awoke with quite a start, caused Vikhor to stir. A heavy groan left his body as he wiped the sleep from his eyes, and blinked himself awake. And just like that, there it was, all about them - like a dream. The fabled ''Dark Aether''.

''My word..'' Park gasped, staring out over their now wondrously-colored surroundings, and then towards the clouded sky fractured by bolts of wild lightning. Then there was the curious fauna...

''Is that...jellyfish?'' Vikhor found it hard to grasp the sights that now lay before him. The environment had taken on a rich, vibrant purple/amethyst shade, there were large crystals of the same hues sprouting randomly from the ground, and then of course, there was the jellyfish. Or at least, they looked like jellyfish. Small swarms of four and five seemed to just ''float'' through the open air as if it were meant to look natural. In all, the sight left them both astonished and at a loss for words.

''So the Aether does exist after all'' Vikhor proclaimed in awe. 

''It's beautiful,'' Park couldn't seem to stop herself admiring the newfound beauty. ''But, if all the information is correct then, we'd do well to stay hidden and keep our guard up.''

''Agreed, but likewise, if information is true then we may have need to move.''

''That is a possibility..'' Helen's voice trailed off. From the underlying tone of excitement in his voice, she could already tell that Vikhor wanted to take a closer look at things - whether it was a wise decision or not. With that, both raised hastily to get re-dressed, and examine their weapons, then cautiously take a better look outside. Nearing the cabin exit, they kept stooped low as they swept their eyes over their current location.

Environment wise -with the exception of the crystals, a few oddly glowing patches of grass, and the ''jellyfish''- everything more or less seemed the same. The largest change was in the varying shades of deep purple that overlayed everything and the fact that there seemed to be less snow.  

''Is it..warmer?'' Park whispered.

''Seems to be,'' Vikhor responded in regards to her question, as he checked his pocket gauge. ''The temperature appears to be setting at a steady 65 degrees Fahrenheit. Possibly even nearing 70.''

''Certainly more tolerable now,'' Park added.

Vikhor smirked, not that Park would notice with his mask back on now. He could care less to go swimming in below freezing weather. Needless to say, he didn't mind the previous cold one bit. He enjoyed it.

''So...how do you suppose we leave?'' Park began again. 

''If we're to go based on previous reports, there should be...portal here. Somewhere...'' After a statement like that, Vikhor was simply waiting for some sort of verbal jest from Helen - though it never came. Instead, it would appear as though she had also read similar information before.

''You mean, the ‘anomaly’? Surely you're not suggesting we go through it..'' Park proclaimed.

''We may not have to, but we should not rule out as option. Especially not with everything that is said to lurk here.'' Vikhor mused.

Brushing any extra idle chatter aside, they carefully made their way outside. Guns drawn, and keeping a careful eye out for each-other, they set about making a sweep of the place.

After having conducted a more or less thorough examination of the immediate site, they moved to the abandoned building. It was a sprawling, crumbling mass of concrete with graffiti plastered across every wall and flat surface. Making their way into the second story entrance, Vikhor noted a few heavily decomposed bodies, but nothing else of significant importance. Half an hour later, their exploration had come to a halt with a few startling finds - all pointing towards the sinister truth behind ''Projekt Endstation''.

''Think it is safe to say,'' Vikhor concluded ''we both have a lot of paperwork to do. Also, we should head back to shelter for time being; something is off here..''

''Most definitely; agreed,'' Park spoke steadily, though clearly on edge given their most recent discoveries. Not to mention, during the last few minutes of the search, strange noises began emanating from somewhere deep underground - where they both suspected the facilities' lab to be, as well as the actual particle accelerator itself. If accessible, it could prove to be a potential hotspot for data and vital evidence. In any case, now was not the time for taking that kind of risk; not when they had obtained so much crucial, on-site information. Not that either of them wished to meet the inhabitants of this place anyway...especially not after having read many reports of the beast's brutality. That and given that some were even said to be radioactive...

The trip back to the plane went by quick enough, without issue -other than Park nearly mowing Vikhor over when a piece of loose rubble dislodged from the roof behind her, and clattered noisily to the floor.

''Heh, sorry about that..'' Helen gave him a small nervous laugh, to which he simply stared.

''If you ever do that again..'' As he was way too caught up in mulling over their findings here, to say that she had spooked him would be a bit of an understatement. Not the type of thing that happens very often (Vikhor does not spook easily) but, his heart was now practically beating out of his chest. Unable to stop himself, he laughed. A quiet but throaty chuckle.

''Perhaps it is this place..I for one, am eager to leave.'' Vikhor gave a nod of his head, then proceeded on the short trek.

''One small thing. Hopefully you won't think it rude of me to ask now but, I don't even know your name,'' Park expressed inquisitively, before continuing politely with an outstretched hand ''Helen Park, but all my friends call me Helen.'' The small, almost trivial request caught Vikhor off guard. Her honest and subtle demeanor prompted a quick response from him. 

''Vikhor. Vikhor Kuzmin.'' his voice was calm and he pronounced each word in a fluent, almost practiced manner, ''though at workplace, around my... ''companions'', I often simply go by Stitch.'' 

''Vikhor...now there's a name I don't think I've ever heard used before; how very interesting.'' She smiled as they shook hands, and further relished the fact that he had such a firm grasp. Motioning forward, Vikhor prompted Helen to join him back in the cabin shelter, however, something nearby caught her eyes. 

Garnering his attention with a clear of her throat, Park spoke. ''I don't suppose that would be one of those 'anomalies', would it?'' She then gestured to an unusual glowing object, that seemed to hover only a few feet off the ground, to the right of the crash site. Stepping out of cover, Vikhor eyed the unusually luminous sphere-like object suspiciously, before advancing towards it with Helen. After an all too cautious approach, care gave way to curiosity.

''It is..warm?'' Vikhor precariously ran a hand over and through the object, much too Helen's protest. He was after all, a scientist before a soldier. Curiosity was in his nature. ''I think..this might be a-'' Without warning, an abrupt animalistic call sounded off in the not-so-distant distance, but just out of sight.

''What was that?'' Park whisper shouted, turning to face the direction of the nerve-jarring noise.

''I am not sure, but we probably should not stick around to find out,'' Vikhor's words were swift, quiet.

''What do you propose we do?'' at this point, Park was clearly becoming a little anxious, ''And more precisely, how do we leave?''

Following careful consideration and weighing possible outcomes, Vikhor spoke.

''Come quickly, before we are noticed. It is merely a hunch but I wish to try something. Step into the light.'' he tilted his head towards the glowing purple orb next to them.

''Oh you can't be serious,'' Park started, ''we don't even know that it works, let alone where it might go.'' The evident alarm in her voice only heightened when he pulled her tightly into his arms, and walked into the warm glow. Together, they disappeared - and only seconds before a pack of twenty or so plague hounds scampered by.

Five seconds passed.

Then ten.

It was a very dizzying experience to say the least; made them both feel as though they were walking on clouds - though they very well weren't currently ''walking'' at all. Vikhor was the first to open his eyes. The Dark Aether as it would seem, as well as the pleasant warmth that had previously surrounded them, had completely vanished. Once more were they both stranded in the bitter cold at the former crash site.

''Then this is..the normal world again?'' Park questioned hesitantly, ''and, you mean to tell me that, the orb - it actually was a teleporter after all?'' There was a resounding, relieved sigh from Vikhor. 

''It would appear as though time really does work differently in between here and the other dimension. Look how late it has gotten.'' He pointed to the orange sun setting low on the crimson horizon. Brilliant streaks of tangerine and violet filled the soon-to-be twilight sky. Turning to face Helen, Vikhor couldn't help but admire how beautifully the sky reflected in her eyes as she regarded the fading colors of the sunset with relief and all due fascination. 

Moving to stand directly behind her, Vikhor wrapped his arms around her waist and planted his chin over her shoulder. Once again, he had removed his mask; each exhale a small puff of steam in the freezing air. The little detail didn't get past Helen, who was now both comfortable and content in his company; and also very happy to have a warm body to huddle against.

''We should be safe for now,'' Vikhor nuzzled his warm cheek to hers, watching the last rays of dusk fade. A tired hum left him, and he momentarily rested his eyes.

''Long day?'' Park questioned with a fond smile.

''Long night more like.'' He muttered, not bothering to open his eyes. ''This was supposed to be a sort of ‘break’ for me. Simple examination assignment they said. Guess they really didn't take the information seriously...'' He yawned.

''And here I thought you Russians were all the same - working with endless energy, running on nothing but women and vodka.''

''Is this...joke?'' Vikhor raised a sleepy eyebrow, ''eh well, I suppose it is true enough - at least where the vodka is concerned.'' Park laughed.

Turning in his arms, she once more planted her lips on his as the night air began to grow cool around them. He held her tighter and she leaned into his tough, enjoying the fact that he towered over her.  

''Helen was it,'' Vikhor placed his forehead against hers looking her directly in the eyes, ''how would you feel about coming to work in Moscow?'' There was something akin to yearning in his tone. Park was left dumbfounded and at a bit of a loss for words.

''It is beautiful city, and I am more than willing to make special accommodations for you,'' a stark loneliness filled Vikhor's good eye as Park met his gaze.

''I'm...this is...rather abrupt. I suppose we could..perhaps better talk this out over dinner?'' at her mention of food, Vikhor felt his stomach growl. Breakfast had been hours ago.

''Perhaps; sounds like we have deal. Make it a date.'' another deep, hearty, chuckle left him at the thought. Him? A date? The guys would never let him live this one down.

''I think I like the sound of that,'' Park's actual acceptance of his little proposal both shocked and invigorated him. He already had some local shops and places that he was keen on showing her.  

Just as stars were beginning to dot the night sky, the dull beating of heavy metal blades could be heard approaching in the distance. At the same time, Vikhor's receiver switched on with a familiar voice blaring through his earpiece. Naga's growly accent easily cut through any static in the line.

''Hey buddy, still alive down there? Sorry we are late, had a little incident to take care of earlier today, but it's all good now - no small thanks to yours truly.''

Several minutes later, Vikhor's strike team would be on site, to pick the both of them up. He could already picture the sarcastic smile on the young warlords face when he heard the full details of today's little ''escapade'' with Helen. A smug grin crossed his face. Maybe there were some details which he would keep only to himself.

Meanwhile, Park had all but buried her face against him, standing closely snuggled into his hoodie for what warmth he provided. She didn't pull away until the deafening sound of a helicopter's rotary wings could be heard above them, blowing the snow from the ground all around their feet.

Under Naga's scrutinizing (and somewhat amused) stare, Vikhor gave a brief explanation of why they had an extra passenger, and then allowed Helen the choice of which airport they would drop her off at. To his surprise, she opted to stay with him for now, even agreed to stay in his personal quarters -which earned a toothy grin from Naga.

If plans went accordingly, she would be flying out through her preferred airport in Moscow in around a week to report her findings, then returning for a ''vacation'' of sorts. She would go on to explain ''most'' of details of her little detour to Weaver at a much later date, offering him many a valid excuse when needed for the time being. There would be a lot she left omitted from her official report...

Before she closed her eyes, Helen caught Vikhor leaning back in his seat, eyelids slowly falling shut to catch some much needed sleep. Shortly afterward, she was copying him herself. Truth be told, they were simply happy to be leaving. As of today, they could put this place behind them. Bid Endstation goodbye forever - or at least, for now.

Author's Note: Welp there you have it, as long promised. Hopefully some of you guys were able to enjoy it. I’m admittedly a little rusty atm, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve wrote anything quite so large...and for the public eye X3 Might possibly post a better polished / expanded version of this eventually (no worries, this one will be staying on here as is). As for the deats, not everything here is correct concerning the Dark Aether but it still kinda works out, right? lol

Heheh.. Big bad bossman had a softy moment.  

Translations: hopefully they’re accurate X3 люблю (lyubov') - love прекрасный (prekrasnyy) - beautiful